Shady Stuff Going On

So I got some strange email telling me that I no longer had to a fee as an administrator of our site, and something about keeping readers up to date on city issues. Then was informed that theEnforcer tried to post something and couldn't. I think someone hijacked our blog. We need Jack Bauer, and dammit, we don't have time for this.

it is time

one of my favorite lines in one of my favorite disney movies, the lion king. of the ascension of simba to his rightful place as king, the eccentric but wise rafiki confidently says "it is time."

two of us here have since turned 25. it is time...to take your place as the wise 'sage' that the rest of us need.

our lives are once again busy. it is time...to find some way of connecting. we're so relevant with technology.

our dearest lindley is no longer on the west coast. it is time...to bridge this distance.

and so returns the politics of the playground. perhaps an epilogue to shady's redemption? perhaps new stories, similar griefs, new triumphs? whatever may be the case, it is time.

let it be

me: when does it end?

sugardaddyjeff: believe it or not, when you say it does.

I don't even know if I'm jaded anymore...

Forgiveness means letting go, and letting go means separation. And it sucks. To forgive, apparently, is to let go of our perceived right to punish our offender. We basically say, “You fucked up, but I won’t hold it against you any longer.” I think this also implies an underlying belief that said person is better than how they have acted in the past – that we believe they can be more caring, honest, have more integrity, etc. So by forgiving we not only release them from the punishment we would like to inflict upon them, but we also release them from the bondage that would confine them to forever being the offender we knew them to be. We release them to become more.

Sounds good, right? Everybody wins? Not so much. To forgive and let go also means that we separate ourselves from the pain and anger we have been holding on to, and from the offender we have been relating to (even if only in our mind, our phantasy if you will). This, I think, is the hardest part of forgiveness. We want to hold on to our pain and condemn the other as a rotten offender; there is a sort of power we feel in this. We feel as though we rule over them by forever condemning them and wishing, if not imparting, punishment on them. And if feels damn good. They deserve that punishment, right? They deserve to be seen for the no good, low down, dirty, rotten, motha-f***er (the crudeness is meant to be humorous, fyi; sorry if it offends) that we have seen them to be. So separating ourselves from this power that we believe we have gained only adds to the pain from which we have already suffered. And perhaps we fear that doing so again gives the power to our said offender. But is that true? I guess it would be if we thought it meant going right back to the destructive relationship we once were in. But if that is the case, then forgiveness was never complete.

If forgiveness means letting go of our power to punish and giving the offender the freedom to be better, then going back to the destructive relationship does none of that. It leaves the offender as the rotten person. But if we were to set a boundary that forced them to change how they act in relation to us, that would be offering the chance to become more. Such a boundary would in effect say, “I believe you are better than you have been, and I want you to have the chance to see that. So I cannot be the person you once knew me to be, because then neither of us is free.” But what is this boundary? I wish I had an answer. I’m not even sure what it looks like in my own life. But I know that it involves a separation from the person and relationship I once knew and so often feel drawn back to. I think for me it meant coming to a place where I could truly say, “I believe you are a better person, and I wish that you could see that in yourself. So I’m giving you the chance to see and become that, but I don’t know if I’ll be around to see such a beautiful change happen.” Are we friends? I don’t know. All I know is that I have to maintain a boundary that gives him the chance to be better. And the separation is painful. There is loss in the freedom. But it is good, and it is right.

I guess sometimes love means doing what’s best and not getting what you want. Kind of like the end of Casablanca, where you want to protest the separation because you know it means the loss of love, but you can’t because you know it was right. I thought I had a jadedness that could not be cured; then I saw Casablanca. And now, I don’t even know if I’m jaded anymore. But I know I forgave, and I feel both freedom and loss, and hopefully something good was done.

To end with, I will follow suit of Pitch and include the song of the day - Kelly Clarkson's (because she gets us) Sober:

And I don't know
This could break my heart or save me
Nothing's real
Until you let go completely
So here I go with all my thoughts I've been saving
So here I go with all my fears weighing on me

Three months and I'm still sober
Picked all my weeds but kept the flowers
But I know it's never really over

And I don't know
I could crash and burn but maybe
At the end of this road I might catch a glimpse of me
So I won't worry about my timing, I want to get it right
No comparing, second guessing, no not this time

Three months and I'm still breathing
Been a long road since those hands I left my tears in but I know
It's never really over, no

Three months and I'm still standing here
Three months and I'm getting better yeah
Three months and I still am

Three months and it's still harder now
Three months I've been living here without you now
Three months yeah, three months

Three months and I'm still breathing
Three months and I still remember it
Three months and I wake up

Three months and I'm still sober
Picked all my weeds but kept the flowers 

Where did the good (thoughts) go?

