It's been over a year since I posted on this blog. What?
I guess I've been a little busy. I graduated from college in January and moved back home with my parents. I was jobless for a few months before starting to work parttime at The Shoe Department... a move that has been, well, interesting.
I assistant choreographed and directed MAHS' spring musical, Sugar, and I'm in the process of playing Velma in West Side Story at Little Theatre of Wilkes Barre.
I'm nowhere near where I thought I would be. But I'm not as far away as I could be either. I have a job interview for one of my dream jobs, and I am working as hard as I can in as many different ways as possible to be the best version of me that I could possibly be.
I'm 23 years old, and it's been nine years since I started this blog my freshman year of high school. High school freshman Jade was a lot... she's almost a completely different person from who I am now, and that's absolutely a good thing. In the nine years since I started this blog, I went through some completely ridiculous and obsessive crushes on people that I don't even know anymore, I dated my high school sweetheart for 3 years, had my heart broken, went to college, and dealt with more drama than anybody has a right to.
I got through it all. With tears, with screaming, with pathetic poetry, with help from others... and I'm here. Different. New. Scared of the future but excited at the same time, having made the most peace with my past that I've ever been able to make.
It's time to say good-bye to this particular blog. It's entirely possible that I'll re-start it someday years in the future, but I need to put space between 14-year-old me and 23-year-old me and again, between 23-year-old me and the me of the future.
I'll be blogging over on Tumblr for awhile. I won't shut this time; maybe someday I'll come back. But for now, so long, farewell.
It's been good.
I'll just keep swimming down, down, down. There's no point in trying to reach dry ground, I'm drowned.
Saturday, August 29, 2015
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Jade(d)
Jaded: adj. Dulled or satiated by overindulgence.
I've always hated the word "jaded." I hate that it is such a negative thing and has my name in it; that's always bothered me. I didn't want my name to be associated with anything negative like that. But tonight, I think it's the most fitting word I can come up with.
When you go off to college, you know things will change. You'll lose or gain weight perhaps, you'll grow in knowledge and experience. You'll learn to be more independent, to do things like laundry, dishes, and how exactly to go about unclogging a nasty tub drain and how to clean out the refrigerator without triggering your gag reflex (still working on that one). But not every change is necessarily a good one.
I sort of had that realization tonight. As two of my friends and I were heading home from a callback prep session, we stopped at a neighborhood McDonald's. One of the girls was hesitant to go in because there were a number of semi-swarthy characters hanging around and it was 11 o'clock at night, but I reassured her that I go in there all the time and it's fine. As we walk inside, I hear a man's voice to my left. "Ma'am? Excuse me, Ma'am?" I kept walking, ignoring him as I usually do. But one of the girls stopped to speak to him. My automatic thought was to leap into protective momma mode and make sure she was okay, but as I was starting to turn around to make sure, I heard him ask, "Could you buy me a meal?" She agreed and I turned back around and tried to focus on the menu as I realized that he tried to ask me first... and I walked right past him. On purpose.
Damn.
When I first came to college, one of the things that I had to get used to was the presence of homeless people and beggars here in the big city. Coming from small-town America, that was never something that I had to deal with; not everyone's situations were perfect, but you didn't almost trip over people lying in the street just hoping for a few coins. In the city, that's a much bigger issue, and at first, it tore me to pieces to see them lying there or sitting there. While I still don't like it, and my heart twinges a bit every time I walk past them, it's become easier and easier to walk past, just like every other city person. As long as you don't make eye contact it's fine, right?
Wrong.
As we left, a second homeless man came up and asked if my friend could buy him a meal, too. She had to say no, that she didn't have any more money. I could have gotten him something, but again, I didn't say anything. As we got into the car, my other friend said, "I was worried that was going to happen. I saw him watching you, and knew he was going to ask, too. It's so sad... but one person can't feed them all. We can't end world hunger just like that." And I thought to myself, Arwen, what are you doing??? I don't remember the last time I bought a meal for someone who needed it. I spent a ton of time complaining about how I don't have a car and sometimes I need my parents' help with rent, and I don't feel like eating the food that's in the freezer or I don't feel like cooking.
Wow.
Jaded.
I've spent so much time just passing people by in the streets that it doesn't faze me anymore, not like it used to, anyway. I've become so accustomed to just ducking my head and walking past... typically drinking my $5 Starbucks drink, in my high heels and jewelry... cross around my neck, proclaiming the opposite of my actions. Some Christian I am, not even stopping to buy a bagel at Einstein Bros for someone who needs it. Two bucks, five minutes out of my day. And yet I don't spare even that for someone else.
If every time I was tempted to get Starbucks I bought a homeless man or woman a meal instead... think how many mouths I could feed, just me. It's not that I don't have the money. Sometimes, even when I don't have money, I still manage to get a sugar-laden treat when someone else is starving to death. As I sit here typing this, I'm drinking my soda, typing on my Macbook, in my nice little one-bedroom apartment. Every night when I walk home, I pass a woman sleeping on the bench at the bus stop. When I leave in the morning, she'll be gone for the day, but I guarantee you she'll be back on that bench to sleep tomorrow night again.
Where are your priorities, Arwen? Why can you buy Starbucks but not buy a man a meal? Why is it so easy for you to walk past the woman on the bench and not even think to get her a blanket or something to keep her warm? What's happened to you?
I've become jaded. And it's a problem.
Thank you, girls, for revealing this to me. You may not have realized it, but thank you. It's time to do some more changing... in the right direction this time.
I've always hated the word "jaded." I hate that it is such a negative thing and has my name in it; that's always bothered me. I didn't want my name to be associated with anything negative like that. But tonight, I think it's the most fitting word I can come up with.
When you go off to college, you know things will change. You'll lose or gain weight perhaps, you'll grow in knowledge and experience. You'll learn to be more independent, to do things like laundry, dishes, and how exactly to go about unclogging a nasty tub drain and how to clean out the refrigerator without triggering your gag reflex (still working on that one). But not every change is necessarily a good one.
I sort of had that realization tonight. As two of my friends and I were heading home from a callback prep session, we stopped at a neighborhood McDonald's. One of the girls was hesitant to go in because there were a number of semi-swarthy characters hanging around and it was 11 o'clock at night, but I reassured her that I go in there all the time and it's fine. As we walk inside, I hear a man's voice to my left. "Ma'am? Excuse me, Ma'am?" I kept walking, ignoring him as I usually do. But one of the girls stopped to speak to him. My automatic thought was to leap into protective momma mode and make sure she was okay, but as I was starting to turn around to make sure, I heard him ask, "Could you buy me a meal?" She agreed and I turned back around and tried to focus on the menu as I realized that he tried to ask me first... and I walked right past him. On purpose.
Damn.
When I first came to college, one of the things that I had to get used to was the presence of homeless people and beggars here in the big city. Coming from small-town America, that was never something that I had to deal with; not everyone's situations were perfect, but you didn't almost trip over people lying in the street just hoping for a few coins. In the city, that's a much bigger issue, and at first, it tore me to pieces to see them lying there or sitting there. While I still don't like it, and my heart twinges a bit every time I walk past them, it's become easier and easier to walk past, just like every other city person. As long as you don't make eye contact it's fine, right?
Wrong.
As we left, a second homeless man came up and asked if my friend could buy him a meal, too. She had to say no, that she didn't have any more money. I could have gotten him something, but again, I didn't say anything. As we got into the car, my other friend said, "I was worried that was going to happen. I saw him watching you, and knew he was going to ask, too. It's so sad... but one person can't feed them all. We can't end world hunger just like that." And I thought to myself, Arwen, what are you doing??? I don't remember the last time I bought a meal for someone who needed it. I spent a ton of time complaining about how I don't have a car and sometimes I need my parents' help with rent, and I don't feel like eating the food that's in the freezer or I don't feel like cooking.
Wow.
Jaded.
I've spent so much time just passing people by in the streets that it doesn't faze me anymore, not like it used to, anyway. I've become so accustomed to just ducking my head and walking past... typically drinking my $5 Starbucks drink, in my high heels and jewelry... cross around my neck, proclaiming the opposite of my actions. Some Christian I am, not even stopping to buy a bagel at Einstein Bros for someone who needs it. Two bucks, five minutes out of my day. And yet I don't spare even that for someone else.
If every time I was tempted to get Starbucks I bought a homeless man or woman a meal instead... think how many mouths I could feed, just me. It's not that I don't have the money. Sometimes, even when I don't have money, I still manage to get a sugar-laden treat when someone else is starving to death. As I sit here typing this, I'm drinking my soda, typing on my Macbook, in my nice little one-bedroom apartment. Every night when I walk home, I pass a woman sleeping on the bench at the bus stop. When I leave in the morning, she'll be gone for the day, but I guarantee you she'll be back on that bench to sleep tomorrow night again.
Where are your priorities, Arwen? Why can you buy Starbucks but not buy a man a meal? Why is it so easy for you to walk past the woman on the bench and not even think to get her a blanket or something to keep her warm? What's happened to you?
I've become jaded. And it's a problem.
Thank you, girls, for revealing this to me. You may not have realized it, but thank you. It's time to do some more changing... in the right direction this time.
35 For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
37 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?38 When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39 When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
40 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’
- Matthew 25:35-40
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
Hearing Day!
This post is basically going to be a bitch-fest, so don't say I didn't warn you.
Today is the day of my senior recital hearing. For the past several days I've eaten very little and slept even less trying to get everything ready and mostly memorized. I missed a class last Wednesday and now I'm missing the same class this week, because I'm a mess and I can't get my life under control. And also because I share a bathroom with my roommate, and she was in the bathroom when I needed to start curling my hair this morning and so I was running late and it's not like I could do it later because I don't have long enough breaks later and UGH.
I'm pissed because the class that I'm missing is literally my favorite class this semester. Awkwardly I don't even know what we're doing right now because I missed last week and I can't focus on anything between the lack of food and lack of sleep. I know I need to eat - I've been forcing myself to eat at least once a day - but I'm so anxious and nervous and uptight that it just makes me feel sick.
Also, we're pretty sure I had a panic attack on Saturday night. That was fun. Not. It's a long story, how it came about, and I'm not going to write it all out because I wouldn't be surprised to find that the cause of it reads this blog. But anyway. That was a thing. Thank God for my professor, who has been a godsend this entire year and has helped me get through all of this junk in my life and who called me Saturday night to help me get through the mess I was in.
Recital hearings are quite possibly the most nerve-wracking things ever. They stick you in a room with two professors who may or may not actually like and support you and then you perform your entire recital, just you and them and whatever cast you happen to have. Then they deliberate and decide if you're going to pass or fail, then they call you back in and tell you everything that's wrong with it and very little that's right and if you passed or not. If you don't fail, you have to come back and do the damn thing all over again.
This is utterly terrifying, just in general. It's made even worse when you're only given a week's notice! So, in less than a week, dances have choreographed, songs have been learned, monologues memorized, and although it's all done, we have one very freaked out girl. And everybody in the school keeps telling me to calm down and not freak out and to get out of my head, and what they don't understand is that no matter how much I try, it's going to happen anyway. Everything in my life is extreme, it always has been. I understand why people in high school didn't like me... because I was like this all the time. Luckily in college I've managed to calm down a good bit, but lately things have been amping up again. And I don't know how far it's going to go or how bad it's going to get.
