For me, mourning a death is one of the most selfish acts I'll ever commit.
On Saturday, the Captain and I attended a funeral for one of his college friends. Her name was Nichole. I won't sully her memory by giving her some silly nickname to protect her identity. I want you to know her name, and I want you to know our short story.
When I first met Nichole, the Captain and I had been dating for about a month. There were plenty of incredibly bright, friendly, and welcoming faces in the kitchen, but I was immediately drawn to Nichole. I sat down next to her with a drink in my hand and wracked my brain for things to say to her, desperate, for whatever reason, for this woman to take a similar interest in me. Through the course of the conversation, guided mostly by the other women at the table, I eventually came to learn she'd traveled abroad to England, and that she was returning there for her overdue honeymoon. This gave us plenty to discuss, and if there was ever a lull in the conversation at the table, I could turn to her and we'd get to chit-chatting again. I pegged her as a quick-witted, hilarious, and kind person.
Over the course of the next six months, the Captain and I would talk about her on occasion. I'd ask how she was doing, and in my naive little mind I just always imagined that she was getting better. I imagined that once she beat this bitch of a disease, I would be able to start scheduling girls nights and all the girls I had met through the Captain could drink wine and watch crappy TV, and gossip and laugh and connect.
Sometimes I'm a real putz.
When Nichole was admitted to the hospital, I was shocked. The Captain had just told me that her white blood cell count was up, what was it, two or three weeks ago? I met him after work and I immediately changed his plans so we could visit her. I bought her a card, and I waffled for hours over what to say. I wanted to tell her it wasn't fair, that I shouldn't have been waiting for her to get better to start our friendship. I should have just called her up, texted her, sent her a Facebook message. Anything. But I couldn't say these things to her. It felt self-centered and heartless to be having a pity party in the face of a young woman who had lost the battle with cancer.
My regret over my actions (or lack thereof) came surging back during her husband's eulogy. He told their beautiful and tragic story, and I found myself laughing between fits of tears. I wanted so badly to know the woman Nichole had been; the loving wife, the perfect sister, the loyal friend, the treasured daughter, the determined fighter. Listening to his story, and the stories of her friends that braved the podium, I learned that she was beautiful, inside and out, and the epitome of everything I strive to be for myself and for the people around me.
I can count on one hand the amount of times I saw Nicole since I met her, and somehow, she managed to take a piece of my heart with her when she left. At her funeral, I felt ridiculous crying alongside the people who had known her for years, built memories with her, loved her, and would ache over her loss for the rest of their lives. I felt like I didn't have the right to be so utterly heartbroken. But I was. And I am. Outside of my own selfish reasons, my heart is in pieces for her family and her friends, all the men and women who I now call my friends.
Somehow, after the service, we managed to be in good spirits. We ate lunch. We gathered at a family member's house down the street from the funeral home. We told stories. We found ways to laugh together. We felt peace, knowing that what her husband said was true, that we are better, our lives are better, because Nichole chose to share hers with us.
29 September, 2014
12 January, 2014
What's the Scoop? (1:12)
It just occurred to me that I'm eventually going to have to change the name of these blog posts to something a little more creative. What I'll probably end up with is, "The Stupid Shit That (insert news site [most likely "CNN"] here) Said This Week." For this week though, I'll just go with the same old, "What's the scoop?" with the assumed answer of "poop!"
I'm not sure if you guys heard, but it was really cold this past week. So cold, in fact, that it made the news almost every single day, and by the end of the week, CNN was telling people how dumb they are. (Which is ironic, considering how dumb the writers of CNN can be.) I guess I just find it hilarious that CNN used up space on their website to say, "Yes, it's pretty cold, and you're also pretty stupid."
I think the most frustrating part of this week were those really dumb people who believe that this polar vortex has disproved the theory of global warming. Which, really, how is this still considered a theory? To the point, three days of frigid cold is nothing compared to the string of sweltering hot temperatures we suffered through last summer for weeks on end. Whether or not you want to believe it, our climate is changing. It is a well-documented and heavily researched phenomenon spanning decades, and it will not be disputed and discounted by hordes of uneducated people who believe Neil/Lance Armstrong never landed on the moon. People must understand that "the occasional cold snap [...] doesn't change the overall trajectory of a warming planet. Weather is what happens in the atmosphere day to day; climate is how the atmosphere behaves over long periods of time."
Interestingly enough, TIME magazine actually believes the polar vortex might have helped prove the theory of global warming. They speculate, amongst lots of big meteorological words and other compelling arguments, that the changes in our climate made it possible for the polar vortex to travel far enough south to reach us. TIME does confess that this is a very new idea, and it will take a bit more research to prove this theory.
One last thing, and then I'll stop talking about the weather -- which is something we have somehow managed to move beyond the realm of "small talk," but just for this week.
Did you know that while we were freezing our asses off over here, some pretty serious happenings were taking place elsewhere? Take Australia, for example, where 100,000 bats fell straight out of the sky because of 110 degree temperatures. According to bat specialist Louise Saunders, bats cannot survive temperatures of more than 109 degrees. Between the two events, I'm glad I was in America and not Australia. Bats are adorable, and I have no interest in seeing that happen first-hand.
Fun fact: Did you know that only two percent of the entire world was affected by the polar vortex? Two! That's not a lot. For those of you who like visuals, here is a body builder with 2% body fat:
 |
| Okay, you caught me. This image clearly says 3-4%. I couldn't find exactly 2%. The point is, can YOU spot the fat? No? Yeah, me either. |
- Did you know that in some places you can be arrested for publicly insulting your nation's leader? This guy called the President of Zambia a sweet potato and was arrested the next day. Really, he could have said a lot worse than that.
- This guy stole a banana from a gas station. He also crashed his car into it. And then he left, apparently satisfied with his incredible theft.
- Man kills stepfather. You know, the regular way, by giving him an atomic wedgie.
- This article about the detrimental effects that lack of sleep can have on you does not fall under the category of "articles that made me giggle" this week. But it was very insightful and worth my time to read.
- Fashion editors are taking a step in the right direction and photoshopping meat onto the bones of dangerously skinny women. Then again, they wouldn't have to go through all that extra work if they'd just encourage their models to eat regularly.
Sources
05 January, 2014
What's the Scoop? (1:05)
This week I want to focus on one of my favorite people out in the world, Pope Francis.
I am all "amen" and "hallelujah" this week over Pope Francis beginning the revolution of Catholicism. This is not to say that he is reinterpreting the Bible or the teachings of Jesus. He is just taking a very liberal approach toward some of the most controversial issues in the world to date. Seriously, this guy says the darndest things! For example, "If someone is gay and he searches for the Lord and has good will, who am I to judge?" and "All religions are true, because they are true in the hearts of those who believe in them."
Because I am completely devoid of any religious affiliation, I can't even fathom how the Catholics are responding to these radical views coming from the mouth of their spokesperson. Having followed his actions pretty closely the past week, from what I understand, the reaction has been pretty positive. My mother was raised Catholic, and having attended more than a few Catholic services in my time, it's hard for me to speak very positively about the way the faith is taught. Instead of telling people that they are sinners, the Pope has turned the focus on all the good that we do as people, which I think is something that needed to happen.
Of course, not everyone is happy with our forward-thinking liberal pontiff. Pat Buchanan has his head sideways up his own ass. I'm sorry, I dislike the man so much that I'm not going to bother trying to please my mother by keeping my swearing to a minimum. (I love you, Mama.)
While reading an article about the Pope's consideration of awarding Paul Walker with sainthood (really?), I had to stop to look up who Pat Buchanan is because all I kept thinking was, "Who the **** is this ******* ass hole?" He's quoted to have said some really naive things, like accusing the Pope's teachings of being "totally wrong - I mean dramatically, embarrassingly, puzzlingly wrong." First of all, you just made up a word. Second of all, you are all that is dramatically embarrassing and puzzling about our society. Pope Francis is showing Catholics, and all people of all religious affiliations the world over that tolerance, love, acceptance, peace, and all those other feel-good intangibles are the only acceptable states of mind. Isn't that what Jesus taught us? Love thy neighbor and all that?
While the Pope's overall message is to promote tolerance, everything he says is still in line with the church's beliefs on homosexuality, abortion, and other controversial issues. He is not guilty of saying insufferably ridiculous and pigheaded things like, "Compared to all this liberal social justice nonsense—which is not the kind of thing Americans expect from a Christian leader like Pope Francis—canonizing Paul Walker is much more agreeable. Mr. Walker was a hard-working, hard-driving personification of our country’s values: blond-haired, blue-eyed, and a millionaire. That’s as American as apple pie."
Excuse me? Liberal social justice nonsense? And how about your insulting (and racist) depiction of why Paul Walker is a good candidate for sainthood? I could just punch you, Pat Buchanan. But I won't, because I wouldn't want to disappoint the Pope. Really, though, I can't stand you.
 |
| "Look how old and cute I am!" |
Because I am completely devoid of any religious affiliation, I can't even fathom how the Catholics are responding to these radical views coming from the mouth of their spokesperson. Having followed his actions pretty closely the past week, from what I understand, the reaction has been pretty positive. My mother was raised Catholic, and having attended more than a few Catholic services in my time, it's hard for me to speak very positively about the way the faith is taught. Instead of telling people that they are sinners, the Pope has turned the focus on all the good that we do as people, which I think is something that needed to happen.