Ladies, we are dropping the ball!!! Surely we haven't run out of all our good thoughts. I know, I know, school's busy right now, as is life, but we are doing the world a disservice by not sharing our thoughts! I hereby commit to a post on jadedness, forgiveness, and match.com within the next week. Hold me to it! And I hope to hear your thoughts too!

the longest preface for song lyrics.

theology students (and admittedly, fellow sis-ers) have nothing on this preface! enjoy.

it’s an honor to live among such avid fans of music: new bands, gripping lyrics, sweet guitar solos…all of it and more, i’m sure. but here’s a tiny contention: i hardly connect with similar experiences–in fact, the extent of my lyrical absorption came by way of delilah after dark. in other words, gloria estefan, madonna, whitney houston, and similar cheesy music that falls under the ’soft rock’ genre. if you want to know if your heart will go on, my girl celine and i have your back (because my diva mentor mariah told me a hero lies in you). in my defense, i may be able to hold my own on smokey robinson, the drifters and maybe even a little bill withers. sadly, however, i don’t keep company with too many men twenty-five years my senior. i trust that they would appreciate my style.
but i digress.

as much as i love my friends vast musical knowledge, i must admit an occasional level of embarrassment. sometimes a certain pretentiousness of one’s knowledge of the best bands creeps into conversation and i am left with nothing to show for myself save for destiny child’s Writings on the Wall album (or at best fergie’s contribution with The Duchess).

quick disclaimer: the aforementioned pretentiousness does not occur on a regular basis, and this is not directed to one person; simply this–sometimes i feel not only deficient in my musical repertoire, but moreso deficient as a human for such ignorance.

my defensive response with these conversations is something akin to childhood recess conversation. “you beat mikey at foursquare? well i made a better paper mache valentine than cindy.” what cindy and paper mache have anything to do with mikey or foursquare, i have no idea. the point is, i look for something else at which i can prove myself superior.

disclaimer #2: my childhood–more specifically recess–did not include anyone by the names of mikey or cindy. again, this is not directed at anyone in particular.

my go-to conversation shifter (aka, compensating for gloria and celine) is the tried and true “how ’bout them ______(insert nearest pro team here).” if that doesn’t work, something about baking/cooking. and if all else fails, i’ll just walk away. i’ve had an iPhone for a few months now, and before then a blackberry. those work well, too. at the end of the day, what i want is simply the pretentiousness that is engendered though knowing something more than what mikey AND cindy know.

here’s the thing: i love pop music. quite unapologetically in fact. so please do not scoff at me when i sing “i’m not gonna miss you like a child misses his blanket,” because guess what?
that makes sense.

and you know what? my life would suck without you. so i will ask life’s most pressing existential question: where do broken hearts go? will they find their way home?

p.diddy is missing you…so why can’t i wake up every morning feeling like him?! and finally, even if this song is in fact about you, i’m gonna sing about your apricot scarf and silly gavotte anyway.

so i can’t beat the cindys and mikeys of this world. that’s ok, at least i have my pop music.
and with that, i leave you with today’s gripping lyrics…

still waters, heavy hearts
plans we make all fall apart
disillusioned and lost in the gray
how can we fix the heart when it breaks?
don’t know how much more you can take

just give it time
it’s gonna get better
now is not forever at all
just give it time
everything changes
tomorrow comes today will be gone
everything’s gonna be fine
just give it time, give it time

quiet landslide when nobody knows
regretted decisions that nobody chose
under water and sinking fast
no way out, no way to get back
what might have been is lost in the past

when the world you’re in is still again
and it all fades out
you’ve reached the end, begin again now

everything’s gonna be alright
just give it time

i can get used to this

a two-class schedule, that is. i'm actually reading ALL my assignments and giving substantial input and asking questions in class! granted, the class is on community organizing--aka my projected future. heres and theres.

here's an excerpt from Community: The Structure of Belonging by Peter Block (2008). The chapter is on "shifting the context for community" and the section is called "getting our story about story straight":

There are other kinds of stories that in their telling become a limitation. Limiting stories are personal versions of the past. They are stories about the conclusions we drew from events that happened to us. Other limiting stories are those that are rehearsed or make the point that the future will be a slightly modified continuation of the past out of which the story arose. Stories of this nature place us as victims of events or even fate.

...The decision to tell those stories over and over again as if they were defining truths creates the limitation against an alternative future...In this way, restoration can be considered the willingness to complete and eliminate the power out of the current story we have of our community and our place in it. This creates an opening to produce a new collective story. A new story based on restorative community. One of possibility, generosity, accountability (35-36).