I gave up a lot for Lent, I always do. I basically go vegan, like they did back in Medieval times (here, have an explanatory link: "Recreating Lent"), but this year it has been particularly hard. Two weeks ago I was home on spring break, and it's hard to avoid meat and alcohol when you're going out with friends. Then all of last week and this week, I've been eating so little in the first place that when I do eat something, it's gotta have protein... so I grab a Chick-fil-a sandwich and pray that God forgives me for breaking this fast again. That doesn't make it feel any less like I'm failing him somehow though.
And I think the worst part is that everyone is commenting that I'm losing weight. This terrifies me more that you could possibly know. I know I'll work back up to eating normally again once my life calms down a little bit, and it'll be fine. But I'm hoping and praying that I can do it in such a way that I can lose more weight by eating healthy than not eating at all. Because I know this is how eating disorders begin and I refuse to go there, flat-out refuse.
Of course, being in musical theatre there are people who seem to think that's the way to go. I want to tell anybody who is reading this to ignore that... I have a professor who I love dearly, but who loves to comment on my body, and it's getting to the point where I want to tell him to go f*** off. I just keep telling myself, only a few more weeks 'til running season and summer and then hopefully I can get healthy again and get him off my back.
And while he's in my mind, I have something else to say too. A joke was made yesterday about how a particular place can make a person "drink and slit their wrists." Everybody in the class laughed, and I wanted to punch a hole in the wall. I just sat in the corner and gritted my teeth, keeping it all in. This, I have to say. Cutting is not a fucking joke. From the perspective of someone who has been there, done that, it is not funny. It is sad and it is dangerous. Furthermore, it's addictive. Not everyone who does it does it for attention. In fact, I would argue that the people doing it for attention are the minority. No, I cannot vouch for everyone who has ever self-harmed, but I've done enough reading and I have enough experience from middle school to speak out about it. It's not something I often bring up, because along with the other things I never bring up, it's embarrassing. People who don't get it see it as a failing of some sort. Hell, I see it as a failing in myself. Or they think it's a cry for attention. Or sometimes, if they really don't know anything about it, they see it as a suicide attempt. Sometimes it is, but usually it's not.
Usually it's a release. It's a calming factor. It's a way to feel like you're taking control again, even though every time the blade bites in, you actually lose more control. It's a vicious cycle that makes you feel like a failure over and over again. You feel like a failure for falling into the trap in the first, which pulls you down, makes you miserable, and takes you right back to it. It's addictive. It can honestly be like a drug, because just like a drug, once you find that release, you just want to get back to that place over and over again. But also like a drug, the same amount doesn't do it every time. And it's a terrible downward spiral.
As soon as I have money, I'm getting my first tattoo. And I'm getting the words "You deserve to be loved because you exist" in white ink, small script, on the inside of my left wrist. Out of all the things I learned at college, that lesson has been the most important one. Maybe it's foolish, I don't know, but it's kept me going this entire year. It's the one truth I've been clinging to above all the others.
I'm here for a reason. God doesn't make garbage. He made me, and he loves me, and I deserve to be loved both by myself and by others.
And if I hear one more joke about slitting wrists or any other similar subject (I'm not even going to go into the callous remarks made about things Friday night), I will lose it and the person who said it will be very sorry. End of discussion.
Today is the day of my senior recital hearing. For the past several days I've eaten very little and slept even less trying to get everything ready and mostly memorized. I missed a class last Wednesday and now I'm missing the same class this week, because I'm a mess and I can't get my life under control. And also because I share a bathroom with my roommate, and she was in the bathroom when I needed to start curling my hair this morning and so I was running late and it's not like I could do it later because I don't have long enough breaks later and UGH.
I'm pissed because the class that I'm missing is literally my favorite class this semester. Awkwardly I don't even know what we're doing right now because I missed last week and I can't focus on anything between the lack of food and lack of sleep. I know I need to eat - I've been forcing myself to eat at least once a day - but I'm so anxious and nervous and uptight that it just makes me feel sick.
Also, we're pretty sure I had a panic attack on Saturday night. That was fun. Not. It's a long story, how it came about, and I'm not going to write it all out because I wouldn't be surprised to find that the cause of it reads this blog. But anyway. That was a thing. Thank God for my professor, who has been a godsend this entire year and has helped me get through all of this junk in my life and who called me Saturday night to help me get through the mess I was in.
Recital hearings are quite possibly the most nerve-wracking things ever. They stick you in a room with two professors who may or may not actually like and support you and then you perform your entire recital, just you and them and whatever cast you happen to have. Then they deliberate and decide if you're going to pass or fail, then they call you back in and tell you everything that's wrong with it and very little that's right and if you passed or not. If you don't fail, you have to come back and do the damn thing all over again.
This is utterly terrifying, just in general. It's made even worse when you're only given a week's notice! So, in less than a week, dances have choreographed, songs have been learned, monologues memorized, and although it's all done, we have one very freaked out girl. And everybody in the school keeps telling me to calm down and not freak out and to get out of my head, and what they don't understand is that no matter how much I try, it's going to happen anyway. Everything in my life is extreme, it always has been. I understand why people in high school didn't like me... because I was like this all the time. Luckily in college I've managed to calm down a good bit, but lately things have been amping up again. And I don't know how far it's going to go or how bad it's going to get.
I gave up a lot for Lent, I always do. I basically go vegan, like they did back in Medieval times (here, have an explanatory link: "Recreating Lent"), but this year it has been particularly hard. Two weeks ago I was home on spring break, and it's hard to avoid meat and alcohol when you're going out with friends. Then all of last week and this week, I've been eating so little in the first place that when I do eat something, it's gotta have protein... so I grab a Chick-fil-a sandwich and pray that God forgives me for breaking this fast again. That doesn't make it feel any less like I'm failing him somehow though.
And I think the worst part is that everyone is commenting that I'm losing weight. This terrifies me more that you could possibly know. I know I'll work back up to eating normally again once my life calms down a little bit, and it'll be fine. But I'm hoping and praying that I can do it in such a way that I can lose more weight by eating healthy than not eating at all. Because I know this is how eating disorders begin and I refuse to go there, flat-out refuse.
Of course, being in musical theatre there are people who seem to think that's the way to go. I want to tell anybody who is reading this to ignore that... I have a professor who I love dearly, but who loves to comment on my body, and it's getting to the point where I want to tell him to go f*** off. I just keep telling myself, only a few more weeks 'til running season and summer and then hopefully I can get healthy again and get him off my back.
And while he's in my mind, I have something else to say too. A joke was made yesterday about how a particular place can make a person "drink and slit their wrists." Everybody in the class laughed, and I wanted to punch a hole in the wall. I just sat in the corner and gritted my teeth, keeping it all in. This, I have to say. Cutting is not a fucking joke. From the perspective of someone who has been there, done that, it is not funny. It is sad and it is dangerous. Furthermore, it's addictive. Not everyone who does it does it for attention. In fact, I would argue that the people doing it for attention are the minority. No, I cannot vouch for everyone who has ever self-harmed, but I've done enough reading and I have enough experience from middle school to speak out about it. It's not something I often bring up, because along with the other things I never bring up, it's embarrassing. People who don't get it see it as a failing of some sort. Hell, I see it as a failing in myself. Or they think it's a cry for attention. Or sometimes, if they really don't know anything about it, they see it as a suicide attempt. Sometimes it is, but usually it's not.
Usually it's a release. It's a calming factor. It's a way to feel like you're taking control again, even though every time the blade bites in, you actually lose more control. It's a vicious cycle that makes you feel like a failure over and over again. You feel like a failure for falling into the trap in the first, which pulls you down, makes you miserable, and takes you right back to it. It's addictive. It can honestly be like a drug, because just like a drug, once you find that release, you just want to get back to that place over and over again. But also like a drug, the same amount doesn't do it every time. And it's a terrible downward spiral.
As soon as I have money, I'm getting my first tattoo. And I'm getting the words "You deserve to be loved because you exist" in white ink, small script, on the inside of my left wrist. Out of all the things I learned at college, that lesson has been the most important one. Maybe it's foolish, I don't know, but it's kept me going this entire year. It's the one truth I've been clinging to above all the others.
I'm here for a reason. God doesn't make garbage. He made me, and he loves me, and I deserve to be loved both by myself and by others.
And if I hear one more joke about slitting wrists or any other similar subject (I'm not even going to go into the callous remarks made about things Friday night), I will lose it and the person who said it will be very sorry. End of discussion.
Friday, February 07, 2014
Thoughts
Just some pyschological musings tonight... having completed the first day of a workout, I'm feeling very proud of myself (even as my abs are still spasming). I find myself wondering, why is it that the feeling of pride I get on the first day isn't enough to motivate me on the third? Why is it that I'm so happy when my place is finally clean, but never quite happy enough to keep it clean? How I can I look at myself in the mirror and be pleased one day and disgusted the next?
Human nature, I suppose. These ramblings are tumbling over each other in my head and I think I really ought to just go to sleep and forget about them. But they're there, all the same.
Why is pride in oneself and one's work never enough to propel one in a forwardly direction?
Human nature, I suppose. These ramblings are tumbling over each other in my head and I think I really ought to just go to sleep and forget about them. But they're there, all the same.
Why is pride in oneself and one's work never enough to propel one in a forwardly direction?
Wednesday, January 01, 2014
DAME ANGELA!
In honor of the beautiful, talented Angela Lansbury being made a dame (bloody finally), I've compiled a list of my top ten favorite Angela moments from her shows and movies to share with you. :)
10. Mrs. Sue-Ellen Gamadge from Gore Vidal's "The Best Man." This was the only show I've ever seen Dame Angela in, and I loved it!
8. Mrs. 'Arris Goes to Paris! The entire movie is an absolute gem.
7. Gwendolyn the Fair in The Court Jester. Costars in this film included Basil Rathbone, the incomparable Danny Kaye, and Glynis Johns. (This video focuses on Danny Kaye rather than Angela, but I couldn't find a good clip of her... so enjoy this one and then go watch the full film).
6. Send in the Clowns
5. Cracking up with Len Cariou in "A Little Priest."
4. DAME Angela and DAME Julie during the Julie Andrews Hour! Not many people remember the Julie Andrews Hour (I believe it only lasted a season) but during that season, the performances were just as star-studded as the Carol Burnett Show. In these two clips, you'll also see Steve Lawrence and Rich Little, two other very fine performers. Dream show? Arsenic and Old Lace starring Angela and Julie as Abigail and Martha Brewster. Hurry, somebody mount that!
3. "We Need a Little Christmas" with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. One of the reasons I love Angela is because she's grown old gracefully, and is still performing with the same beauty and agility that she has for years. This video shows that.
2. Almost Young from Mrs. Santa Claus. One of my favorite roles for her... she IS Mrs. Santa Claus.
1. Bosom Buddies with Bea Arthur at the 1987 Tony Awards. Two fabulous ladies cutting up and absolutely having a blast. What's not to love? Also, Angela knows how to dress... when I get my first Tony, I fully intend to wear a gown more or less exactly like this.
10. Mrs. Sue-Ellen Gamadge from Gore Vidal's "The Best Man." This was the only show I've ever seen Dame Angela in, and I loved it!