Of course, not everyone is happy with our forward-thinking liberal pontiff. Pat Buchanan has his head sideways up his own ass. I'm sorry, I dislike the man so much that I'm not going to bother trying to please my mother by keeping my swearing to a minimum. (I love you, Mama.)
While reading an article about the Pope's consideration of awarding Paul Walker with sainthood (really?), I had to stop to look up who Pat Buchanan is because all I kept thinking was, "Who the **** is this ******* ass hole?" He's quoted to have said some really naive things, like accusing the Pope's teachings of being "totally wrong - I mean dramatically, embarrassingly, puzzlingly wrong." First of all, you just made up a word. Second of all, you are all that is dramatically embarrassing and puzzling about our society. Pope Francis is showing Catholics, and all people of all religious affiliations the world over that tolerance, love, acceptance, peace, and all those other feel-good intangibles are the only acceptable states of mind. Isn't that what Jesus taught us? Love thy neighbor and all that?While the Pope's overall message is to promote tolerance, everything he says is still in line with the church's beliefs on homosexuality, abortion, and other controversial issues. He is not guilty of saying insufferably ridiculous and pigheaded things like, "Compared to all this liberal social justice nonsense—which is not the kind of thing Americans expect from a Christian leader like Pope Francis—canonizing Paul Walker is much more agreeable. Mr. Walker was a hard-working, hard-driving personification of our country’s values: blond-haired, blue-eyed, and a millionaire. That’s as American as apple pie."
Excuse me? Liberal social justice nonsense? And how about your insulting (and racist) depiction of why Paul Walker is a good candidate for sainthood? I could just punch you, Pat Buchanan. But I won't, because I wouldn't want to disappoint the Pope. Really, though, I can't stand you.
Sources
http://diversitychronicle.wordpress.com/2013/12/05/pope-francis-condemns-racism-and-declares-that-all-religions-are-true-at-historic-third-vatican-council/
http://themetapicture.com/finally-a-pope-that-acts-like-a-pope/
http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2014/01/04/the-social-minded-pope-francis-is-a-very-different-kind-of-pontiff.html
http://guardianlv.com/2014/01/paul-walker-to-be-canonized-by-liberal-new-pope-francis/
http://themetapicture.com/finally-a-pope-that-acts-like-a-pope/
http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2014/01/04/the-social-minded-pope-francis-is-a-very-different-kind-of-pontiff.html
http://guardianlv.com/2014/01/paul-walker-to-be-canonized-by-liberal-new-pope-francis/
22 December, 2013
What's the Scoop? (12:22)
Before I begin, I have to apologize. I didn't do a very good job keeping up with the news this week. I usually check the news on my lunch break, but this week I didn't take too many of those because of the busy holiday season. However, I think I caught some of the bigger stories, so here I am to throw my opinion in with those of PolicyMic, TIME, The New York Times, CNN, and Fox News.
I believe in this woman's approach, which, much like Phil's statement post-GQ, is "agree to disagree." What's kind of depressing is that sometimes the LGBT activists turn around and meet the word "f**" (I can't even type it) with "zealot" or "bigot," or some other equally hateful word...or string of words. If you want an example, look in the comments section for "JesusWasABrownGuy," who has some particularly intolerant things to say about Phil, and all Christians for that matter. I feel like it doesn't happen very often, at least a lot less often than gay hating, but it needs to not happen at all. You can't win a war against hate by being hypocritical.
As a continuation from last week, I'd like to share this article entitled, "8 Photos You Didn't See From Obama's Trip to South Africa." Author Nina Ippolito shared my opinion that most major news providers took the wrong approach when writing about Mandela's memorial, as they seemed to focus only on the negatives. Ippolito shed a positive light on selfie-shamed Obama, sharing photos of him spending quality time with George and Laura Bush, and Hilary Clinton on Air Force One on the way to the service, among other important moments.
Also continuing with another of last week's themes, it seems like the government's creative ways of catching terrorists doesn't stop with infiltrating the world of online gaming. Now the National Security Agency is trying to collect data on phone calls. All of them. Every single American phone call is, err, was, being documented. Luckily, it sounds like the NSA is going to be ordered to cease and desist considering this is an incredibly unconstitutional invasion of privacy.
We've come to, what I believe is going to remain, a very rare moment where I am quite proud of CNN. Not only did they write a story that I wanted to read, but they were actually kind of witty when writing their lead of, "Ho ho - huh?" Before I get into the story, I'd like to preface it with a confession: I've said some dumb things. Just this Monday morning, I had this conversation:
Me: Good morning, this is Kelly calling you back from... Oh, God! Where do I work? Chicago Title!
Woman: ... Are you alright? Do I need to hold while you get some coffee?
I've also heard some very dumb things. For example, "What state is Delaware in?"
But to hear about a teacher telling a child, "You can't be Santa because you're black," is so unbelievable that there isn't a word for this degree of stupidity. Fortunately, he did the right thing and reported himself to the principal, and action has been taken. As in, they took the kid out of that teacher's class so the poor little guy doesn't have to put up with him anymore.
Last but not least, I certainly couldn't post this blog without saying something about the recent Duck Dynasty fiasco. While I can't defend Phil's beliefs (because homosexuality isn't a sin), I also understand he's very old fashioned, very Christian, and very crass. Is anyone at A&E actually surprised and shocked? No, they're not. They're just disappointed and embarrassed that they weren't around to censor him when GQ was allegedly speaking with Phil "off the record." Yes, because that has happened. Once. Maybe.
The thing is, while what Phil said was indecent, he also has preached that, "I would never treat anyone with disrespect because they are different from me. We are all created by the Almighty and like Him, I love all of humanity. We would all be better off if we loved God and loved each other." I feel that this Lennon-esque sentiment is a message that should spread throughout the world. Religious or not, racism, sexism, homophobia, and all other forms of oppression are getting us nowhere as a society. It's a ridiculous waste of emotion and energy that holds us back, and causes so much unnecessary unhappiness.
Homophobia has particularly piqued my interest as of late, as it seems to have done around the world with many other millions of people. We are progressing toward a world of tolerance and acceptance, which also means happiness and less violence. Before this, the big pushes were for racial and gender equality (though the argument can't be made that we're completely done), and I wonder what will come after. Hopefully, "after" comes very soon, because I would like to see a whole lot less of this:
 |
| Probably because you were so stupid in life that St. Peter couldn't justify letting you into heaven. |
Then again, sometimes, when I see signs like the one above, I can't help but have the same knee-jerk reaction. Because I also believe in Morgan Freeman's words.
Sources
15 December, 2013
What's the Scoop? (12:15)
This week in the news... there was a lot going on. I know I promised you that I would only bring you inspiring and informative stories, but there haven't been a whole lot that I've come across. However, I can promise a little hilarity and a lot of mind-boggling entertainment.
First of all, I'd just like to say congratulations to CNN, because they've done it again. Last week it was big news that the Pope once held a job as a bouncer, and this week Obama takes a selfie. While I do agree that taking a selfie during the memorial service of Nelson Mandela was tasteless, but still harmless, what CNN had to say about it was pretty stupid.
CNN states, "Nelson Mandela's memorial service Tuesday was supposed to be a once-in-a-lifetime event where dozens of world leaders join thousands of South Africans in a massive stadium, all to honor the anti-apartheid icon. Instead, it turn into a media sensation...about a selfie."
Yes. And bravo, you fueled it by writing your own story about a selfie. I also think you're being a little dramatic. Truly, there is no "supposed to be" about it. The event still took place, and all of our leaders came together to honor the life of a great man. How about, instead of writing about how tragic it is that this once-in-a-lifetime event (which, I can assure you, wasn't completely undone by President Obama's momentary indiscretion [one of my favorite phrases, thank you Kristen Stewart), you write about the actual event?
I wait with baited breath to see what gems you come up with next week.
Somewhere in the USA, where journalists are slightly smarter, there was different news on Mandela's memorial service. Unfortunately, it still wasn't about how wonderful the service was, nor did it at all commemorate South Africa's late and great hero. It was about the jack-ass standing to the left of the speaker who clearly has never learned a lick of sign language.
I read a couple of stories about this, including the account of deaf actress Marlee Matlin. From watching the video, I learned that facial expressions are a huge part of sign language. I watched the video of Thamsanqa Jantjie, the false interpreter, and I did note that his face never changed, and he seemed to be doing the same motions over and over again, maybe with some occasional, slight variances. He also wasn't signing a lot of the time that the speaker was talking. Even though I've read multiple articles, I'm still not sure how this man was appointed to sign at Mandela's memorial.
On Monday of this week, the NY Times informed online gamers that their sacred grounds have been overrun with spies! As a former gamer, I find this to be quite awesome. Were I still in the fantastical and bright land of WoW, I would probably be drilling every newcomer, "Are you a spy? Are you? You can tell me, I won't tattle."
The reason the American and British spies are infiltrating our interwebs is because it's believed that "terrorist or criminal networks could use the games to communicate secretly." So there is just as much chance that gamers may run into spies as criminals or terrorists. Good thing my parents taught me from a young age to practice safety when giving out information online.
And, lastly, I have for you my favorite story of the week. I'm sorry to admit that this story made me laugh, but I can't feel all that bad about myself because every time I re-tell it, the person who is hearing the story also laughs. Maybe because they are uncomfortable. Or maybe because they think it's just as ridiculous as I do.