Hugh saw my hair.

He said it had an "Avril" look. I gave him a weird look. He was awkward. That's all.

after a long hiatus

two quick posts, haha. i wrote this up in my time at the airport and thought i'd share. not quite about boys, but i enjoy sharing this experience with you all.

and shady, hugh is definitely appropriate for a new nickname. although he doesn't get the benefit of too many more nicknames ;)

i have a few staples in my wardrobe. as a good florida girl, leather flip-flops are a must. rain or shine, the tan (and sometimes black) sandals are the perfect compliment to any outfit…well, at least to me they are. for the record, i find sandals more fitting in rainy weather than close-toed shoes: instead of walking around in wet shoes all day, you can dry off your feet and still look nice without feeling miserable. at a pinch, throw socks in the purse, but only in really cold weather—aka anything below 75 degrees.

two other go-to items include jeans and sweatpants. i’m not talking velour-jumpsuits-so-you-look-casual-and-still-put-together type of sweats, just your classic yoga pants (*note for a future post: mullets and velour jumpsuits: jealous siblings in the family of UNACCEPTABLE THINGS). for comfy evenings, fleece pants are not only acceptable but also welcome. and who doesn’t have their favorite pair of jeans? in my case, i have my favorite all-around jeans, as well as my favorite this-makes-my-butt-and-legs-look-a-lot-better dark jeans. the 90s have come and gone, and so has my stonewashed faded pair of denim, but if the occasion ever called for it, i may.

jeans and sweats are an integral part of my clothing collection, for better or for worse. it’s all about comfort and casual. perhaps I am getting to the age where that last statement is a little juvenile, but I’m banking on the fact that my social awareness will encourage me to shift this mindset before it’s too late. i gave up coolats, scrunchies, skorts, and tube socks a while back—the future looks promising.

today I am once again jet-setting for a few days, and the airport is a breeding ground for social analysis. i’m not so naïve to think that airport behavior is a mirror for daily living, but it certainly magnifies behavioral nuances: the efficiency of the weekly business traveler, the family bickering while returning home post-disneyland vacation and the mid-twenty-something free-spirited gumption setting to backpack europe/australia because “there’s no time like the present” (i am secretly jealous of this last group).

on my way to mcdonalds (because terminal 5 has limited options), i was surprised to finally notice and articulate another airport behavioral nuance: the difference between those who wear sweats and those in jeans. it’s not the difference between “simple folk” and those who regularly shop on rodeo drive. in fact, i’ve seen more dolled-up ladies sporting the yoga pants than those in jeans. instead i think the difference is akin to street smarts versus ivory tower knowledge. there are benefits to both…

(i’d continue that argument, but as a graduate student jealous of life outside said inlaid towers, i can’t come up with anything at the moment)

here’s the point: one must think strategically about wardrobe when flying, and i am a firm believer that comfort and casualness trumps the business attire and jeans. that is, unless you have a meeting immediately upon arrival…or a really hot guy is about to pick you up. seriously, he’s got to be worth it. as my NorCal friends love to say, hella good. then again, you can throw the jeans and makeup in your bag and change before reaching the escalator. so we’re back to “comfort and casual”—my truism when flying.

here’s to you, fellow makeup wearing, casual, sweatpants-donned ladies of the domestic and international airways. you keep it classy, you keep it casual, and you look great, too. you don’t even need to snub our jeans-wearing counterparts…instead, rest knowing your flying experience is exponentially better. God bless each of your ministries, and safe travels.

ps—sandals have proven themselves winners in flight as well. I have yet to get a staph infection from the four barefoot steps through security. who wants to re-lace shoes?
pps—my apologies for pigeonholing all of northern california. it is a beautiful place, full of beautiful people I’m sure, and I’ve only heard kids from fresno particularly drawn to “hella.”

(*caveat: Usher is currently hanging out one gate away from me. he is “casually” dressed in jeans and a gray shirt…and some sweet aviators. he is exempt from any wardrobe rules.)

What is wrong with me???

Why is it that when we girls get emotional we end up asking, "what is wrong with me?" Why does anything have to be wrong with me just because I start crying? Or laughing hysterically? Or throwing pillows in anger? I'm a girl, I have emotions, and they need to get out! What's wrong with that? I say nothing, and think that perhaps it is actually "healthy." Maybe not the extreme versions, or completely uncontrollable. I'm still on the fence about my sudden tears when walking home from Target tonight. Actually, I take it back. I seem to remember a night of ripping apart clothes that were given to me by a certain someone (is his new name Hugh?). The screaming absurdities, yelling profanities, and ripping apart those stupid clothes was one of the healthier moments I remember of my anger; and yes, it was absolutely an outburst. So why do I keep asking myself what the hell is wrong with me?