9. Madame Armfeldt - Liaisons from Sondheim's "A Little Night Music."
8. Mrs. 'Arris Goes to Paris! The entire movie is an absolute gem.
7. Gwendolyn the Fair in The Court Jester. Costars in this film included Basil Rathbone, the incomparable Danny Kaye, and Glynis Johns. (This video focuses on Danny Kaye rather than Angela, but I couldn't find a good clip of her... so enjoy this one and then go watch the full film).
6. Send in the Clowns
5. Cracking up with Len Cariou in "A Little Priest."
4. DAME Angela and DAME Julie during the Julie Andrews Hour! Not many people remember the Julie Andrews Hour (I believe it only lasted a season) but during that season, the performances were just as star-studded as the Carol Burnett Show. In these two clips, you'll also see Steve Lawrence and Rich Little, two other very fine performers. Dream show? Arsenic and Old Lace starring Angela and Julie as Abigail and Martha Brewster. Hurry, somebody mount that!
2. Almost Young from Mrs. Santa Claus. One of my favorite roles for her... she IS Mrs. Santa Claus.
1. Bosom Buddies with Bea Arthur at the 1987 Tony Awards. Two fabulous ladies cutting up and absolutely having a blast. What's not to love? Also, Angela knows how to dress... when I get my first Tony, I fully intend to wear a gown more or less exactly like this.
There you have it! My favorite Angela moments. I love this lady and I hope I have her passion, drive, and class when I'm eighty-some years old! Hope you enjoyed the list!
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
2013
I usually feel obligated to post something on New Year's Eve, but I usually do it through facebook rather than this blog. I rarely do anything through this blog anymore... but it's a little past 2 am on New Year's Eve of 2013, and I can't sleep yet... what better time to reflect on the ups and downs of the past year, to dream about what 2014 might hold and to make a few foolish resolutions that will probably be broken in a matter of days than now? ;)
2013 has been filled with ups and downs... if I'm honest with myself, there are probably more ups than downs, really. I can't even think of any crappy moments right now, I'm so overwhelmed thinking about the wonderful ones! Top moments include singing at Vice President Biden's Christmas party, performing in my first college production ("The Pajama Game" with Montgomery College Summer Dinner Theatre), the first time I confided in my at-school "dad" (and all of the subsequent times with him), starting the Beauty in You Campaign (which you can visit on facebook or my photography website!), finding out my best friend is pregnant again, the last Christmas concert with my class, moving into my new apartment with my dear friend and roommate Kate, celebrating my best friend's 21st birthday, the March for Life, all the time I've spent at the Towne Taverne or Bull Run with Janny and Celina, celebrating my 21st birthday with my dear Madame, seeing Great Big Sea in concert, getting my first professional headshots done, the moments spent rocking Miss Coraline Brock to sleep, finding my attitude in dance class and making Shawn's picture wall, taking tons of pictures for my amazing friends and family, being bridesmaid for my childhood best friend as she married her Prince Charming, seeing four of my dearest friends tie the knot, time spent at San Antonio's with some of the MT '14 gang, time spent assistant directing "The Drowsy Chaperone," and passing my last undergraduate music theory class!
Of course, all the times I've spent with my family and my dear friends who might as well be family were the backbone of my year. There are all of the board games I've played with Dad and the boys, all of the shopping Mom and I have done together. There are all of the photo shoots and wonderful times spent just hanging out with my best friend Sarah, and the hugs and kisses from Ricky. There are the times I've spent with all four of my ladies: Madame, Debbie, Alicia, and Janny. Most recently I've been spending quite a bit of time with Jan... and somehow I haven't driven her completely crazy yet! Lol. I've grown closer to some old friends (Jenn), let go of some old grudges (Katie), and forged new relationships (Nicki). I've spent tons of time with James and Hannah just being crazy, and time with Kenzie watching old musicals and eating Chinese together.
I've spend more time that I like being down and depressed for no good reason. I've wasted a lot of tears on foolish things or people; I've cried honestly about things I can't help but wish I could. I've gotten angry over nothing. But I've gotten some better. And looking back through diary entries and facebook posts/messages, it is beyond clear to me that even when I've felt most alone, I've been surrounded by people who love me; all I have to do is pick up the phone and send a text or make a phone call. They're there for me, I just need to get away from myself enough to realize that.
Which brings me to my hopes for 2014. Fourteen goals/hopes/non-resolutions for the New Year:
1. Make a point of contacting all of the important people in my life at least once a week, including my family, my bestie, and my ladies. I can't complain about staying in touch if I don't make a concerted effort to stay in touch with them. On that note, make sure they know what they mean to me; any conversation could be the last.
2. Finish a novel, preferably either Khasa, Uncommon Soldier, Histoire d'Amour, or one of the Chloe MacPherson novels (but any novel will do!).
3. Avoid falling into depression and selfishness by focusing on the people in my life, rather than the people that are missing from it.
4. Do everything possible for a healthier, happier Jade... like cutting out processed foods again and running or swimming on my days off from dance class.
5. Be a better example for my cousins and my sweet "nephews," Ricky and Shain... in everything; live my life like I'd want them to live theirs.
6. Finish enough music for a cd release.
7. Get rid of the extra stuff in my life... like the books and shoes and whatnot that I never use.
8. Audition for more shows and perform in my first professional theatrical production.
9. Stop skipping class and avoiding homework. Even though I can't possibly make Dean's list at this point, I can still do a heck of a lot better than I have been.
10. Try to live up to the cross around my neck, in every possible way.
11. Make official plans to leave the country for the first time. Get that passport and get ready to go... then do it.
12. Party a little more. Freak out a little less. I'm 22 and single... there's no reason to spend every Friday night in my apartment.
13. Stop being afraid of the dating scene. Go on at least three dates by 2015... that's a liberal estimate considering my track record at this point! ;)
14. Be a more beautiful, happier, more confident Jade by 2015. Know what's happening next and be okay with it... whether that's DC, Mifflinburg, New York, California, France, Canada... pray for the possibilities throughout this year, and graduate knowing the basic logistics of what is coming next.
It's a tall order. And I'm sure I won't remember half of them... plus I'm notoriously bad at actually reaching goals like these. But they're worth the long shot, all of them.
Tomorrow when I finally crawl out of bed (today, rather), I'm cleaning out the car and then taking my camera on an adventure. We're visiting all of my haunts here in Mifflinburg and the surrounding areas... by the end of the day I will have a black and white photolog of this incredible place to take with me. I don't know what's happening in my life; I don't know where I'm going or what I'm doing. But I know how much my home means to me... and I know that will never slip away.
Until I write again, happy New Year. May your 2014 be abundantly blessed, and may you keep your resolutions this time around. ;)
2013 has been filled with ups and downs... if I'm honest with myself, there are probably more ups than downs, really. I can't even think of any crappy moments right now, I'm so overwhelmed thinking about the wonderful ones! Top moments include singing at Vice President Biden's Christmas party, performing in my first college production ("The Pajama Game" with Montgomery College Summer Dinner Theatre), the first time I confided in my at-school "dad" (and all of the subsequent times with him), starting the Beauty in You Campaign (which you can visit on facebook or my photography website!), finding out my best friend is pregnant again, the last Christmas concert with my class, moving into my new apartment with my dear friend and roommate Kate, celebrating my best friend's 21st birthday, the March for Life, all the time I've spent at the Towne Taverne or Bull Run with Janny and Celina, celebrating my 21st birthday with my dear Madame, seeing Great Big Sea in concert, getting my first professional headshots done, the moments spent rocking Miss Coraline Brock to sleep, finding my attitude in dance class and making Shawn's picture wall, taking tons of pictures for my amazing friends and family, being bridesmaid for my childhood best friend as she married her Prince Charming, seeing four of my dearest friends tie the knot, time spent at San Antonio's with some of the MT '14 gang, time spent assistant directing "The Drowsy Chaperone," and passing my last undergraduate music theory class!
Of course, all the times I've spent with my family and my dear friends who might as well be family were the backbone of my year. There are all of the board games I've played with Dad and the boys, all of the shopping Mom and I have done together. There are all of the photo shoots and wonderful times spent just hanging out with my best friend Sarah, and the hugs and kisses from Ricky. There are the times I've spent with all four of my ladies: Madame, Debbie, Alicia, and Janny. Most recently I've been spending quite a bit of time with Jan... and somehow I haven't driven her completely crazy yet! Lol. I've grown closer to some old friends (Jenn), let go of some old grudges (Katie), and forged new relationships (Nicki). I've spent tons of time with James and Hannah just being crazy, and time with Kenzie watching old musicals and eating Chinese together.
I've spend more time that I like being down and depressed for no good reason. I've wasted a lot of tears on foolish things or people; I've cried honestly about things I can't help but wish I could. I've gotten angry over nothing. But I've gotten some better. And looking back through diary entries and facebook posts/messages, it is beyond clear to me that even when I've felt most alone, I've been surrounded by people who love me; all I have to do is pick up the phone and send a text or make a phone call. They're there for me, I just need to get away from myself enough to realize that.
Which brings me to my hopes for 2014. Fourteen goals/hopes/non-resolutions for the New Year:
1. Make a point of contacting all of the important people in my life at least once a week, including my family, my bestie, and my ladies. I can't complain about staying in touch if I don't make a concerted effort to stay in touch with them. On that note, make sure they know what they mean to me; any conversation could be the last.
2. Finish a novel, preferably either Khasa, Uncommon Soldier, Histoire d'Amour, or one of the Chloe MacPherson novels (but any novel will do!).
3. Avoid falling into depression and selfishness by focusing on the people in my life, rather than the people that are missing from it.
4. Do everything possible for a healthier, happier Jade... like cutting out processed foods again and running or swimming on my days off from dance class.
5. Be a better example for my cousins and my sweet "nephews," Ricky and Shain... in everything; live my life like I'd want them to live theirs.
6. Finish enough music for a cd release.
7. Get rid of the extra stuff in my life... like the books and shoes and whatnot that I never use.
8. Audition for more shows and perform in my first professional theatrical production.
9. Stop skipping class and avoiding homework. Even though I can't possibly make Dean's list at this point, I can still do a heck of a lot better than I have been.
10. Try to live up to the cross around my neck, in every possible way.
11. Make official plans to leave the country for the first time. Get that passport and get ready to go... then do it.
12. Party a little more. Freak out a little less. I'm 22 and single... there's no reason to spend every Friday night in my apartment.
13. Stop being afraid of the dating scene. Go on at least three dates by 2015... that's a liberal estimate considering my track record at this point! ;)
14. Be a more beautiful, happier, more confident Jade by 2015. Know what's happening next and be okay with it... whether that's DC, Mifflinburg, New York, California, France, Canada... pray for the possibilities throughout this year, and graduate knowing the basic logistics of what is coming next.
It's a tall order. And I'm sure I won't remember half of them... plus I'm notoriously bad at actually reaching goals like these. But they're worth the long shot, all of them.
Tomorrow when I finally crawl out of bed (today, rather), I'm cleaning out the car and then taking my camera on an adventure. We're visiting all of my haunts here in Mifflinburg and the surrounding areas... by the end of the day I will have a black and white photolog of this incredible place to take with me. I don't know what's happening in my life; I don't know where I'm going or what I'm doing. But I know how much my home means to me... and I know that will never slip away.