Reportedly, a couple was out Christmas shopping at a mall. The man was getting irritated because they'd been there for over 5 hours. He was telling his companion that they have more bags that they can carry, and it was time to leave. The woman replied that there was a shoe store nearby with a very good sale. Last store, she promised. He argued with her that she already owns more shoes than she could possibly wear in her lifetime, and when she accused him of killing her Christmas spirit, the man drop the bags and threw himself over a balcony. Because that is the logical reaction.
Clearly, there was more of an ongoing issue between these two than the media reported. Otherwise, he might have just thrown the bags down and walked away, or said, "Carry them yourself," or, "We're through." Instead, he chose to make a very bold, very irreversible statement. My bet is that the woman he left behind will take the advice of Robin Scherbatsky and never go to the mall again. I don't think I ever would.
Before we part, I'd like to leave you with this article. It's more pictures than words, so if you have 5 minutes, click it!
First of all, I'd just like to say congratulations to CNN, because they've done it again. Last week it was big news that the Pope once held a job as a bouncer, and this week Obama takes a selfie. While I do agree that taking a selfie during the memorial service of Nelson Mandela was tasteless, but still harmless, what CNN had to say about it was pretty stupid.
CNN states, "Nelson Mandela's memorial service Tuesday was supposed to be a once-in-a-lifetime event where dozens of world leaders join thousands of South Africans in a massive stadium, all to honor the anti-apartheid icon. Instead, it turn into a media sensation...about a selfie."
Yes. And bravo, you fueled it by writing your own story about a selfie. I also think you're being a little dramatic. Truly, there is no "supposed to be" about it. The event still took place, and all of our leaders came together to honor the life of a great man. How about, instead of writing about how tragic it is that this once-in-a-lifetime event (which, I can assure you, wasn't completely undone by President Obama's momentary indiscretion [one of my favorite phrases, thank you Kristen Stewart), you write about the actual event?
I wait with baited breath to see what gems you come up with next week.
Somewhere in the USA, where journalists are slightly smarter, there was different news on Mandela's memorial service. Unfortunately, it still wasn't about how wonderful the service was, nor did it at all commemorate South Africa's late and great hero. It was about the jack-ass standing to the left of the speaker who clearly has never learned a lick of sign language.
I read a couple of stories about this, including the account of deaf actress Marlee Matlin. From watching the video, I learned that facial expressions are a huge part of sign language. I watched the video of Thamsanqa Jantjie, the false interpreter, and I did note that his face never changed, and he seemed to be doing the same motions over and over again, maybe with some occasional, slight variances. He also wasn't signing a lot of the time that the speaker was talking. Even though I've read multiple articles, I'm still not sure how this man was appointed to sign at Mandela's memorial.
On Monday of this week, the NY Times informed online gamers that their sacred grounds have been overrun with spies! As a former gamer, I find this to be quite awesome. Were I still in the fantastical and bright land of WoW, I would probably be drilling every newcomer, "Are you a spy? Are you? You can tell me, I won't tattle."
The reason the American and British spies are infiltrating our interwebs is because it's believed that "terrorist or criminal networks could use the games to communicate secretly." So there is just as much chance that gamers may run into spies as criminals or terrorists. Good thing my parents taught me from a young age to practice safety when giving out information online.
And, lastly, I have for you my favorite story of the week. I'm sorry to admit that this story made me laugh, but I can't feel all that bad about myself because every time I re-tell it, the person who is hearing the story also laughs. Maybe because they are uncomfortable. Or maybe because they think it's just as ridiculous as I do.
Reportedly, a couple was out Christmas shopping at a mall. The man was getting irritated because they'd been there for over 5 hours. He was telling his companion that they have more bags that they can carry, and it was time to leave. The woman replied that there was a shoe store nearby with a very good sale. Last store, she promised. He argued with her that she already owns more shoes than she could possibly wear in her lifetime, and when she accused him of killing her Christmas spirit, the man drop the bags and threw himself over a balcony. Because that is the logical reaction.
Clearly, there was more of an ongoing issue between these two than the media reported. Otherwise, he might have just thrown the bags down and walked away, or said, "Carry them yourself," or, "We're through." Instead, he chose to make a very bold, very irreversible statement. My bet is that the woman he left behind will take the advice of Robin Scherbatsky and never go to the mall again. I don't think I ever would.
Before we part, I'd like to leave you with this article. It's more pictures than words, so if you have 5 minutes, click it!
Sources
08 December, 2013
What's the Scoop? (12:8)
After consulting with my sister (read: attorney), I've decided to take a slightly different direction with my blog. I'll still be writing short stories and personal memoir, because that's what I love. But in an effort to become more cultured and informed, and to help others do the same, I've decided to do a weekly cap of the news. So every Sunday evening you can look forward to reading a shortened version of the most controversial, hilarious, informative and uplifting stories that I've found, Monday through Sunday.
I'm sure we've all heard that on December 5th, 2013, Nelson Mandela passed away. Unfortunately, he passed away at a very unfortunate time for Paul Walker. Just for a second, before I launch into why Mandela's life is worth remembering, I'd like to talk about how not to honor someone in death via Paul Walker and Nelson Mandela. They both died. They've both gotten equal amounts of recognition. Except that we've used Nelson Mandela's death to belittle Paul Walker, who was a son, a father and a charitable man, not just an actor. The world lost two good men, and I highly doubt Mandela would appreciate how his death has been used to make others feel ashamed.
Okay, my soap box is back in my closet.
For those of you who don't know, Mandela was the President of South Africa from 1994 to 1999, but not before winning a Nobel Peace Prize in 1993. Additionally, Mandela is to South Africa as Obama is to America. At least when it comes to people getting their heads out of their asses and realizing that skin color doesn't make a bit of difference when it comes to intelligence and leadership capabilities, or anything else for that matter. As far as their rule... well, that remains to be seen where Obama is concerned. However, Mandela used his time in office to fight against racism, poverty and all types of inequality.
What makes all of this extraordinary is that Mendela was once regarded as a traitor because of his actions as a member of the African National Congress. In 1964, Mandela was sentenced to life in prison, and wasn't released until 1990. (To put it into perspective, I like to think of it this way: in my 25 years, I haven't yet outlived the length of his sentence.) Mandela's entire political life was spent leading the fighting against apartheid, sometimes more peacefully than others. When he and his comrades were waiting to be sentenced, "they agreed that even if sentenced to hang, they would refuse on principle to appeal." That's pretty badass.
Nelson Mandela's accomplishments in life were many, and there are few who can stand next to him and claim they have done half as much. We are better people, a better world, for having him in it. Rest in peace.
News on Detroit's recent bankruptcy.
CNN thought it was important to let us know the Pope was once a bouncer.
Did you know that Microsoft is developing a bra that will text you, telling you to avoid the kitchen because you're too stressed? That's right, a health-concious bra that teaches you not to stress-eat. Read the hilarious article here: This smart bra will stop you from eating your feelings. Ladies, rejoice!
I'm sure we've all heard that on December 5th, 2013, Nelson Mandela passed away. Unfortunately, he passed away at a very unfortunate time for Paul Walker. Just for a second, before I launch into why Mandela's life is worth remembering, I'd like to talk about how not to honor someone in death via Paul Walker and Nelson Mandela. They both died. They've both gotten equal amounts of recognition. Except that we've used Nelson Mandela's death to belittle Paul Walker, who was a son, a father and a charitable man, not just an actor. The world lost two good men, and I highly doubt Mandela would appreciate how his death has been used to make others feel ashamed.
 |
| This is not okay. |
For those of you who don't know, Mandela was the President of South Africa from 1994 to 1999, but not before winning a Nobel Peace Prize in 1993. Additionally, Mandela is to South Africa as Obama is to America. At least when it comes to people getting their heads out of their asses and realizing that skin color doesn't make a bit of difference when it comes to intelligence and leadership capabilities, or anything else for that matter. As far as their rule... well, that remains to be seen where Obama is concerned. However, Mandela used his time in office to fight against racism, poverty and all types of inequality.
What makes all of this extraordinary is that Mendela was once regarded as a traitor because of his actions as a member of the African National Congress. In 1964, Mandela was sentenced to life in prison, and wasn't released until 1990. (To put it into perspective, I like to think of it this way: in my 25 years, I haven't yet outlived the length of his sentence.) Mandela's entire political life was spent leading the fighting against apartheid, sometimes more peacefully than others. When he and his comrades were waiting to be sentenced, "they agreed that even if sentenced to hang, they would refuse on principle to appeal." That's pretty badass.
Nelson Mandela's accomplishments in life were many, and there are few who can stand next to him and claim they have done half as much. We are better people, a better world, for having him in it. Rest in peace.
If you have some extra time, here are some stories I found interesting (or silly) that didn't make the cut:
News on Detroit's recent bankruptcy.
CNN thought it was important to let us know the Pope was once a bouncer.
Did you know that Microsoft is developing a bra that will text you, telling you to avoid the kitchen because you're too stressed? That's right, a health-concious bra that teaches you not to stress-eat. Read the hilarious article here: This smart bra will stop you from eating your feelings. Ladies, rejoice!
Sources:
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/12/06/world/africa/nelson-mandela_obit.html?pagewanted=2&_r=0
Lastly, I've noticed recently that a lot of my pictures are no longer able to be viewed, not just from long-ago posts, but from recent ones too. This is unfortunate since I post a lot of pictures. I'll do my best to replace what I can, but I simply don't have all the pictures any more.