Well, I'll tell you what's wrong with me. I saw my life in a movie a few nights ago. We watched "Bridget Jones's Diary" in the hopes of mindless entertainment. I was hoping to fall asleep. Instead, the damn thing made me think and it made me want to throw whatever I could at the t.v. As I was watching Daniel schmooze over Bridget, making her feel so sexy and confident, I could have sworn I was watching Eagle Eye (now dubbed Hugh) on screen. There were even certain lines that I'm pretty sure he said to me, and in the same tone and manner and whole nine yards (does anyone know why it's 9 yards instead of some other number?). What really angered me was that in watching him be such a tool, I (and most people) thought "What is she doing with him? Don't be stupid Bridget! He's a jerk and not worth your time! Run away!" That angered me because if Eagle Eye/Hugh is Daniel, then I am Bridget (don't worry, I'm not psychotic; I know that it's a movie and not reality); and if I am Bridget, then I am the one who was stupid and made a fool of. So I am mad at myself for falling for his dumb schmoozing, and I'm mad at him for doing the schmoozing and making a fool of me.

So that's what's wrong with me. A dumb-ass, douchebag/Glen, emotionally retarded, immature, selfish (streaming line of profanities, mainly fucking) jerk of guy made me into a fool. And I hate him. And I love him. And I don't know how or why I can feel both things simultaneously, and I don't know what to do with either let alone both. So I cry and I scream and I laugh. I want to kick his tire until it's flat. I cry on my walk home from Target. I cry when I walk past his apartment building. I cry from the pit of my stomach, so much that it actually hurts me. And I get pissed because two months later it feels worse than it did the night I left him. I've said all I can say and done all I can do, so now I have to wait. I don't even know what I'm waiting for half the time. Some miracle? An answer? Reconciliation, or whatever ambiguous psychological term you want to use? The chance to throw eggs at him? One last time to be with him, and be held by him? Or a day when I finally don't think about him?

That's probably enough insight into my mind for now. I should add a disclaimer though - I realize that all of this sounds uber depressing and probably worrisome, but there is no need to worry. The crazy emotions only come in moments, and I know that I'm actually okay and "simply" making my way through whatever process this is.

the song currently on repeat

Something has changed within me
Something is not the same
I'm through with playing by the rules
Of someone else's game
Too late for second-guessing
Too late to go back to sleep
It's time to trust my instincts
Close my eyes: and leap!

It's time to try
Defying gravity
I think I'll try
Defying gravity
Kiss me goodbye
I am defying gravity
And you wont bring me down!

I'm through accepting limits
''cause someone says they're so
Some things I cannot change
But till I try, I'll never know!
Too long I've been afraid of
Losing love I guess I've lost
Well, if that's love
It comes at much too high a cost!

I'd sooner buy
Defying gravity
Kiss me goodbye
I'm defying gravity
I think I'll try
Defying gravity
And you wont bring me down!

I'd sooner buy
Defying gravity
Kiss me goodbye
I'm defying gravity
I think I'll try
Defying gravity
And you won't bring me down!
bring me down!
ohh ohhh ohhhh!

So guess what??

I have an interview on Tuesday at 10 in LA!!!!!! AND it's with my number one company!!!!! Check them out!

http://www.ravenandlily.com/

Okay now that the yelling is done. %#&%$&#IIII GeeeEETTT tttOOOO SSSEEEE Youuuu guuuysss SSoon!!%$&$%*

And I heard about "awkward one's " new lady friend. Who is a Baylor student living in LA for a few months working for a non-profit and has blonde hair and about my size..... oh hey twin what's up....

Progress

Today I ate one of the Godiva chocolates bought by "the artist" who "dumped" me. I ate it in the presence of me, myself, and I. 

And it was delicious. No stomach turning this time. 

Progress. 

speaking words of wisdom...

...a friend's facebook status (below). it struck a chord. not sure which one...i'll process soon.

Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option.

let it be.

It snowed in Texas! We had three inches of snow and our afternoon classes were cancelled. That's right, a College was closed down due to three inches of snow...only in Texas. I got to make a snow man in my backyard with my roommate Rebecca. We named it Glad-ice. Get it? The snow brought peace to the entire school. everyone was outside having snowball fights, making snow angels and taking pictures. Everyone played! Nobody thought of hectic papers or projects. They stopped and enjoyed the present. Not one stranger I passed walking home wasn't smiling. This week I encourage you girls to enjoy the present no matter how hectic like is. Do something this week for you. Do something out of the ordinary and for no other reason but because you want too. Miss you beautiful ladies and I will see you in 1 week!