Until I write again, happy New Year. May your 2014 be abundantly blessed, and may you keep your resolutions this time around. ;)
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Babies Having Babies
The next person who tells me that I can't have children or get married now or that I don't want to get married and have babies now is going to hear a long, winded diatribe. I have had enough.
I don't give a damn if you got married young and it worked out. I don't care if you waited and it worked out. If you were married young and it didn't work, I'm sorry, but you're not me. If you waited and it still didn't work out, again, I'm sorry. But I have news for you: I'm not freaking you. I have my own life to live, and my own mistakes to make; believe me, there will be plenty of them!
Marriage and parenting are two major things that everyone thinks they know about and guess what? No one is perfect! Keep your nose in your own marriage and children... maybe fewer people would get divorced if they did less meddling and more focusing on their own families. Besides, why does anyone care whether I get married young or old, whether I have babies now or later? I'm sorry, I don't want to wait until I'm forty to start trying, only to find out that the expiration date on my eggs was years ago.
Yes, I'm well aware that many women have children at forty and older. This is not a scientific essay, it is a rant. If young marriage and parenting isn't for you, great! You do you! If marriage and parenting isn't for you at all, great! Again, you do you! But let me do me!
There is so much feminist talk in this world. Everyone wants equality, everyone lobbies for identical rights and whatnot. Well, fine. But I have more news for you. Women are not men. There are things that women were designed to do (like having babies). Why is it that equality and rights are great when it comes to things like jobs, voting, etc. (all of which I am grateful for) but when it comes to wanting to get married and have kids, any woman who wants that over job security is looked down upon?? That's insane! Other women should not put down a woman who wants to get married and have children. That's just plain wrong. Why are we destroying each other's dreams? I'm not going to judge you too much for wanting a career instead of children. I may not be able to understand it, but whatever... if that's you, then great. But could you please stop telling me what you think is right for me? You are not the author of my life, and in most cases, you don't even know me well enough to know whether I'd be a good mother or not.
That said, to my utter heartbreak, there is no man in my life to marry me and be a father to these hypothetical children, and at 21, there is no way I could or would adopt little ones. But that doesn't make the desire any less intense. I dare you to imagine having your career stripped away from you, to have people constantly tell you that you don't want that or can't want that, and tell me it doesn't wear on you and grate on you.
All I want in life is to be a wife and mother. That does not make me less of a woman than the business exec.
And the fact that I even had to write that last sentence is beyond ridiculous.
I don't give a damn if you got married young and it worked out. I don't care if you waited and it worked out. If you were married young and it didn't work, I'm sorry, but you're not me. If you waited and it still didn't work out, again, I'm sorry. But I have news for you: I'm not freaking you. I have my own life to live, and my own mistakes to make; believe me, there will be plenty of them!
Marriage and parenting are two major things that everyone thinks they know about and guess what? No one is perfect! Keep your nose in your own marriage and children... maybe fewer people would get divorced if they did less meddling and more focusing on their own families. Besides, why does anyone care whether I get married young or old, whether I have babies now or later? I'm sorry, I don't want to wait until I'm forty to start trying, only to find out that the expiration date on my eggs was years ago.
Yes, I'm well aware that many women have children at forty and older. This is not a scientific essay, it is a rant. If young marriage and parenting isn't for you, great! You do you! If marriage and parenting isn't for you at all, great! Again, you do you! But let me do me!
There is so much feminist talk in this world. Everyone wants equality, everyone lobbies for identical rights and whatnot. Well, fine. But I have more news for you. Women are not men. There are things that women were designed to do (like having babies). Why is it that equality and rights are great when it comes to things like jobs, voting, etc. (all of which I am grateful for) but when it comes to wanting to get married and have kids, any woman who wants that over job security is looked down upon?? That's insane! Other women should not put down a woman who wants to get married and have children. That's just plain wrong. Why are we destroying each other's dreams? I'm not going to judge you too much for wanting a career instead of children. I may not be able to understand it, but whatever... if that's you, then great. But could you please stop telling me what you think is right for me? You are not the author of my life, and in most cases, you don't even know me well enough to know whether I'd be a good mother or not.
That said, to my utter heartbreak, there is no man in my life to marry me and be a father to these hypothetical children, and at 21, there is no way I could or would adopt little ones. But that doesn't make the desire any less intense. I dare you to imagine having your career stripped away from you, to have people constantly tell you that you don't want that or can't want that, and tell me it doesn't wear on you and grate on you.
All I want in life is to be a wife and mother. That does not make me less of a woman than the business exec.
And the fact that I even had to write that last sentence is beyond ridiculous.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Ranting and Raving
*Disclaimer: this post will not be politically correct, in any way. You've been warned.*
Let me delve further into that example. Last night as I waited at the Chinatown bus stop, there was a crowd of young black people. Now, I have absolutely nothing against black people, or Asian people, or any other kind of people. I do, however, have something against ragged, rowdy hoods who don't seem to care that they're being more obnoxious than should be humanly possible, which is exactly what these people were doing. They were acting foolish and immature, rapping loudly using foul language, and screaming and hollering at each other in vulgar tongues, calling each other n***a and other foul names.
I must ask why, when so many people (even this many years after desegregation and equality) still hold racial prejudices, do young people continue to act like those hateful stereotypes?
It does occur to me as I type this that perhaps I'm being the stereotypical white girl from a small town, who knows nothing, is offended by much, and things she knows more than she actually does. Perhaps I'm being overly judgmental, and of so, then I apologize to whoever this might offend. That is not my intent, but I also don't feel like walking on eggshells right now. I know many strong, beautiful, sensible, wonderful people of many different races. I understand cultural differences. I get that. What I don't get are those that deliberately perpetrate the foul images in so many people's minds.
Ugh. To continue, off of this topic. As frustrated as I was with the obnoxious kids last night, when I got on the bus I couldn't help grinning. There were several very sweet people on the bus that, although they obviously did not make me forget the hoodlums from the stop, did remind me that people are people and race is not the issue but rather upbringing, situation, and personality.
The first of this good trio was a pair of little girls. Their dad was clearly doing all he could to keep track of them, and they obviously loved him very much. They were 2 and 4 years old, and the whole time they were on the bus, they kept singing verse after verse (in the style of the munchkin from the Little Rascals' "I got a pickle"), "I love peaches, I love peaches. I love bananas, I love bananas. I love grapes, I love grapes." At point they stopped and I looked down and said, "Do you like apples?" The little girl's eyes got really wide as if she was upset she forgot the apples, and then she started singing. We were serenaded by chorus after chorus of "I love apples" the rest of the time they were on the bus.
They got off, and there was finally room for me to sit down. I sat down next to an elderly black woman who was crocheting a bag. We got to talking a little bit, and she was telling me about how she was headed to UDC for a class, and how I should never stop learning and searching for what made me happy. I commented on he crocheting at one point, saying, "I wish I could crochet like that. I only know how to do one stitch, and I'm sure I don't do it right." She laughed and pulled another ball of yarn out of her bag, handed it to me with her crochet hook, and asked me to show her. I did, and she (along with several other ladies) were admiring the stitches. "Hey, she's got a double!" one of them exclaimed. Now, a double crochet is not hard, but for some reason they were so excited that I had a double crochet stitch.
In between all of this, there was a precious little Hispanic boy and his dad. I don't if the little was just really, really shy or if he didn't speak much English (and I speak no Spanish whatsoever... I can say "Hola, como estas?" but my vocabulary stops there), but he was was very nervous and not wanting to talk at first. I kept just smiling and waving at him though, and by the end of the 30-minute trip, he was bringing me little slips of paper and grinning up at me from ear to ear.
So in the course of less than an hour, I found myself feeling extremely discouraged by humanity, and by the end of it, found myself more hopeful than before I started out.
I just want to say, to charge to all the young people out there, to continue being hope for the world. The world needs it. The hoodlums have always been there and always will be, in every shape, size, and color. But between education, compassion, charity, and a little hope, we might actually be able to make a dent in the mess of this world.
Monday, May 27, 2013
Reflections
I took about two hours tonight and reread this entire blog... wow. I have to say, I am more than a little shocked at the things that I've written here over the past seven years. In more recent years, it's tapered off, to the point that this post in May is the first one for 2013, and honestly, that may be a good thing.
Reading back over these posts was, for the most part, incredibly embarrassing, kinda funny, and at points really bitchy and really, really crazy. I have to say... Peter's parents were right about me being crazy. I'm praying I've gotten a little better, but I wouldn't put any money on it. And I apologize... to anyone that I mentioned in here in a bad way, I apologize. To anyone I obsessed over... I'm sorry.
I want to hope and pray that things will get better. Things are good now. I'm doing well. I'm busy, I'm relatively happy... and now I'm seeing things a little more clearly than I did before.
So.
Here I am. It is May 2013, and I'm in my apartment at 1:30 in the morning. My roommate is in his room and I'm watching My Fair Wedding while I'm supposed to be doing schoolwork and I'm actually writing this blog post. It's been almost a full year and a half since Peter and I broke up, and I've gone back and forth so many times... his fault, my fault, his fault, my fault... I think I might be right in saying that neither one of us is completely at fault, but we both did our fair share to hurt each other. It breaks my heart to think about how much I hurt him, and as much as I HATE his new girlfriend (yes, just because she's with him, yes, that's crazy too) I hope and pray that maybe she can help to straighten out what I couldn't... and the stuff that I added to the mess. And I pray that someday he'll forgive me.
I am officially a senior in college... rereading my posts from freshman year, this is not exactly where I expected to be. I have an apartment, that much is true. But my relationships are completely and utterly different. My "sister" Jenn and I were on the outs for awhile, but now we're getting close again and I'm a bridesmaid in her wedding... oh, yeah. She's getting married this summer. What???? It seems like we're still little kids just dreaming about it, but for Jenn, it's actually happening. I started out as bridal consultant and photographer for her, and now I'm photographer and bridal consultant and bridesmaid and I'm singing and toasting. Oy. But I'll pull every ounce of me together and make it all work for her, I can't wait.
In the meantime I'm doing The Pajama Game at Montgomery College and trying to decide if the whole Broadway thing is what I really want to do. With the taste of marriage that I got with Peter, it's like I've tasted some kind of drug and can't get enough... I know I want to be married, to settle down and have children. I want the cooking and the cleaning and the arguing and the yelling and the loving and the talking and the in-laws and all of it. I know it isn't a fairy tale. But it's worth it. But... especially after the reflecting and reminiscing I've been doing over the last several days... I'm not sure that I want to put any man through that with me. Thinking back on Peter... I'm pretty sure no matter how old I get, I'm going to think I'm more mature than I am and end up hurting people, and it isn't worth that.
I don't know what's going to happen after graduation. I do know I'll graduate in December, not May, because I'm taking an extra semester to make up the one I missed last year. At this point, I'm planning on going home to live and work for at least a year while I try to figure out what on earth is going to happen next. And other than that... I just don't know. I love music, I love singing, but I don't know if it's what's in store for me forever. I love photography... but I don't know if I have what it takes for that either. I love bridal consulting... same story, different verse.
I love many, many things. But I also need to make a living. And I want to be happy with that living.