24 September, 2013
This post is going to be legen--wait for it....
My mom taught me years ago that if you can't sleep, don't fight it. You need to get up and do something, move to a chair and read a book, take a bath, go for a walk. Anything but laying in bed and trying to force it. So I figured, a LOT has happened over the last couple of months, and it's time to fill you in!
First and foremost, my sister got married last weekend! Yay! The wedding was beautiful and went off, I think, without a hitch. My sister probably noticed everything that went wrong because she was so close to all of the projects--she planned practically everything herself. But I don't think she really cared about 3 drinks in. She spent most of her night on the dance floor surrounded by her friends and family, and I'd say that's the best you can do.
Now here come the photos! We don't have the professional photos yet, so here are some that I took on my phone. In the interest of my sister and brother-in-law's privacy, I'm not going to post any pictures of them. Rest assured, though, she was beautiful.
It was a perfect day, and a beautiful setup. I can't wait to see the photographer's pictures!
(Still waiting?)
I also went to two amazing concerts in August. One was John Mayer, with Chickey, and the other was Josh Groban with Mama Bear. I have to say that I actually enjoyed Josh Groban a little more than John Mayer. This is almost blasphemous. John and I have been super tight since the 9th grade. Josh and I were also super close in 9th grade, but it was mostly a fling that ended somewhere around my freshman year of college. Needless to say, I was over the top excited for Johnny boy. I bought a guitar pick necklace and changed my desktop background at work to a picture of John. Not surprisingly, I caught a bit of flack for it in the 2 or 3 days leading up to the concert, which soured my mood a little bit. And while I was at the concert, I was so focused on seeing John, that I didn't take a lot of time to listen. Which is a funny concept considering I was there for music. I took about 10 photos and 20 videos.
At the Josh Groban concert, Mama Bear and I were at the Ravinia, and it was impossible to see Josh without walking 500 yards through a sea of people, picnic baskets, and lawn chairs. I was forced to lay there, listen to the music, and like it. And like it I did. It was hands down the best concert I've ever been to. I took 2 photos (I had to try once to see him) and one video. And I have a better memory of the not-so-well documented event.
(Waaaaaaaait for it...)
In other news, I got a new apartment! Yup. Again. It was turning out to be a nightmare of a situation, but at the last second a friend from Wells Fargo was able to pull through and we found an amazing apartment in a great area. My roommate shall be henceforth known as "The Cute One." Because she is. We've basically decided that she's my wife. Two weeks ago she cooked me dinner. This weekend I cooked her dinner on Saturday night, but then she went to her grandmother's birthday party on Sunday and brought me home a plate of food. We also have wine Tuesdays (which look like they're about to be moved to Wednesdays) where we drink (duh) wine with a few friends from work. Or if no one can make it, we booze alone, and that's good too. I'm so lucky to have an amazing roommate this time around. May we remain happily married for the next 11 months.
More pictures!
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| I was supposed to clean my room this weekend. Instead, I spent Saturday running errands, and all day Sunday was spent in bed watching How I Met Your Mother. Yup. Maybe someday. |
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| You can only see two, but I have three closets. Isn't that ridiculous? And totally necessary? |
I know this was mostly just a barrage of pictures, but it felt good to throw a few words in with them. In the last week I've had a lot more time to contemplate my life's happenings, and maybe, sometime soon, I'll post on what's been running through my mind.
Wish me luck in falling asleep. This has helped me feel tired, but now I'm hungry. And not the kind of hungry you can ignore and fall asleep on. That gnawing hunger that says, "Hey stupid. Way to have a gigantic lunch that kept you full until 9 o'clock." Super.
-dary.
12 July, 2013
Getting Serious
I want to apologize in advance for going all Carrie Bradshaw on you guys. So: I'm sorry.
Ever since I re-entered the dating world (or, more accurately, stopped going back and forth with the Giant) I've begun to consider how much the dating scene has changed. I'm not even talking as far back as when my parents were dating, but as recently as when I was in high school. With the way our generation approaches dating these days, I have to wonder: what constitutes as a serious relationship?
(See what I did there? Totally Carrie Bradshaw.)
When my parents were dating (not necessarily each other), I think it's pretty safe to say that they would spend a lot of time talking, getting to know each other, in general just spending time with one another. It was this crazy-ass concept called "courting." To "court," as defined by Merriam-Webster, is "to seek the attention of; especially: to seek to win a pledge of marriage from," or, similarly, "to engage in social activities leading to engagement and marriage."
This to me sounds like the complete opposite of how we now approach dating. It sounds like men would keep it in their pants, and women would keep their shirts on, and instead the happy and fully clothed couple would go out to eat, or dancing, or share drinks with friends.
Of course I'm not saying that we don't do those things these days. Yes, yes of course we do. However, the order in which they occur is now reversed. I feel like it must have been easy (erm, easier) to define the seriousness of a relationship by how you felt about that person and how far you were willing to let that feeling take you. Less than 10 years ago, I feel like the bases were in order from 1 to 4; there was no stealing bases or jumping straight to fourth. That must have made it a lot easier to say, "Yes, we've gone that far because we care about each other, and now we're serious."
So what does it take now? Is it measured by the length of time you're in a relationship? If you've introduced one another to your parents yet? Is it once we drop the L-bomb?
With everything all... floopy (thanks Pheobe), and all these lines that are now blurred, how are we ever supposed to know when we're entering into a serious and lasting relationship?
I think it's pretty fitting that the only answer I can come up with (thanks to my parents for setting my moral compass on the straight and narrow) is to not allow yourself, or allow someone to pressure you, to go out of order. Once I'm ready for a relationship, I will only accept a man who is willing to take the time to court me, to get to know me, to love me for my mind and my own code of ethics. Some people might frown upon such snobbish behavior, but I don't suppose those are the men I want to be dating anyway.
23 June, 2013
What AM I laughing at?
The idea came to me recently that maybe the reason I haven't written in my blog much lately is because the name doesn't match my current attitude. Since I realized this, I decided to start documenting what has made me laugh the past couple of days. I have a weird sense of humor, but I hope some of you will get a chuckle out of these pictures.
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| I actually walked around like this for a second until I realized something didn't feel right.... |
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| We only have one "true and certified" stamp at work, so I always have to walk halfway across the office. I threatened a few times to steal it from the guy who had it at his desk, but I could never do it in front of him. He went to lunch and I relieved him of the stamp. He left me a couple of sticky notes and it cracked me up. |
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| This is Jay, the dog I babysit for with some frequency. He does this really crazy jumping thing every time I come into the house, and it makes me laugh. |
14 June, 2013
Cutting the Cord (Take Two)
After all the flack that Alanis Morissette caught, I’m not really anxious to misuse the word “ironic.”
However, in this case, I’ll try to trust in my understanding and use it freely:
it’s ironic how difficult it was for me to move out of my parent’s house
considering how supremely pissed off I was when I realized that the only way
out of a dead-end town was to pack up and move home. So it’s hard to believe
that I spent the vast majority of last Monday morning crying my eyes out while
getting ready for work. Since last Monday, my emotions have been up and down a
ridiculous and never ending roller coaster.
“Supremely pissed off” may sound like an exaggeration, but I
had this horrible vision of how, after five years of living away from home, I
was suddenly going to be living by a set of rules again. It felt like a slap in the face that I couldn't move forward with my life on my own, that I had to backtrack and become a dependent again. Well, I got pretty
upset for just about nothing. Yes, certain rules were established, but most of
them were either no-brainers, or nothing worth stressing over. For example, if
you’re going to be late getting home: text dad to let him know. That’s not
really a rule so much as it is a common courtesy, and it was the only thing
that got me in trouble if I dropped the ball.
Truly, it ended up being one of the most enjoyable living
situations I’ve had since I left for college. I’m not a child anymore, and
no one treated me like one. There was a new level of mutual respect for each
other’s space, and an undeniable comfort that comes with living in a familiar
setting. They also spoiled me a little—mom would make two breakfasts instead of
one, and dad would just add my laundry to theirs.
I also had this amazing benefit of having three amazing neighbors,
Mama Bear, the Professor, and a neighbor I haven’t mentioned because we haven’t
had as much interaction, but he’s always been very, very kind to me. In the year and a half I lived with my
parents, Mama Bear became one of my closest friends. While the Giant and I were
dating I didn’t see much of her because I spent the weekends at his place and basically
shaped my life around him. But recently she and I started having dinner and
drinks fairly often—she would cook a delicious meal while I would talk and mix our homemade
dressing (olive oil, peach vinegar, Italian spices, and a pinch of salt). I
hope we can always continue this.
And of course I’ll miss coming home and talking my mother’s
ear off. She likes to playfully complain that I am a chatty Cathy, which I won’t
deny that I sometimes am. Occasionally
my dad was even made to listen to me. I’d walk into the living room and give
him the usual greeting, “Hi Daddy, how are you?” always accompanied by a kiss
on the cheek. He’d tell me his day was okay, and I’d be almost out of the room
when I’d stop suddenly and think of something that I needed to get off of my
chest. He’d smile appropriately or give me blank stares when the (one-sided) conversation
wasn’t positive. Then I would just walk out and re-tell the story when my mom
got home, and she’d ask appropriate questions or tell me that I’m being
ridiculous (if that was the case). That’s typically how my process plays out:
my father is my sounding board, giving me a chance to say it out loud to see
if my theory has any merit, and sometimes he would have feedback about how
better to present the idea or the topic of discussion to my mother if it needed to be brought up to her.
Now I’m here in this beautiful condo (they rent it out like
an apartment), and I won’t say “I couldn’t be happier,” because that’s never
the truth (more on that later). But it truly is a beautiful place and I feel
like I’m getting a great deal. My roommate and I get along well already; we’ve
spent a couple of nights drinking beer out on the balcony, talking about ex-boyfriends, our jobs, sharing pictures and stories.
This is what I’ve been waiting for: a life of my own. While
I’m sad to have left my parents and neighbors behind (let it be known that they
are literally only 20 minutes away), I’m also very excited. I didn’t move here
because it’s where I’m going to college. I didn’t move here to get away from a
dead-end temp job. I moved here because I got a job with a great company, and it’s
where I choose to live. I feel
fortunate that I can say that at my age, but I also feel a sense of, “It’s
about damned time!” Overall, the situation makes me smile. I think I’m on my
way to a happiness and sense of security that can only be found independently.
31 May, 2013
Keep Your Chin Up
Hello my lovelies! I come to you this evening with lots and lots of information to share! Much has changed, and I'm excited to share most of the news with you.
First things first: the Giant. The last I spoke of him, I was having him over on a Friday to see if we were making any progress. I'm glad to say that a lot has improved and he's on his way towards a very successful life! Unfortunately, in the weeks since we started talking again, the dynamic of our relationship changed, and he was no longer sure he wanted to pursue anything with me. Honestly, with how often I changed my mind, I can't blame him for being wary of my emotions. We tried taking another break to let ourselves think, and basically we came up empty. We ended it, I'd like to think mutually. I presented the idea that even if we got back together things would be too different, and he agreed. We were sure we wouldn't be able to get back on the amazing path we'd cleared for ourselves. The pain of this realization is still pretty raw. He is, hands down, the most amazing boyfriend I've ever had. He genuinely loved and cared for me, and understood me on so many levels; I could always be myself around him without worry or care, and that is such a huge deal. I wish with all my heart that we could have made it work, but we are on different pages right now. Every so often I become heartsick thinking about how unfair it is that there is all this love and nowhere to put it. But that's that.
On to other slightly depressing news.... About five weeks ago, our site at Wells Fargo decided they needed to relieve themselves of a large number of people. My mother calls this a "reduction in forces." They gave us about two weeks notice, and they even gave us a very nice severance package. But the point is: I lost my job. First the Giant, now this. I was devastated, at my absolute lowest I've been in a long time. I was worried not only for myself, but for the married men and women who would have to go home and tell their husbands and wives; for the new mothers with a least one mouth to feed besides their own; for my best friend and her boyfriend who live together, worked together, and lost their jobs together. A lot of people tried to make me feel better by telling me it might turn out to be a blessing in disguise. This gave me hope, but it was hard to show it through the circumstances.
Fortunately, I was only out of work for few weeks. I now work for Chicago Title and I couldn't be happier. Yes, I loved my job at Wells Fargo, but there is a very distinct reason for this: the people I worked with. I was never a fan of the actual job. I don't like calling borrowers once or twice a week; I really wanted to get out of the customer service world. At CT, I am going to be a Closer/Funder. I will have to deal with loan officers and notaries, but I won't be dealing with many people outside of the industry. Even if they don't understand what my exact job function is, at least they know the basics and we aren't starting from scratch. Also, the people I work with are, so far, really awesome. I'm excited to work for them, and I'm looking forward to growing with the company and becoming a valuable asset.
This being said, the nanosecond I was able to stop looking for a job, I started looking for an apartment. And guess what? I move next weekend! I have very mixed feelings about this. I'm incredibly excited because the place is BEAUTIFUL, within my price range, and my future roommate seems like a sweetheart! My room has a private door leading to the balcony, and the balcony overlooks a gorgeous lake. There is even a beach! Future Roomie sent me a couple of pictures that she took, but I will put up more as soon as humanly possible. But even with all this happiness and the amazing promise of regaining my independence, I am still pretty sad about moving out of my parents' house. They are the best roommates a girl could ask for, and I am going to miss them terribly--even though I will only be a 20 minute drive north on 355!
Needless to say, I went from very low to very high, all in the course of a few months. There are still things I'm working through, but with John Mayer's encouragement, I'm going to work on bettering my relationship with myself.
First things first: the Giant. The last I spoke of him, I was having him over on a Friday to see if we were making any progress. I'm glad to say that a lot has improved and he's on his way towards a very successful life! Unfortunately, in the weeks since we started talking again, the dynamic of our relationship changed, and he was no longer sure he wanted to pursue anything with me. Honestly, with how often I changed my mind, I can't blame him for being wary of my emotions. We tried taking another break to let ourselves think, and basically we came up empty. We ended it, I'd like to think mutually. I presented the idea that even if we got back together things would be too different, and he agreed. We were sure we wouldn't be able to get back on the amazing path we'd cleared for ourselves. The pain of this realization is still pretty raw. He is, hands down, the most amazing boyfriend I've ever had. He genuinely loved and cared for me, and understood me on so many levels; I could always be myself around him without worry or care, and that is such a huge deal. I wish with all my heart that we could have made it work, but we are on different pages right now. Every so often I become heartsick thinking about how unfair it is that there is all this love and nowhere to put it. But that's that.
On to other slightly depressing news.... About five weeks ago, our site at Wells Fargo decided they needed to relieve themselves of a large number of people. My mother calls this a "reduction in forces." They gave us about two weeks notice, and they even gave us a very nice severance package. But the point is: I lost my job. First the Giant, now this. I was devastated, at my absolute lowest I've been in a long time. I was worried not only for myself, but for the married men and women who would have to go home and tell their husbands and wives; for the new mothers with a least one mouth to feed besides their own; for my best friend and her boyfriend who live together, worked together, and lost their jobs together. A lot of people tried to make me feel better by telling me it might turn out to be a blessing in disguise. This gave me hope, but it was hard to show it through the circumstances.
Fortunately, I was only out of work for few weeks. I now work for Chicago Title and I couldn't be happier. Yes, I loved my job at Wells Fargo, but there is a very distinct reason for this: the people I worked with. I was never a fan of the actual job. I don't like calling borrowers once or twice a week; I really wanted to get out of the customer service world. At CT, I am going to be a Closer/Funder. I will have to deal with loan officers and notaries, but I won't be dealing with many people outside of the industry. Even if they don't understand what my exact job function is, at least they know the basics and we aren't starting from scratch. Also, the people I work with are, so far, really awesome. I'm excited to work for them, and I'm looking forward to growing with the company and becoming a valuable asset.
This being said, the nanosecond I was able to stop looking for a job, I started looking for an apartment. And guess what? I move next weekend! I have very mixed feelings about this. I'm incredibly excited because the place is BEAUTIFUL, within my price range, and my future roommate seems like a sweetheart! My room has a private door leading to the balcony, and the balcony overlooks a gorgeous lake. There is even a beach! Future Roomie sent me a couple of pictures that she took, but I will put up more as soon as humanly possible. But even with all this happiness and the amazing promise of regaining my independence, I am still pretty sad about moving out of my parents' house. They are the best roommates a girl could ask for, and I am going to miss them terribly--even though I will only be a 20 minute drive north on 355!
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| The kitchen. |
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| The view from the balcony. |
"Don't be scared to walk alone, don't be scared to like it. There's no time that you must be home, so sleep where darkness falls. Dream your dreams, but don't pretend. Make friends with what you are. Give your heart, then change your mind; you're allowed to do it. God knows it's been done to you, and somehow you got through it."
"The Age of Worry" (Born and Raised)
08 March, 2013
Doing Things My Own Way
Tuesday was the snowiest day in recent Chicago history, so it didn't really surprise me when my work phone rang and it was Mother. Without saying "hello," she cut to the chase: "Why are you still at work?" I laughed and told her the roads really weren't that bad--and they weren't--and after bickering together about how unfair it is that I was still at my desk, we moved on to other topics of conversation. At that point I figured, since I had her on the phone, I may as well fill her in.
"Mom, I'm having the Giant over on Friday night."
To which she responded, "Kelly. What are you doing?"
I took a blind leap and told her the stupid truth, "What I want to do."
Quite possibly, my response may have reminded her of my teenage years when she and I would argue about the sanity of my rash decisions. There is one particular fight we both remember clearly which ended abruptly and solidified an understanding between us. I was on my way somewhere, and we were arguing across the kitchen counter, my body half turned toward the exit, spite filling the room in the form of the shaky confidence of a 15-year-olds words. In the middle of my rant, my mother's anger vanished, and suddenly she burst into loud laughter. Dumbstruck, I asked her what was so funny. She responded, "I'm just so proud of you for sticking up for yourself and doing what I taught you, but I just hate that you're using it on me." Fight over.
My words have much the same effect some nine years later, and she immediately changed her tune. She began to ask questions, "What's he been up to? Does he have the same job?" and all the other questions you would expect your mother to ask about a potential significant other.