This has been a fairly lengthy ramble, just to say that, well... I'm still here. I'm crazy as ever, but working on it. And I'm going to make something good happen, somehow.
Reading back over these posts was, for the most part, incredibly embarrassing, kinda funny, and at points really bitchy and really, really crazy. I have to say... Peter's parents were right about me being crazy. I'm praying I've gotten a little better, but I wouldn't put any money on it. And I apologize... to anyone that I mentioned in here in a bad way, I apologize. To anyone I obsessed over... I'm sorry.
I want to hope and pray that things will get better. Things are good now. I'm doing well. I'm busy, I'm relatively happy... and now I'm seeing things a little more clearly than I did before.
So.
Here I am. It is May 2013, and I'm in my apartment at 1:30 in the morning. My roommate is in his room and I'm watching My Fair Wedding while I'm supposed to be doing schoolwork and I'm actually writing this blog post. It's been almost a full year and a half since Peter and I broke up, and I've gone back and forth so many times... his fault, my fault, his fault, my fault... I think I might be right in saying that neither one of us is completely at fault, but we both did our fair share to hurt each other. It breaks my heart to think about how much I hurt him, and as much as I HATE his new girlfriend (yes, just because she's with him, yes, that's crazy too) I hope and pray that maybe she can help to straighten out what I couldn't... and the stuff that I added to the mess. And I pray that someday he'll forgive me.
I am officially a senior in college... rereading my posts from freshman year, this is not exactly where I expected to be. I have an apartment, that much is true. But my relationships are completely and utterly different. My "sister" Jenn and I were on the outs for awhile, but now we're getting close again and I'm a bridesmaid in her wedding... oh, yeah. She's getting married this summer. What???? It seems like we're still little kids just dreaming about it, but for Jenn, it's actually happening. I started out as bridal consultant and photographer for her, and now I'm photographer and bridal consultant and bridesmaid and I'm singing and toasting. Oy. But I'll pull every ounce of me together and make it all work for her, I can't wait.
In the meantime I'm doing The Pajama Game at Montgomery College and trying to decide if the whole Broadway thing is what I really want to do. With the taste of marriage that I got with Peter, it's like I've tasted some kind of drug and can't get enough... I know I want to be married, to settle down and have children. I want the cooking and the cleaning and the arguing and the yelling and the loving and the talking and the in-laws and all of it. I know it isn't a fairy tale. But it's worth it. But... especially after the reflecting and reminiscing I've been doing over the last several days... I'm not sure that I want to put any man through that with me. Thinking back on Peter... I'm pretty sure no matter how old I get, I'm going to think I'm more mature than I am and end up hurting people, and it isn't worth that.
I don't know what's going to happen after graduation. I do know I'll graduate in December, not May, because I'm taking an extra semester to make up the one I missed last year. At this point, I'm planning on going home to live and work for at least a year while I try to figure out what on earth is going to happen next. And other than that... I just don't know. I love music, I love singing, but I don't know if it's what's in store for me forever. I love photography... but I don't know if I have what it takes for that either. I love bridal consulting... same story, different verse.
I love many, many things. But I also need to make a living. And I want to be happy with that living.
This has been a fairly lengthy ramble, just to say that, well... I'm still here. I'm crazy as ever, but working on it. And I'm going to make something good happen, somehow.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Nothing Says "Welcome Home" Quite Like the Basilica!
I'm BAAAAAAAAAAAACK! I'm not sure CUA is ready to have me back again, but I am happily here, nonetheless.
Being here for six weeks over the summer definitely helped me get back into the swing of things, and I couldn't be happier to be back here and studying again. Is it perfect? In a word... no. My biggest fear coming back was how close the class (minus myself) was when I left and that they would all be even closer when I got back. On this subject, I was very right. They are all the best of friends... but it's always been that way, and I was "that girl" who was too stuck on a guy to make those solid friendships. Now, that said, it's definitely not like they ignore me or anything like that. Everyone has been super open and warm and sweet; lots of hugs all around and whatnot, and I'm pretty sure that if I actually do stuff with them instead of being a witch things will work out. I really do love a lot of the people here (there are a few I could do without, but the feeling is mutual so we generally just avoid each other) and I'm super excited for a new adventure.
Classes are going to be great. I have some really great profs for my academic courses (a theology and a drama course), and a lot of my MT class is in History of Musical Theatre with me... so that will be good, too, I think. It's going to be a lot of work; but when hasn't it been? It's always worth it to me.
I have an apartment! It's fantastic; I don't remember if I wrote about it before, so I might as well do it again. I live not too far from the school (for privacy reasons I'm not writing where exactly), and I have a pretty spacious room and a nice bathroom. Oh, and there's a bathtub in the bathroom, and it's bigger than the bathtub at home.
I love my family dearly, and I miss them very much, but I am glad to be on my own again. I guess it is like Miss Alicia says: there comes a point when you just have to go. Mum and I were fighting a lot (the big cats can't share a cage) and I was getting kinda restless, so it's good to be back in the city. That said, I really hope they come see me because I do miss them a lot.
So that's basically life on the second day back at school. I'm looking at grad schools; my favorite program is the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, my second choice being a Master's in French from a university in France. I'm also thinking about taking this summer and going abroad! I'd be going to Ireland to study Shakespeare, which would be, in a word, amazing! So we'll see where life takes me.
For now, it's off to ballet class. A toute a l'heure!
Being here for six weeks over the summer definitely helped me get back into the swing of things, and I couldn't be happier to be back here and studying again. Is it perfect? In a word... no. My biggest fear coming back was how close the class (minus myself) was when I left and that they would all be even closer when I got back. On this subject, I was very right. They are all the best of friends... but it's always been that way, and I was "that girl" who was too stuck on a guy to make those solid friendships. Now, that said, it's definitely not like they ignore me or anything like that. Everyone has been super open and warm and sweet; lots of hugs all around and whatnot, and I'm pretty sure that if I actually do stuff with them instead of being a witch things will work out. I really do love a lot of the people here (there are a few I could do without, but the feeling is mutual so we generally just avoid each other) and I'm super excited for a new adventure.
Classes are going to be great. I have some really great profs for my academic courses (a theology and a drama course), and a lot of my MT class is in History of Musical Theatre with me... so that will be good, too, I think. It's going to be a lot of work; but when hasn't it been? It's always worth it to me.
I have an apartment! It's fantastic; I don't remember if I wrote about it before, so I might as well do it again. I live not too far from the school (for privacy reasons I'm not writing where exactly), and I have a pretty spacious room and a nice bathroom. Oh, and there's a bathtub in the bathroom, and it's bigger than the bathtub at home.
I love my family dearly, and I miss them very much, but I am glad to be on my own again. I guess it is like Miss Alicia says: there comes a point when you just have to go. Mum and I were fighting a lot (the big cats can't share a cage) and I was getting kinda restless, so it's good to be back in the city. That said, I really hope they come see me because I do miss them a lot.
So that's basically life on the second day back at school. I'm looking at grad schools; my favorite program is the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, my second choice being a Master's in French from a university in France. I'm also thinking about taking this summer and going abroad! I'd be going to Ireland to study Shakespeare, which would be, in a word, amazing! So we'll see where life takes me.
For now, it's off to ballet class. A toute a l'heure!
Belting My Face
I have returned!
Back to DC, that is. As for returning to constantly writing this blog, well, that's probably another story. Anyway. I am living in DC once again, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of city life. I missed it.
I did not miss the heat that rolls off of every car and building here, not to mention the pavement that is, well, everywhere. But I digress.
It's great to be back here. I miss home a lot... I kinda wish that I could swap DC and Harrisburg, ya know? Then the city would only be an hour away, I could either commute or have my own place, I could still work at Barnes and Noble, and I could see my friends whenever I bloody wanted.
That's the hardest part about being in DC, especially after being home again for six months. If I had just stayed down here to begin with, I would not have the strength in half of my friendships that I do now. I got to know people better when I went home, there were no distractions. Some friendships were rekindled, some build from scratch, and they're all stronger than any of my relationships were before. As much as I hate the reason that I went home, I am beyond grateful for what I had waiting for me anyway. There are five in particular that are so special to me, I can't even begin to explain it. They've been there for me the entire time, and I wouldn't trade them for the world.
I have an apartment here not far from the university, although we may be moving again in September. It's kinda weird having my own place, but not as weird as I thought. The only really strange thing is not having Peter there with me, because that was what was originally supposed to happen. But. C'est la vie!
Back to DC, that is. As for returning to constantly writing this blog, well, that's probably another story. Anyway. I am living in DC once again, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of city life. I missed it.
I did not miss the heat that rolls off of every car and building here, not to mention the pavement that is, well, everywhere. But I digress.
It's great to be back here. I miss home a lot... I kinda wish that I could swap DC and Harrisburg, ya know? Then the city would only be an hour away, I could either commute or have my own place, I could still work at Barnes and Noble, and I could see my friends whenever I bloody wanted.
That's the hardest part about being in DC, especially after being home again for six months. If I had just stayed down here to begin with, I would not have the strength in half of my friendships that I do now. I got to know people better when I went home, there were no distractions. Some friendships were rekindled, some build from scratch, and they're all stronger than any of my relationships were before. As much as I hate the reason that I went home, I am beyond grateful for what I had waiting for me anyway. There are five in particular that are so special to me, I can't even begin to explain it. They've been there for me the entire time, and I wouldn't trade them for the world.
I have an apartment here not far from the university, although we may be moving again in September. It's kinda weird having my own place, but not as weird as I thought. The only really strange thing is not having Peter there with me, because that was what was originally supposed to happen. But. C'est la vie!
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Bits and Pieces
Well, people, I think it's finally happened. I think I've finally flipped over that last edge to insanity... as I sit here at work, I swear I hear girls' flip flips coming my way, and the hangers are always screeching at night, which means either I'm officially nuts or there are ghosts in Barnes and Noble.
Of course, since I'm not the only one who hears the screeching, it's gotta be ghosts.
That's not comforting.
Ah, life. This weekend is Mother's Day, an angel's fifteen months, and I think I'm gonna have to see Peter at mass. Heaven help me, I don't want to let that distract me... and I'm not entirely sure how to help it. Urg.
I'm going back to CUA! The apartment hunt is on, searching for something in the Silver Spring area (hopefully) that costs relatively little that I can move into by June 23rd. Oy. Can I just tell you how difficult that seems to be? And every landlord wants credit reports and pay stubs and this, that, and the other thing. What don't they get about the fact that I'm a college student with very little credit and very low income, that my student loans will have to cover rent? Moreover, how to other college kids manage this? Parttime and working? Or do their parents make enough to pay for all of it?
Well, my parents don't make enough, and as for the parttime/work thing, I do what I can, but I'm a musical theatre major. That means a billion classes, auditions, internships, and all sorts of other nonsense that gets in the way of my education. :P
I'm starting to think already about life after college. I'm not sure I'll be ready to be done with my education... so graduate school? New York University to work and audition and get my master's all at the same time? I mean, why not? Or maybe off to Paris... I could work at Disneyland Paris, maybe. That would be fun... after all, I'm not quite fluent, but I'm working on it! (For anybody who actually reads this, thoughts about grad school are appreciated... I'm kinda in [personally] uncharted territory).