At any rate, in the midst of our decision to see each other this weekend, we've begun to talk again. Tuesday night we were on the phone for quite some time, and I had been drinking (two glasses of wine over dinner with Mama Bear), so I was feeling relatively talkative and curious. On Wednesday morning I woke up with a weight on my chest, and I immediately assumed that the feeling was linked to the Giant and our Tuesday night talk. Maybe I asked too many questions and was trying too hard to wrap my head around something that just isn't ready to be figured out?
However, usually when I pinpoint the problem, I begin to feel better and work to fix the issue. But in this case, I was still feeling just as downtrodden. I gave it about 20 minutes more thought, and realized that I had another issue that was making me feel guilty. I spoke with my sister, the bride-to-be, on Tuesday night because she was hoping that I would be able to go with her on Saturday to her choice florist shop. The appointment is at 11AM on Saturday, but I was already commissioned to pick my parents up at the airport at 10:20AM. When I spoke to my parents on Wednesday morning, they agreed to take a taxi, and as soon as I told my sister I was available to her, I immediately felt better. Visiting the florist is something a bride shouldn't have to do alone, and more importantly, I want to go with her.
That being said, I've started to worry that I've misinterpreted a lot of my negative feelings. I wonder if because my issues with the Giant were foremost on my mind in the four or five months before the breakup, maybe there were a lot of situations like this one. Something would be bothering me, but instead of giving it much thought, I would assume it was a Giant-related issue. To be truthful, there were a lot of things about our relationship that I didn't like that didn't even necessarily have to do with him. As an example, he lives about an hour north of me, so I spent a good majority of my weekends traveling. I never had to twist his arm to get him to visit me, but we had mutually agreed when we started dating that his house is the better choice, simply because he has a TV and Xbox in his room, and two attractions within spitting distance: a huge mall, and Six Flags: Great America. The TV in my room doesn't even have cable, and there is really nowhere for us to go at my house that doesn't inconvenience my parents.
The reason I've decided to see the Giant is because I am utterly miserable. When I end a relationship, it's over; there is barely any crying and I'm gung-ho about moving on and finding someone shiny and new. (As a sidebar, I talked with one of my brothers about two weeks ago on Google chat and he asked me, to my embarrassment and amusement, "Still single?")
Five weeks later (holy shit, five weeks?), I've decided it's time to stop wondering and just revisit my decision. I'm still confident that it was the right one, but I want to know if he's been using this time like I hope, and I want to assess the probability of a future reconciliation. As I stated in my previous blog post, what I was looking for could not be found if he and I were searching together. We need to grow up separately for a while (he needs to make some changes, and I need to contemplate my feelings about these changes) in order to for us to work together.
It's Friday, so wish me luck!
"Mom, I'm having the Giant over on Friday night."
To which she responded, "Kelly. What are you doing?"
I took a blind leap and told her the stupid truth, "What I want to do."
Quite possibly, my response may have reminded her of my teenage years when she and I would argue about the sanity of my rash decisions. There is one particular fight we both remember clearly which ended abruptly and solidified an understanding between us. I was on my way somewhere, and we were arguing across the kitchen counter, my body half turned toward the exit, spite filling the room in the form of the shaky confidence of a 15-year-olds words. In the middle of my rant, my mother's anger vanished, and suddenly she burst into loud laughter. Dumbstruck, I asked her what was so funny. She responded, "I'm just so proud of you for sticking up for yourself and doing what I taught you, but I just hate that you're using it on me." Fight over.
My words have much the same effect some nine years later, and she immediately changed her tune. She began to ask questions, "What's he been up to? Does he have the same job?" and all the other questions you would expect your mother to ask about a potential significant other.
At any rate, in the midst of our decision to see each other this weekend, we've begun to talk again. Tuesday night we were on the phone for quite some time, and I had been drinking (two glasses of wine over dinner with Mama Bear), so I was feeling relatively talkative and curious. On Wednesday morning I woke up with a weight on my chest, and I immediately assumed that the feeling was linked to the Giant and our Tuesday night talk. Maybe I asked too many questions and was trying too hard to wrap my head around something that just isn't ready to be figured out?
However, usually when I pinpoint the problem, I begin to feel better and work to fix the issue. But in this case, I was still feeling just as downtrodden. I gave it about 20 minutes more thought, and realized that I had another issue that was making me feel guilty. I spoke with my sister, the bride-to-be, on Tuesday night because she was hoping that I would be able to go with her on Saturday to her choice florist shop. The appointment is at 11AM on Saturday, but I was already commissioned to pick my parents up at the airport at 10:20AM. When I spoke to my parents on Wednesday morning, they agreed to take a taxi, and as soon as I told my sister I was available to her, I immediately felt better. Visiting the florist is something a bride shouldn't have to do alone, and more importantly, I want to go with her.
That being said, I've started to worry that I've misinterpreted a lot of my negative feelings. I wonder if because my issues with the Giant were foremost on my mind in the four or five months before the breakup, maybe there were a lot of situations like this one. Something would be bothering me, but instead of giving it much thought, I would assume it was a Giant-related issue. To be truthful, there were a lot of things about our relationship that I didn't like that didn't even necessarily have to do with him. As an example, he lives about an hour north of me, so I spent a good majority of my weekends traveling. I never had to twist his arm to get him to visit me, but we had mutually agreed when we started dating that his house is the better choice, simply because he has a TV and Xbox in his room, and two attractions within spitting distance: a huge mall, and Six Flags: Great America. The TV in my room doesn't even have cable, and there is really nowhere for us to go at my house that doesn't inconvenience my parents.
The reason I've decided to see the Giant is because I am utterly miserable. When I end a relationship, it's over; there is barely any crying and I'm gung-ho about moving on and finding someone shiny and new. (As a sidebar, I talked with one of my brothers about two weeks ago on Google chat and he asked me, to my embarrassment and amusement, "Still single?")
Five weeks later (holy shit, five weeks?), I've decided it's time to stop wondering and just revisit my decision. I'm still confident that it was the right one, but I want to know if he's been using this time like I hope, and I want to assess the probability of a future reconciliation. As I stated in my previous blog post, what I was looking for could not be found if he and I were searching together. We need to grow up separately for a while (he needs to make some changes, and I need to contemplate my feelings about these changes) in order to for us to work together.
It's Friday, so wish me luck!
28 February, 2013
Girls Only: Product Review (February)
First and foremost, before I get into the heart of the "Girls Only: Product Review," I just want to apologize to the ladies out there. It is quite possible in the last few months that without my guidance you've gone astray and purchased products that aren't worth your money. I can't reimburse you, but never fear! I'm back, and I'm here to tell you about two face washes that I aren't for me, and one that I love.
Since October, I've tried purchasing a few different face washes. The first was from Aveda, and on a recent trip to Ulta Salon, Cosmetics & Fragrance, Inc., I had a discussion with a Beauty Consultant who used to work at an Aveda salon. She agreed with me that Aveda’s hair care products are amazing, but the skin care is not worth the price. First of all, the name is ridiculously difficult to type: "botanical kinetics: purifying gel cleanser." Second of all, it smells like a wet twig, you know those ones that are green on the inside? But the truth of the matter is, it just doesn't do much for your face. I saw zero improvement as far as blackhead, pimple or redness reduction. Also, it's $20-40 depending on the size bottle you get.
The second product had much the same effect on my skin, which is to say my skin was exactly the same mess after the entire bottle was gone. "Yes to blueberries: Age Refresh, daily cleanser" came highly recommended by Beauty Consultant, so I was pretty disappointed that it wasn't worth its salt. Coming in at $18 per bottle (or you can order it online for as little as $10 for 4.5 fl oz.), it's a little less expensive, but it smells like pottery clay. What really bothered me is that it completely disappears once you start to work it into your skin, which gives you this overwhelming urge to use more just to make sure you're covering your entire face. The worst part is the rinse: it does not come off cleanly. You need to use a washcloth to remove it, and even after you do your skin still feels like it has a greasy film on it. The feeling does go away once you dry your face off, but I was pretty tempted to re-wash my face with a real cleanser.
Now I'm happy to announce that I have a found an awesome face wash that I will continue to buy! Not only is it super cheap, about $4.50 per 6 fl oz bottle, but it spreads well and you don't have to use very much. It's "Pond's: Luminous Clean, Cream Cleanser." I know it's superficial, but it has a very pretty metallic sheen because of the Kaolin Clay. The smell is fresh and perfumy, but light, and just overall pleasant. Most of all, it rinses off cleanly and I have seen a reduction in blackheads, pimples popping out of nowhere, and redness.
However, I feel like it does leave my face feeling particularly dry afterward, which brings me to that part of the Product Review where I give you a tip! (Also, it turns out that the dryness might be attributed to the Kaolin Clay, which you can read in this article from Truth In Skincare.)
Always moisturize your face after you wash it. To some of you this may seem obvious, and to others like myself, you may wonder, "They have moisturizer that goes on your face?" The answer is not just "yes," but the answer is, "Yes, and it's called 'Mary Kay: Timewise, age-fighting moisturizer.'" Do not skip this step. I have very oily skin, and I recently learned that the reason is because the glands in my face over-produce sebum. If I were to skip the moisturizer, my skin would kick in double-time to replace the sebum that was stripped during the recent cleanse, plus the fact that it's already overachieving.
I’ve been using Mary Kay’s product for two years, and I go hours and hours and hours before my face starts to look or feel greasy. Because I get bored quickly—even with tried and true products—I decided to try Aveda’s biokenetics moisturizer in September, and my face was shiny and felt suffocated in less than 2 hours. However, it got great reviews from a lot of people, so it may just be my specific skin type that it doesn’t work for? It works well for my feet, knees and elbows, though! But if you're going to buy a moisturizer for your face, it's going to be Mary Kay. I will never to stray from the brilliance of this moisturizer ever again!
Since October, I've tried purchasing a few different face washes. The first was from Aveda, and on a recent trip to Ulta Salon, Cosmetics & Fragrance, Inc., I had a discussion with a Beauty Consultant who used to work at an Aveda salon. She agreed with me that Aveda’s hair care products are amazing, but the skin care is not worth the price. First of all, the name is ridiculously difficult to type: "botanical kinetics: purifying gel cleanser." Second of all, it smells like a wet twig, you know those ones that are green on the inside? But the truth of the matter is, it just doesn't do much for your face. I saw zero improvement as far as blackhead, pimple or redness reduction. Also, it's $20-40 depending on the size bottle you get.
The second product had much the same effect on my skin, which is to say my skin was exactly the same mess after the entire bottle was gone. "Yes to blueberries: Age Refresh, daily cleanser" came highly recommended by Beauty Consultant, so I was pretty disappointed that it wasn't worth its salt. Coming in at $18 per bottle (or you can order it online for as little as $10 for 4.5 fl oz.), it's a little less expensive, but it smells like pottery clay. What really bothered me is that it completely disappears once you start to work it into your skin, which gives you this overwhelming urge to use more just to make sure you're covering your entire face. The worst part is the rinse: it does not come off cleanly. You need to use a washcloth to remove it, and even after you do your skin still feels like it has a greasy film on it. The feeling does go away once you dry your face off, but I was pretty tempted to re-wash my face with a real cleanser.
Now I'm happy to announce that I have a found an awesome face wash that I will continue to buy! Not only is it super cheap, about $4.50 per 6 fl oz bottle, but it spreads well and you don't have to use very much. It's "Pond's: Luminous Clean, Cream Cleanser." I know it's superficial, but it has a very pretty metallic sheen because of the Kaolin Clay. The smell is fresh and perfumy, but light, and just overall pleasant. Most of all, it rinses off cleanly and I have seen a reduction in blackheads, pimples popping out of nowhere, and redness.
However, I feel like it does leave my face feeling particularly dry afterward, which brings me to that part of the Product Review where I give you a tip! (Also, it turns out that the dryness might be attributed to the Kaolin Clay, which you can read in this article from Truth In Skincare.)
Always moisturize your face after you wash it. To some of you this may seem obvious, and to others like myself, you may wonder, "They have moisturizer that goes on your face?" The answer is not just "yes," but the answer is, "Yes, and it's called 'Mary Kay: Timewise, age-fighting moisturizer.'" Do not skip this step. I have very oily skin, and I recently learned that the reason is because the glands in my face over-produce sebum. If I were to skip the moisturizer, my skin would kick in double-time to replace the sebum that was stripped during the recent cleanse, plus the fact that it's already overachieving.
All images not taken from my phone were found using Google's search engine.
22 February, 2013
In the Aftermath
Since the Giant and I split, I’ve taken the past three weeks to asses myself based not just on my relationship issues with him, but all of my failed relationships. Interestingly enough, I’ve come to find that my issue isn’t that I don’t know what I want, but that I don’t stand by those wants and communicate them to my partner. Instead I try to compromise and see if we can work together toward a common goal. Needless to say, it’s an unhealthy practice that inevitably leads to a broken and unsalvagable relationship.
I spoke with one of my coworkers who I’ll call Miss Love. She is 27 years old, has been with the same man for 6 years, and is happily engaged to be married this summer. Before her current boyfriend her dating history was a lot like mine, which is to say that neither of us has ever really been single. In talking to her about my predicament with the Giant, she told me it is very important to find out what I want in whatever way works from me, be it singledom or trial and error. The only thing that is important is to learn from my experiences and build a foundation of “makes and breaks.” If you have a clear understanding of what you want, you’re going to waste a lot less time. It seems obvious to say, but I have wasted so much time.
That being said, I have always had a very firm foundation of what is important to me. To name a few highlights: he must be independent, share a similar sense of humor, be fiscally responsible, share similar parenting views, and be kind, patient and tolerant. These things have always been on my list, but it wasn’t until the Giant that I realized that I need to be strong enough to express these things and stick by them. I kept putting myself into these unique situations, and through lack of experience I wouldn’t defend my knowledge of myself. For instance, let’s examine a “break” of mine, like “quick to anger.” I’ve always known I don’t want a man who is hot-headed, but because I’ve never experienced this first-hand, I might think to myself, “Maybe I can handle it.” For a while I’ll tolerate it and think, “Well, if I tell him I don’t like it he might stop.” But that’s really not something you can fix quickly, let alone fix it at all in some cases. You have to be willing to stick with this person and help them through it, and then it would no longer be categorized as one of your makes/breaks.
And don’t mistake “knowing what you want” with “picky” or “difficult to please.” Heaven forbid you have a clear definition of what you will NOT put up with, and which things you can be flexible about. Take for example a scenario Miss Love and I cooked up: there is a 35-year-old man with a daughter, and he lives at home with his mom. Most women, understandably, would run in the other direction. But what if that man is living at home to save money to send his daughter to college, and is waiting to move out for the right woman? To a lot of women, that might be a situation they’re willing to try and make work. Consider your limits and make a decision, but don’t treat it as a project. Feel free to support him, but don’t carry him.
In short, know what you want and be strong enough to say so. Do not compromise, and don’t let anyone—especially you—get in your way of finding the person who is right for you.
03 February, 2013
What is this, hide and seek?
Do you remember a few months ago when I mentioned that I'm really not much of a writer when I'm happy? (See: "Catching Up," which will direct you to "Burying the Past.") Well I guess I should throw in the towel because I can't write when I'm sad either. The last few months have been incredibly difficult for me in both my love life and at work, and I refused to find the time or motivation to put it into words.
Because it's the most difficult topic to talk about, I'll just say it and be done with it: I decided to end my relationship with the Giant. He is the most amazing boyfriend I've ever had, and the first boyfriend that my parents have liked since I was in high school. But there were a few essential things missing from the very beginning of our relationship that I thought we could eventually find or create. We both worked very hard to do so, the Giant most of all, but for whatever reason it just wasn't enough. This made me begin to wonder if maybe what's missing can't be found by two people working together, so I've started to put a lot of stock into that shitty little phrase, "Find yourself."
For those of you who know me or have read a single one of my blog posts, this will not come as a shocker: I've never been single. I've been chasing boys since I was old enough to understand that cooties are made up and that having butterflies in my stomach is weird but kinda fun. Now I think that the reason I can't find what I want with the Giant is because I have no idea what I want. I have no idea how to be happy with me.
So far (a whopping 32 hours), it's been pretty difficult to commence with the "finding myself" considering I'm burying myself beneath games on my android, Walmart $5-bin movies, and countless episodes of Castle. Maybe I'll stop hiding later when it doesn't hurt so badly. Or maybe it'll stop hurting so badly when I finally stop hiding and just let myself feel.
At any rate, the other reason I've been monstrously unhappy is because I was beginning to hate my job. For the first time ever, I woke up one day in January and thought, "I do not want to go to work." These words have never passed my lips on a Sunday night, nor have they crossed my mind on a Monday morning. At least, not in earnest. So for the past month I've been cheating on Wells Fargo with another bank (henceforth known as "Bank Name"), going to interviews and even going so far as to accept a new position. Except, when I went in to my boss's office to give him my letter of resignation he said, "Nope!"
Well, not really. He just asked why I was leaving and where I was going. When I told him Bank Name, he asked if I had some time that day to speak with a manager who'd left Bank Name to come to Wells. He had this manager call me on her day off to talk me about the differences between Bank Name and Wells. After hearing my issues with our site, he wanted to remind me that we are changing things up in a big way. The changes are very exciting and I could not be happier to be staying. It's not my place to share what's occurring, I think, until it's actually occurred so I'll just leave it there for now.
Considering the present circumstances, it's a crappy analogy but it's all I've got: Wells Fargo is my boyfriend. I never wanted to leave him, but I felt like it was my only choice. I'd been very unhappy for a few months and things weren't getting better. But then Wells Fargo decided to choose a different path toward making us an independent and self-sustaining site. This is all I've ever wanted from Wells. In August they removed "Interim" from our title, but there was still a lack of permanency that came with not being a Wells Fargo campus. It was a stroke of luck and good timing, but it's working out for me and Wells now.
I wish I could say the same for myself and the Giant. But maybe after I do my soul-searching, something good will happen. And if not, this is the first time I'll openly wish for an ex-boyfriend to find a happiness that surpasses the power of words.
Because it's the most difficult topic to talk about, I'll just say it and be done with it: I decided to end my relationship with the Giant. He is the most amazing boyfriend I've ever had, and the first boyfriend that my parents have liked since I was in high school. But there were a few essential things missing from the very beginning of our relationship that I thought we could eventually find or create. We both worked very hard to do so, the Giant most of all, but for whatever reason it just wasn't enough. This made me begin to wonder if maybe what's missing can't be found by two people working together, so I've started to put a lot of stock into that shitty little phrase, "Find yourself."