Father Bill is coming to dinner tomorrow. I have to work until 5, so I'm making the Napoleon cake for dessert tonight and hoping I have enough time to do the Chicken Parmesan tomorrow. I hope Father likes Italian food... and that he doesn't mind that we don't have wine. If I had my way, we would, but Mom and Dad still have come around to the idea. So. Water. Soda? Eh.
I'm in the midst of planning my junior recital. I can't believe I'm going to be a junior in college after this summer! When did that happen?!? I graduate in two years (with a little faith, love, and pixie dust), and then it's really into the big, bad world out there on my own. It's weird, 'cause I thought I'd be married and moving on with Peter... but it wasn't meant to be. I've finally somewhat come to grips with that idea, sort of. But it's still something to think about.
I had lunch the other day with two of my dearest ladies, we'll call them "Mrs. G." and "Mrs. F." If you know me, you probably know who they are. If not, well, it's protecting them... they're a little internet-shy. ;) They are the sweetest ladies in the world, though, and we (I) had a blast. They were telling story after story about their trips to Europe, talking about their domestic stuff, all that jazz. Something along these lines.
Mrs. G.: I love your tomato planters! Where did you get them?
Mrs. F.: Eh, I don't remember. Country Farm and Home, I think?
Mrs. G.: Did I tell you they've got me working again?
Mrs. F.: Oh? When? I'll have to stop in and get some more mulch. Oh, do you remember that time in that plane on the way to England? You were so sick!
Mrs. G.: We were both sick! Remember...?
And on and on for hours. I just sat there, grinning my head off, nodding and laughing at their antics. Lots of other people might have been bored by that, but not me. I found myself wishing time and time again to be like them when I'm their again: all the pep and pizzazz as most twenty-year-olds I know, such a zest for life and so many, many stories. Why bother living life if you don't have adventures, if you don't go places and do things with people you care about? Why would you want to reach retirement only to stop and fold back into yourself? They keep living, day in and day out, and I love it. They are such a great inspiration to me.
I was wearing the skirt that I made when we went out, and they were so excited about it. I feel like I finally have a niche when I'm out with them. My domestic sensibilities that are so awkward when most of my friends want nothing to do with cooking, sewing, raising babies, all that jazz... those same sensibilities are celebrated when I'm with these ladies. They are the norm, and it thrills me.
But more and more I realize, nothing is normal, and nothing is strange. Everything and everyone are just themselves. And I like being me. I wish I could show Peter what he's missing... but I know need to. For the most part, I know I'm better off just being me, and moving on. ~ This mountain I must climb Feels like the world upon my shoulders. Through the clouds I see it shine; Keeps me warm as I grow older. ~
Of course, since I'm not the only one who hears the screeching, it's gotta be ghosts.
That's not comforting.
Ah, life. This weekend is Mother's Day, an angel's fifteen months, and I think I'm gonna have to see Peter at mass. Heaven help me, I don't want to let that distract me... and I'm not entirely sure how to help it. Urg.
I'm going back to CUA! The apartment hunt is on, searching for something in the Silver Spring area (hopefully) that costs relatively little that I can move into by June 23rd. Oy. Can I just tell you how difficult that seems to be? And every landlord wants credit reports and pay stubs and this, that, and the other thing. What don't they get about the fact that I'm a college student with very little credit and very low income, that my student loans will have to cover rent? Moreover, how to other college kids manage this? Parttime and working? Or do their parents make enough to pay for all of it?
Well, my parents don't make enough, and as for the parttime/work thing, I do what I can, but I'm a musical theatre major. That means a billion classes, auditions, internships, and all sorts of other nonsense that gets in the way of my education. :P
I'm starting to think already about life after college. I'm not sure I'll be ready to be done with my education... so graduate school? New York University to work and audition and get my master's all at the same time? I mean, why not? Or maybe off to Paris... I could work at Disneyland Paris, maybe. That would be fun... after all, I'm not quite fluent, but I'm working on it! (For anybody who actually reads this, thoughts about grad school are appreciated... I'm kinda in [personally] uncharted territory).
Father Bill is coming to dinner tomorrow. I have to work until 5, so I'm making the Napoleon cake for dessert tonight and hoping I have enough time to do the Chicken Parmesan tomorrow. I hope Father likes Italian food... and that he doesn't mind that we don't have wine. If I had my way, we would, but Mom and Dad still have come around to the idea. So. Water. Soda? Eh.
I'm in the midst of planning my junior recital. I can't believe I'm going to be a junior in college after this summer! When did that happen?!? I graduate in two years (with a little faith, love, and pixie dust), and then it's really into the big, bad world out there on my own. It's weird, 'cause I thought I'd be married and moving on with Peter... but it wasn't meant to be. I've finally somewhat come to grips with that idea, sort of. But it's still something to think about.
I had lunch the other day with two of my dearest ladies, we'll call them "Mrs. G." and "Mrs. F." If you know me, you probably know who they are. If not, well, it's protecting them... they're a little internet-shy. ;) They are the sweetest ladies in the world, though, and we (I) had a blast. They were telling story after story about their trips to Europe, talking about their domestic stuff, all that jazz. Something along these lines.
Mrs. G.: I love your tomato planters! Where did you get them?
Mrs. F.: Eh, I don't remember. Country Farm and Home, I think?
Mrs. G.: Did I tell you they've got me working again?
Mrs. F.: Oh? When? I'll have to stop in and get some more mulch. Oh, do you remember that time in that plane on the way to England? You were so sick!
Mrs. G.: We were both sick! Remember...?
And on and on for hours. I just sat there, grinning my head off, nodding and laughing at their antics. Lots of other people might have been bored by that, but not me. I found myself wishing time and time again to be like them when I'm their again: all the pep and pizzazz as most twenty-year-olds I know, such a zest for life and so many, many stories. Why bother living life if you don't have adventures, if you don't go places and do things with people you care about? Why would you want to reach retirement only to stop and fold back into yourself? They keep living, day in and day out, and I love it. They are such a great inspiration to me.
I was wearing the skirt that I made when we went out, and they were so excited about it. I feel like I finally have a niche when I'm out with them. My domestic sensibilities that are so awkward when most of my friends want nothing to do with cooking, sewing, raising babies, all that jazz... those same sensibilities are celebrated when I'm with these ladies. They are the norm, and it thrills me.
But more and more I realize, nothing is normal, and nothing is strange. Everything and everyone are just themselves. And I like being me. I wish I could show Peter what he's missing... but I know need to. For the most part, I know I'm better off just being me, and moving on. ~ This mountain I must climb Feels like the world upon my shoulders. Through the clouds I see it shine; Keeps me warm as I grow older. ~
Monday, January 23, 2012
Life Goes On
"Life goes on, long after the joy of livin' is gone."
Not that the joy of living is gone, but yes, life goes on.
Today is the March for Life in Washington D.C., and today is the only day that I wish I would have stayed at school. I miss being able to participate in the March, standing up for what I believe. I have very specific reasons for believing in life, but I don't really want to go into them here on my blog, as they are incredibly personal. I just want to say that, well, I believe in life and I believe in choice. If you don't want a baby, make the choice not to make one. I know how hard that can be in a committed relationship, but once you are pregnant, you aren't just deciding what to do with your body, but with someone else's body as well, and that choice is not yours to make. I believe in life and choice, but when the two clash, I have to choose life.
I used to love a good debate, but anymore, I can't debate this one. It hurts me too much to even think about those little babies, their tiny souls and lives taken away with the suck of a vacuum. How do the doctors live with themselves, piecing back together those tiny bodies to make sure they didn't leave an arm, a leg, or maybe an ear in the mother's womb? I want to know how a woman can see that baby wiggling around on an ultrasound and still have the guts to destroy it. I read a very good book, "Unplanned" by Abby Johnson, and I recommend it to anyone. It walks very closely with Ms. Johnson through her switch to the pro-life side of the debate... from her original position as a director at Planned Parenthood.
I'm rambling a bit, but I just wanted to post a little something today. There are always choices, choices that are better than killing the tiny baby you carry. Give it up for adoption or keep it. Take it from someone who knows: somebody wants that little one.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
When Life Gives You the Middle Finger....
Well. Sometimes life doesn't work out like you want it to work out. And while it's tempting to give the finger back and scream, "SCREW YOU!!!!!!!!!" this attitude generally doesn't get you anywhere... except maybe in trouble. So.
The last month and a half of my life has been half-Hell, half-Heaven. I suppose I'm in Purgatory. I'm not sure exactly why I'm being punished, although I could take some good guesses. I'm a good girl. Sometimes. And I'm trying to be better.
Anyway, you know Peter, the love of my life, my soldier boy who I was going to spend the rest of my life with and be happy with forever? Well, he dumped me in December. Three weeks away from getting engaged, ring and all, we had registries and everything, and he turned tail and ran. Said he "couldn't do it anymore," that he "had nothing left to give." While I personally think that's a load of bull, I had no choice in the matter. He is gone... and this time, I don't think he's coming back. We've talked some since then, but I get accused of being crazy and attacking him, and now he has unfriended me and is ignoring me. It's killing me. Every night I go to bed and I can just feel his arms around me. I dream about us, about our relationship, about our future... and then I wake up and realize that everything I loved and believed in was a lie. This has been the Hell part of the past month and a half. I would do anything to get him back. Anything to be happy and in love again, to put this behind us, get married, and be together forever. But I must have done some pretty bad crap and be in the lowest level of Purgatory, because even though the desire is there, my anger and hurt has gotten in the way and destroyed pretty much any hope there ever was that we would get back together. Have I attacked? Yes. Have I said hurtful things? Yes. I called him a coward. And a child. And honestly, running away from your commitments just because you're going through a rough time is cowardly. It's what Glenda and Grammy and everybody like that did. It's what I've done and sworn I would never do again. But I didn't need to say it so brutally... or so frequently. I want him in my arms again.
There has been a (sorta) bright side to this. That being that I've been home for over a month, the longest I've been home since I left for college in August of 2010. I'm living with my parents, taking a semester off of college, and rediscovering some of the best relationships of my life, relationships that never really went anywhere but faded into the background a little bit. The most prominent of these (besides my family - my brothers and I get along better now than we have in years) are Miss Alicia, Madame, Jess, and Sarah (Haines) Smith. I've started dancing with Miss Alicia again, and I've discovered that I'm at my best and my happiest when I'm focusing nonstop on beating my body into dancing shape. But more than that, when I'm at the studio and with Miss Alicia, the conversation picks up like I never went anywhere. She doesn't judge me, she understands needing to reroute your life when stuff like this happens. She supports me, and I don't know what I'd do without her on my side right now. Madame is another great lady and amazing friend who has made this a billion times easier. We've spent a good deal of time together in the past three weeks, and she is full of wisdom and support. She doesn't judge me either, she is supporting me, helping me look for a job, when she sees I'm upset, she does crazy things to help make it better. Her smile is infectious, and I can't help feeling happier when I'm around her. I swear she's an angel.
The other two are Jessie (and her adorable baby, my nephew Aiden!) and Sarah. Two of my friends who didn't go off to college, they're around and just as bored as I am most of the time, haha, and so we've spent a lot of time together too. I wonder why I never bothered to spend more time with them before... I regret that to a degree, but I also think we probably couldn't have been as close then. We would've killed each other! I was too much of a drama queen (I know, I still am... believe it or not, I've done my best to get rid of a lot of drama)... it would've driven them nuts.