For those of you who know me or have read a single one of my blog posts, this will not come as a shocker: I've never been single. I've been chasing boys since I was old enough to understand that cooties are made up and that having butterflies in my stomach is weird but kinda fun. Now I think that the reason I can't find what I want with the Giant is because I have no idea what I want. I have no idea how to be happy with me.
So far (a whopping 32 hours), it's been pretty difficult to commence with the "finding myself" considering I'm burying myself beneath games on my android, Walmart $5-bin movies, and countless episodes of Castle. Maybe I'll stop hiding later when it doesn't hurt so badly. Or maybe it'll stop hurting so badly when I finally stop hiding and just let myself feel.
At any rate, the other reason I've been monstrously unhappy is because I was beginning to hate my job. For the first time ever, I woke up one day in January and thought, "I do not want to go to work." These words have never passed my lips on a Sunday night, nor have they crossed my mind on a Monday morning. At least, not in earnest. So for the past month I've been cheating on Wells Fargo with another bank (henceforth known as "Bank Name"), going to interviews and even going so far as to accept a new position. Except, when I went in to my boss's office to give him my letter of resignation he said, "Nope!"
Well, not really. He just asked why I was leaving and where I was going. When I told him Bank Name, he asked if I had some time that day to speak with a manager who'd left Bank Name to come to Wells. He had this manager call me on her day off to talk me about the differences between Bank Name and Wells. After hearing my issues with our site, he wanted to remind me that we are changing things up in a big way. The changes are very exciting and I could not be happier to be staying. It's not my place to share what's occurring, I think, until it's actually occurred so I'll just leave it there for now.
Considering the present circumstances, it's a crappy analogy but it's all I've got: Wells Fargo is my boyfriend. I never wanted to leave him, but I felt like it was my only choice. I'd been very unhappy for a few months and things weren't getting better. But then Wells Fargo decided to choose a different path toward making us an independent and self-sustaining site. This is all I've ever wanted from Wells. In August they removed "Interim" from our title, but there was still a lack of permanency that came with not being a Wells Fargo campus. It was a stroke of luck and good timing, but it's working out for me and Wells now.
I wish I could say the same for myself and the Giant. But maybe after I do my soul-searching, something good will happen. And if not, this is the first time I'll openly wish for an ex-boyfriend to find a happiness that surpasses the power of words.
26 October, 2012
Girls Only: Product Review (October)
Welcome to the second edition of "Girls Only: Product Review!" This month I will be treating you to two reviews. You're welcome! .... Just kidding. It's only because I don't think I have enough to say about just one of these products to fill a "respectably-sized" blog post. Also unfortunate is the fact that I won't be reviewing anything I said I might review in the September edition. I promise I'll get around to it, but here is what's piqued my interest lately!
This month I bring to you one product that I have been using for over 2 years, and the other I used for about two weeks. Because I like to end on a positive note, let's begin with the short-lived product.
In September's "Girls Only," I told my audience that I would most likely be purchasing a leave-in product to help protect my hair from my damaging styling regime. Well, instead of waiting for my birthday coupon from Aveda—which didn't actually arrive, by the way!—I made an impulse purchase when the Giant and I spotted an Aveda store at a mall near my office building. I purchased brilliant's damage control leave-in spray thinking there was no way I could go wrong with an Aveda hair-care product.
Well, I was wrong. Ish.
I hope you guys realize how ridiculously picky I am when I tell you that the reason I dislike the product isn't because it doesn't do everything it advertises. I'm sure it does. As stated on the Aveda site, it is meant to protect against damage caused by combing, heat-styling and the sun. Like I said, I'm sure it does. I also have no issues with the fragrance. Like all of Aveda's other hair-care products, I think it smells fabulous.
What I didn't like was that fact that my hair felt very coarse—kind of like fine, flexible hay—the moment I put my hair under the blow dryer. The drier my hair became, the more this feeling would give way to soft-ish feeling, clean-looking hair. Apparently I need to learn to read, because when I purchased it, I made an assumption that it would not only protect my hair, but it would leave it feeling super soft. As stated, soft-ish is marginally off the mark, and while the feeling of running my brush through a stack of tangled hay eventually does diminish greatly, the product doesn't do what I expected. Therefore, I'm going to pawn it off on someone who might not be as petty as me and wants to use it anyway. Smells fines. Works great. I just want softer hair.
Now, the entire reason I made the assumption that I know what the product does without reading the handy, descriptive "these are the things I do, and nothing more" text on the back of the bottle is because I've used another leave-in product that does exactly what any hair-obsessed product reviewer wants. The creators aptly named it it's a 10 miracle leave-in product. It costs about $6 less than Aveda's product (depending on where you buy), and it is truly a miracle product. The reason they call it "it's a ten" is because it performs ten tasks, from heat protection, to enhancing shine, to seriously softening the hair follicles.
The only issue I've ever had was caused by user error. A couple of times I've sprayed once or twice too many, and it leaves my hair feeling weighted down and kind of tacky (i.e. if I tried to run my hands through it, my fingers would get caught even though my hair wasn't tangled). So just don't overdo it (you'll figure out how much is enough for your hair type through trial and error) and you can't go wrong.
Here's a funny thing. I've already written what I would consider a "respectably-sized" blog, and I've reviewed two products, but the "it's a ten" product wasn't exactly what I had in mind, even though I have been using it for 2 years.
The second product I wanted to talk about will just have to wait till next time! But I'll give you a hint: It's in the picture!
Before I go, here's a helpful tip!
If, like me, you have very oily hair, do NOT condition from root to tip. In fact, I don't even really get close to the root. I start conditioning my hair at about chin-length, and I make sure that most of the conditioner is concentrated at the tips. This makes it so I can go almost a full two days before the oil in my hair becomes noticeable—which is saying a lot.
This is where the photos of wrongdoers ends, even though the options are limitless because there isn't actually a single picture on Google of a girl conditioning her hair "correctly"—I put "correctly" in quotes because I've based the use of that word off of our understanding that we're dealing with overly-oily hair.
This month I bring to you one product that I have been using for over 2 years, and the other I used for about two weeks. Because I like to end on a positive note, let's begin with the short-lived product.
Well, I was wrong. Ish.
I hope you guys realize how ridiculously picky I am when I tell you that the reason I dislike the product isn't because it doesn't do everything it advertises. I'm sure it does. As stated on the Aveda site, it is meant to protect against damage caused by combing, heat-styling and the sun. Like I said, I'm sure it does. I also have no issues with the fragrance. Like all of Aveda's other hair-care products, I think it smells fabulous.
What I didn't like was that fact that my hair felt very coarse—kind of like fine, flexible hay—the moment I put my hair under the blow dryer. The drier my hair became, the more this feeling would give way to soft-ish feeling, clean-looking hair. Apparently I need to learn to read, because when I purchased it, I made an assumption that it would not only protect my hair, but it would leave it feeling super soft. As stated, soft-ish is marginally off the mark, and while the feeling of running my brush through a stack of tangled hay eventually does diminish greatly, the product doesn't do what I expected. Therefore, I'm going to pawn it off on someone who might not be as petty as me and wants to use it anyway. Smells fines. Works great. I just want softer hair.
Now, the entire reason I made the assumption that I know what the product does without reading the handy, descriptive "these are the things I do, and nothing more" text on the back of the bottle is because I've used another leave-in product that does exactly what any hair-obsessed product reviewer wants. The creators aptly named it it's a 10 miracle leave-in product. It costs about $6 less than Aveda's product (depending on where you buy), and it is truly a miracle product. The reason they call it "it's a ten" is because it performs ten tasks, from heat protection, to enhancing shine, to seriously softening the hair follicles.
The only issue I've ever had was caused by user error. A couple of times I've sprayed once or twice too many, and it leaves my hair feeling weighted down and kind of tacky (i.e. if I tried to run my hands through it, my fingers would get caught even though my hair wasn't tangled). So just don't overdo it (you'll figure out how much is enough for your hair type through trial and error) and you can't go wrong.
Here's a funny thing. I've already written what I would consider a "respectably-sized" blog, and I've reviewed two products, but the "it's a ten" product wasn't exactly what I had in mind, even though I have been using it for 2 years.
The second product I wanted to talk about will just have to wait till next time! But I'll give you a hint: It's in the picture!
Before I go, here's a helpful tip!
If, like me, you have very oily hair, do NOT condition from root to tip. In fact, I don't even really get close to the root. I start conditioning my hair at about chin-length, and I make sure that most of the conditioner is concentrated at the tips. This makes it so I can go almost a full two days before the oil in my hair becomes noticeable—which is saying a lot.
 |
| This girl is wrong. |
 |
| This girl is sort of wrong. |
 |
| Why would you contort yourself like this? Also, super wrong. |
This is where the photos of wrongdoers ends, even though the options are limitless because there isn't actually a single picture on Google of a girl conditioning her hair "correctly"—I put "correctly" in quotes because I've based the use of that word off of our understanding that we're dealing with overly-oily hair.
Fortunately, I found this crazy girl with a pair of scissors that is aimed at the exact spot where I would start spreading the conditioner down through my hair.
 |
| This girl knows what she's doing. Except, maybe if she'd conditioned her hair ever, she wouldn't be aiming a crappy pair of scissors at her tangled, frizzy hair with all its split ends. Bet you didn't consider that, you neglectful, scissor-wielding nutjob. |
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