So that's life. I miss Peter more than I can possibly say. I want to scream and cry and hit him and hold him and kiss him and love him all at the same time. I'm dancing and singing here at home, looking for a job (if you know of any nearby, PLEASE let me know!), fostering some very deep friendships that have needed fostering for awhile, and hoping and praying I'll make enough money to go to France in the spring.
Oh, yeah! France! I'm trying to get in with a program to be a live-in English tutor in France for two months. It's in a little city called Montpellier on the Mediterranean, and it would be the perfect job for me! So we'll see what happens.
The other thing that's been happening is (despite the title and volatile nature of most of this post) is that I've been doing my best to get closer to God. Going to mass every Sunday instead of making excuses (yes, I confessed it). Singing in mass sometimes, going to Great Adventure again, doing devotions every day, and in general, doing my best to grow as close to the heart of God as possible. I know he has a plan for me, and as much as this hurts right now, eventually I'll understand why, and something good will come of it. Maybe it will be something as simple - and crucial - as a closer walk with God. Maybe God brought Peter and me together so he could help me make the decision to be Catholic. Maybe more. The one thing I know for certain is that this is not the end of the road for me, and as much as it feels like it won't sometimes, the sun will still rise in the morning, and tomorrow will be another day. If tomorrow is crappy, well, the sun will set again and rise the next morning, giving me another chance to be better still. And so it goes. With God's strength, I will prevail.
The last month and a half of my life has been half-Hell, half-Heaven. I suppose I'm in Purgatory. I'm not sure exactly why I'm being punished, although I could take some good guesses. I'm a good girl. Sometimes. And I'm trying to be better.
Anyway, you know Peter, the love of my life, my soldier boy who I was going to spend the rest of my life with and be happy with forever? Well, he dumped me in December. Three weeks away from getting engaged, ring and all, we had registries and everything, and he turned tail and ran. Said he "couldn't do it anymore," that he "had nothing left to give." While I personally think that's a load of bull, I had no choice in the matter. He is gone... and this time, I don't think he's coming back. We've talked some since then, but I get accused of being crazy and attacking him, and now he has unfriended me and is ignoring me. It's killing me. Every night I go to bed and I can just feel his arms around me. I dream about us, about our relationship, about our future... and then I wake up and realize that everything I loved and believed in was a lie. This has been the Hell part of the past month and a half. I would do anything to get him back. Anything to be happy and in love again, to put this behind us, get married, and be together forever. But I must have done some pretty bad crap and be in the lowest level of Purgatory, because even though the desire is there, my anger and hurt has gotten in the way and destroyed pretty much any hope there ever was that we would get back together. Have I attacked? Yes. Have I said hurtful things? Yes. I called him a coward. And a child. And honestly, running away from your commitments just because you're going through a rough time is cowardly. It's what Glenda and Grammy and everybody like that did. It's what I've done and sworn I would never do again. But I didn't need to say it so brutally... or so frequently. I want him in my arms again.
There has been a (sorta) bright side to this. That being that I've been home for over a month, the longest I've been home since I left for college in August of 2010. I'm living with my parents, taking a semester off of college, and rediscovering some of the best relationships of my life, relationships that never really went anywhere but faded into the background a little bit. The most prominent of these (besides my family - my brothers and I get along better now than we have in years) are Miss Alicia, Madame, Jess, and Sarah (Haines) Smith. I've started dancing with Miss Alicia again, and I've discovered that I'm at my best and my happiest when I'm focusing nonstop on beating my body into dancing shape. But more than that, when I'm at the studio and with Miss Alicia, the conversation picks up like I never went anywhere. She doesn't judge me, she understands needing to reroute your life when stuff like this happens. She supports me, and I don't know what I'd do without her on my side right now. Madame is another great lady and amazing friend who has made this a billion times easier. We've spent a good deal of time together in the past three weeks, and she is full of wisdom and support. She doesn't judge me either, she is supporting me, helping me look for a job, when she sees I'm upset, she does crazy things to help make it better. Her smile is infectious, and I can't help feeling happier when I'm around her. I swear she's an angel.
The other two are Jessie (and her adorable baby, my nephew Aiden!) and Sarah. Two of my friends who didn't go off to college, they're around and just as bored as I am most of the time, haha, and so we've spent a lot of time together too. I wonder why I never bothered to spend more time with them before... I regret that to a degree, but I also think we probably couldn't have been as close then. We would've killed each other! I was too much of a drama queen (I know, I still am... believe it or not, I've done my best to get rid of a lot of drama)... it would've driven them nuts.
So that's life. I miss Peter more than I can possibly say. I want to scream and cry and hit him and hold him and kiss him and love him all at the same time. I'm dancing and singing here at home, looking for a job (if you know of any nearby, PLEASE let me know!), fostering some very deep friendships that have needed fostering for awhile, and hoping and praying I'll make enough money to go to France in the spring.
Oh, yeah! France! I'm trying to get in with a program to be a live-in English tutor in France for two months. It's in a little city called Montpellier on the Mediterranean, and it would be the perfect job for me! So we'll see what happens.
The other thing that's been happening is (despite the title and volatile nature of most of this post) is that I've been doing my best to get closer to God. Going to mass every Sunday instead of making excuses (yes, I confessed it). Singing in mass sometimes, going to Great Adventure again, doing devotions every day, and in general, doing my best to grow as close to the heart of God as possible. I know he has a plan for me, and as much as this hurts right now, eventually I'll understand why, and something good will come of it. Maybe it will be something as simple - and crucial - as a closer walk with God. Maybe God brought Peter and me together so he could help me make the decision to be Catholic. Maybe more. The one thing I know for certain is that this is not the end of the road for me, and as much as it feels like it won't sometimes, the sun will still rise in the morning, and tomorrow will be another day. If tomorrow is crappy, well, the sun will set again and rise the next morning, giving me another chance to be better still. And so it goes. With God's strength, I will prevail.
Sunday, October 02, 2011
Family Ties (Warning - May Get Cocky and -ahem- Biological)
Somebody tell me - convince me - that it is smart to go against years and years (centuries, really, millennia) of traditions, of family roles, of living, of doing what we're made to do so that women can be "equal" to men, and young couples who dream of getting married and living life together, having a family together, come across as total morons and should be readily shut down.
Go ahead, try to convince me. I suppose I am, to a degree, an anti-feminist. I'm fully aware that I am just as good as those members of society with penises, but obviously, I'm not one of them! I was made to do something different. Now, I'm nineteen years old, okay? I'm not an aged, wizened old woman trying to reach the world and keep things from changing... I'm part woman, part kid who is trying to figure out what on earth is going on with this crappy world. But I'm pretty sure that I wasn't made to deny my instincts, to turn away from what my heart obviously craves and desires, even needs. Fifty years ago, if a young woman my age thought the way I do... well, she's be idolized by every older relative she had, and they'd be so proud of their mature young woman, off to marry and raise a family of her own, playing her role in society. Today? Not the case. Today, everyone apparently knows better than to waste precious time on a spouse and children, everyone knows that the most important thing in life is to get a degree and work until you die, discovering "yourself" and denying that billions of children are being raised by daycares, or in two different households at the same time, never knowing where they'll be thrown next.
Everyone tells me I'm too young, I'm not mature enough. Well, let me tell you something. I'm not always mature, I can admit that easily. But go spend an hour or two at the grocery store. Observe people at a park. I would put money on the fact that you'll find some mother screaming at her child because the child is misbehaving and perhaps the mother is feeling some immaturity and just can't handle it. She could be forty years old. You can go sit on a bench on a city street, you'll see adults flicking each other off when one idiotic city driver pulls out in front of another. You'll see grown people walk past homeless people - the ones that, when you've lived around them long enough, you can tell are real and not just out for drug money - and you can watch a college student slip a bill or two to them, or even pull them up and buy them dinner. Who is more mature, the investment banker who walked past the homeless man with a sneer on his face, or the college kid who picked him up and dusted him off? Who is more mature, the Wall Street mother who leaves her kid alone to throw temper tantrums because they're alone and toys can only do so much, or the nanny who shows that kid what it's like to be loved?
Now, I'm not knocking people who have higher-up jobs, I'm just trying to make a point. If you spend your life devoted to your money, to the way you think society wants you to be, you'll end up with a pile of anguish and regret. I don't want that. I will have regrets, I know that. Because let me tell you something, it is impossible to live life without one single regret. I have a ton already, at nineteen. But falling in love and planning to spend the rest of my life with the most amazing person I have ever met is not one of them. Going to college for a degree that might not come to fruition the way I expect, but that makes me happy and gives me a place to be me? Definitely not a regret. Trying to live my life the way I think it should be lived? Not a regret.
I'm not saying I'm perfect. Writing a blog about others' maturity levels... probably not my most mature moment. But I can't shake the feeling that no matter what I do, I'm never going to measure up to society, and if this is what I'm being compared to... then I don't WANT to measure up. I want to go about my life, doing my best to live what God's set out for me. If that means getting married at 22... bring it, baby! If that means I don't hit Broadway... well, yes, that will be a bitter pill to swallow, but I'll bet God will make it worthwhile if I let Him. See, the thing is, everybody seems to think that one thing or another will make them happy, will keep them from ever being miserable again. "If I make enough money," "If I get liposuction one more time," "If I put off having kids until AFTER I have a career...."
Stop criticizing me. Stop telling me I'm making the wrong decisions. I'm not doing drugs, I'm not drinking away my weekends like 3/4 of the college students that you (by some freaky twist of fate) are actually proud of. I'm not spending my whole life striving for something I'll never reach, because I know that I can reach what I'm meant to. Stop telling me I'm living my life wrong. It's not that I'm living it "wrong," I'm just not living it your way. But it isn't yours to live, end of story. If it was, my name wouldn't be Jade. It would be something else.
And you know what? To all of my dear friends out there who have decided that climbing the corporate ladder isn't for you: good for you. One of the sweetest, happiest, most God-like women that I know is a stay-at-home mom with four kids who couldn't be happier and more content. And I strive to be like her. I strive to be like my mom, who opened her shop to fulfill one of her dreams, and who still puts her kids first. I strive to be like Madame, who goes absolutely crazy running around doing stuff for other people, who is always there when I need someone.
When I'm forty, fifty years old, I don't want to look back with regrets. So guess what... I'm not going to sit here and deliberately create them for myself. And if I slow down, if I wait, if I "get my education," "have my career first," I'm going to do just that, and I refuse. Enjoy your life and your career. I will love having my family and waking up every day excited to see where it might take me.
Go ahead, try to convince me. I suppose I am, to a degree, an anti-feminist. I'm fully aware that I am just as good as those members of society with penises, but obviously, I'm not one of them! I was made to do something different. Now, I'm nineteen years old, okay? I'm not an aged, wizened old woman trying to reach the world and keep things from changing... I'm part woman, part kid who is trying to figure out what on earth is going on with this crappy world. But I'm pretty sure that I wasn't made to deny my instincts, to turn away from what my heart obviously craves and desires, even needs. Fifty years ago, if a young woman my age thought the way I do... well, she's be idolized by every older relative she had, and they'd be so proud of their mature young woman, off to marry and raise a family of her own, playing her role in society. Today? Not the case. Today, everyone apparently knows better than to waste precious time on a spouse and children, everyone knows that the most important thing in life is to get a degree and work until you die, discovering "yourself" and denying that billions of children are being raised by daycares, or in two different households at the same time, never knowing where they'll be thrown next.
Everyone tells me I'm too young, I'm not mature enough. Well, let me tell you something. I'm not always mature, I can admit that easily. But go spend an hour or two at the grocery store. Observe people at a park. I would put money on the fact that you'll find some mother screaming at her child because the child is misbehaving and perhaps the mother is feeling some immaturity and just can't handle it. She could be forty years old. You can go sit on a bench on a city street, you'll see adults flicking each other off when one idiotic city driver pulls out in front of another. You'll see grown people walk past homeless people - the ones that, when you've lived around them long enough, you can tell are real and not just out for drug money - and you can watch a college student slip a bill or two to them, or even pull them up and buy them dinner. Who is more mature, the investment banker who walked past the homeless man with a sneer on his face, or the college kid who picked him up and dusted him off? Who is more mature, the Wall Street mother who leaves her kid alone to throw temper tantrums because they're alone and toys can only do so much, or the nanny who shows that kid what it's like to be loved?
Now, I'm not knocking people who have higher-up jobs, I'm just trying to make a point. If you spend your life devoted to your money, to the way you think society wants you to be, you'll end up with a pile of anguish and regret. I don't want that. I will have regrets, I know that. Because let me tell you something, it is impossible to live life without one single regret. I have a ton already, at nineteen. But falling in love and planning to spend the rest of my life with the most amazing person I have ever met is not one of them. Going to college for a degree that might not come to fruition the way I expect, but that makes me happy and gives me a place to be me? Definitely not a regret. Trying to live my life the way I think it should be lived? Not a regret.
I'm not saying I'm perfect. Writing a blog about others' maturity levels... probably not my most mature moment. But I can't shake the feeling that no matter what I do, I'm never going to measure up to society, and if this is what I'm being compared to... then I don't WANT to measure up. I want to go about my life, doing my best to live what God's set out for me. If that means getting married at 22... bring it, baby! If that means I don't hit Broadway... well, yes, that will be a bitter pill to swallow, but I'll bet God will make it worthwhile if I let Him. See, the thing is, everybody seems to think that one thing or another will make them happy, will keep them from ever being miserable again. "If I make enough money," "If I get liposuction one more time," "If I put off having kids until AFTER I have a career...."
Stop criticizing me. Stop telling me I'm making the wrong decisions. I'm not doing drugs, I'm not drinking away my weekends like 3/4 of the college students that you (by some freaky twist of fate) are actually proud of. I'm not spending my whole life striving for something I'll never reach, because I know that I can reach what I'm meant to. Stop telling me I'm living my life wrong. It's not that I'm living it "wrong," I'm just not living it your way. But it isn't yours to live, end of story. If it was, my name wouldn't be Jade. It would be something else.
And you know what? To all of my dear friends out there who have decided that climbing the corporate ladder isn't for you: good for you. One of the sweetest, happiest, most God-like women that I know is a stay-at-home mom with four kids who couldn't be happier and more content. And I strive to be like her. I strive to be like my mom, who opened her shop to fulfill one of her dreams, and who still puts her kids first. I strive to be like Madame, who goes absolutely crazy running around doing stuff for other people, who is always there when I need someone.
When I'm forty, fifty years old, I don't want to look back with regrets. So guess what... I'm not going to sit here and deliberately create them for myself. And if I slow down, if I wait, if I "get my education," "have my career first," I'm going to do just that, and I refuse. Enjoy your life and your career. I will love having my family and waking up every day excited to see where it might take me.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Catching Up
Hello Everybody! So, it's been almost a year since I've written anything at all... in a diary or a blog. Oy. I'm a little surprised that my drama queen tendencies haven't caused me to explode in all that time, haha. But they haven't! And here I am, drama and all, still ready to take on the world... provided someone gives me the chance!
So, here's a little recap of what's happened since I last wrote:
- I finished my freshman year with a 3.65 GPA, which led to me being invited into Phi something something... the freshmen honor society. :) I have accepted, the initiation ceremony is late in October!
- I stayed in D.C. over the summer and took a World Religions class, which I loved, and worked... which I loved not quite so much. I worked at L'Occitane, a French skincare boutique, which was really cool, and met some neat people, but as things got crazier and crazier, I realized there was no way I could possibly do work (with an hour and a half commute both ways) and 20 credits of classes at the same time, it probably would have killed me. So here I am, once again gainfully unemployed (well, I have work study, but nothing else) and going nuts with 20 music school credits - which are, by the way, totally different from regular credits. You'd think a one credit course would result in one hour of class per week, right? Not so in a conservatory setting. My dance classes are one credit each, and I have two of them... I dance five hours a week. Yep.
- I managed to complete and pay for an entire degree. I have my certification in Bridal Consulting. I'm not really planning to go crazy starting a business right now, but would love to gain experience, so if you plan to get married in either the DC or Central PA areas, please feel free to contact me! For a limited time (aka until I graduate and move away), I'm going to be doing virtually free bridal consulting. I may charge a small fee, but it'll be at about 1/10 the price you'd usually be charged.
- Speaking of things I charge for... I'm also doing photography! Same general idea, I'm not charging a ton ($15/hr plus travel expenses), not really opening a full-blown business, just something I love doing and I'm somewhat good at. I have a website (www.jadearwenphotography.webs.com), and you can also like my facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jade-Arwen-Photography/185692428131369). I did a wedding this summer and have another one in November, and I'm super excited about it!
- Peter and I are amazing. I love him way more than I ever thought I would, and I can't wait to see where life takes us!
- I've gotten to a point where what people think doesn't really matter... because those of you who really know me realize that I'm not a crazy psycho-b****. And those who think I am really should get to know me a little better! At least before you go around spreading stuff and making life difficult for me.
Umm... I think that may be about it! Lol, I'm sure I'll come up with more. I made the advanced choir and passed my French interview, allowing me to access the top levels, which is great, but proving to be quite the challenge! That's life for now... let's see if I can get back into this whole blogging thing. ;)
So, here's a little recap of what's happened since I last wrote:
- I finished my freshman year with a 3.65 GPA, which led to me being invited into Phi something something... the freshmen honor society. :) I have accepted, the initiation ceremony is late in October!
- I stayed in D.C. over the summer and took a World Religions class, which I loved, and worked... which I loved not quite so much. I worked at L'Occitane, a French skincare boutique, which was really cool, and met some neat people, but as things got crazier and crazier, I realized there was no way I could possibly do work (with an hour and a half commute both ways) and 20 credits of classes at the same time, it probably would have killed me. So here I am, once again gainfully unemployed (well, I have work study, but nothing else) and going nuts with 20 music school credits - which are, by the way, totally different from regular credits. You'd think a one credit course would result in one hour of class per week, right? Not so in a conservatory setting. My dance classes are one credit each, and I have two of them... I dance five hours a week. Yep.
- I managed to complete and pay for an entire degree. I have my certification in Bridal Consulting. I'm not really planning to go crazy starting a business right now, but would love to gain experience, so if you plan to get married in either the DC or Central PA areas, please feel free to contact me! For a limited time (aka until I graduate and move away), I'm going to be doing virtually free bridal consulting. I may charge a small fee, but it'll be at about 1/10 the price you'd usually be charged.
- Speaking of things I charge for... I'm also doing photography! Same general idea, I'm not charging a ton ($15/hr plus travel expenses), not really opening a full-blown business, just something I love doing and I'm somewhat good at. I have a website (www.jadearwenphotography.webs.com), and you can also like my facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jade-Arwen-Photography/185692428131369). I did a wedding this summer and have another one in November, and I'm super excited about it!
- Peter and I are amazing. I love him way more than I ever thought I would, and I can't wait to see where life takes us!
- I've gotten to a point where what people think doesn't really matter... because those of you who really know me realize that I'm not a crazy psycho-b****. And those who think I am really should get to know me a little better! At least before you go around spreading stuff and making life difficult for me.
Umm... I think that may be about it! Lol, I'm sure I'll come up with more. I made the advanced choir and passed my French interview, allowing me to access the top levels, which is great, but proving to be quite the challenge! That's life for now... let's see if I can get back into this whole blogging thing. ;)
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
May I just mention that I have the most amazing boy in the entire world? It's Christmas break (a real break, I don't have any work to do!), and we've spent almost every day together... it's been glorious! We talk, we laugh... on Sunday we went to see Tangled, which was hilarious! I love him... 'kay, that's all. I probably won't write again before Christmas, so if anyone actually reads this... Merry Christmas!! :D
Monday, December 13, 2010
Sooo... first solo CUA performance in, like, 5 minutes! Jinkies! I had a choir concert at the beginning of the month, but this will be my first performance I just kinda put out there... I'm not gonna lie, I'm a little nervous. All of the "big people" will be there, haha... aka the profs and the upperclassmen. And I know it's not high school, but I'm still incredibly anxiety-ridden. Ugh. But it shall be glorious, I'm sure. :P Wish me luck!
Monday, November 29, 2010
The new Christmas design of my blog is out! You know what that means... 'tis the season! I've been signing Christmas cards, making wish lists, and Peter and I are going Christmas shopping for our families' joint gifts this weekend. I've got Christmas music playing in the background as I type this, and I want more than anything to go get a Christmas tree and some lights to hang around! I love Christmas. :)
I kinda thought it would be more intense being in the city... but I haven't been out and about since Thanksgiving break yet! I'm so totally going to check out the gardens at the Smithsonian (which are apparently spectacular), and Flather's lobby is decorated. It's great! I love Christmas. :D
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Ramblings
I'm sitting here talking to Mommy on Skype and waiting for Dad to get home from a board meeting (it's taking bloody forever!), so I figured I might as well ramble a bit while I'm here.
I'm sitting out in the hall because my roommate is studying. This whole roommate thing? I'm really not a huge fan... I miss being able to do whatever I want whenever I want in my own space. But oh, well... c'est la vie!
So I'm sitting in the hall talking to Momma and eating shrimp chow mein and thinking about my paper that needs written and coming home this weekend. :)
I can't wait to see my girls!! It has been waaaay too long since I've had a decent talk with my girlies (although heaven only knows Facebook has seen a deadly increase in chat drama over the past two months). I can't wait to go to Sheetz again... gosh, I miss that place! I can't believe there are no Sheetz's in DC. Seriously. Of all the things not to have... they have Wawa's, but no Sheetz. :\
I can't wait to see everyone, really. Kate and Jess and Sarah tomorrow, Sarah Haines and her baby on Saturday, Peter's family, my family, Madame... soooo many people!! :D I miss them all lots and lots, and I can't wait to be home again. I can't wait to sit down at my piano and not having to drown out any opera divas (well... except myself). I can't wait to drive again....
It's gonna be strange, though, being home. CUA isn't quite "home," but neither is Mifflinburg anymore. It's an odd position to be in, one I'm not entirely sure how to handle. But oh, well. That's why this is a "transition," I suppose, and an "adventure."
PS: The second anniversary of Peter's and my first homecoming dance is Sunday. Woot! :D
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