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!

wisdom journal

A few months ago, Ruth Vuong, the former dean of students, gave several other ASC officers and me mini moleskin journals. The moleskin was to become our wisdom journal. I decided to use my journal to jot down great one (or two) liners that caught my attention.

The tan notebook sits in my purse, in theory so as to always be available for that kick-ass quote that i overhear when riding the Metro, or strolling through the city. Sadly, my purse also contains:
1.) "that book" that I'd love to read but never get around to,
2.) pretzels, fruit snacks, and/or any other edible pick-me-up,
3.) medication (you never know when the rescue inhaler will actually come to the rescue)
4.) an assortment of writing utensils, and
5.) miscellaneous other odds and ends.

Needless to say, the wisdom journal takes a backseat to other priorities...like taking really colorful notes, or a sudden drop in blood sugar.

Today though, the trusty moleskin came to the forefront. That, or the iGoogle daily quote page actually caught my attention. Robert Heinlein says "Of course the game is rigged. Don't let that stop you--if you don't play, you can't win."

Genius.

Of course the game is rigged. Insert your specific complication to life here. It does suck. BUT, don't let that keep you from taking the next step forward. Lately, I haven't wanted to continue playing. And this game is not limited to boys and dating relationships. Life has been, in short, overwhelming.

But I can't let that stop me. And I hope the dirty cheaters who rig the game for you (stupid boys, financial struggles, time-consuming commitments, and insecure co-therapists alike) don't stop you from playing either.

Black and White

At this very moment my life is absolutely insane right now. Everything is either black or white in the present realm of things. 3 weeks ago worked the Grammy's (amazing), 2 weeks ago was asked to be in a local band's music video "landslides" as the lead singers love interest (we held hands), 1 week ago caught a bug and coughed so hard i fractured my rib (slightly embarrassing) causing me to miss a few classes from lack of mobility, and this week caught a bug again (gotta love college campuses) so i'm coughing up a storm, singing and dancing with my sorority in an event cleverly titled "SING", while having my mom, grandma, brother and great uncle (who grows a magical plant in his forest in Maine), ex boyfriends sister and her friend stay over in Waco this weekend to see me. So life is crazy in the physical and present realm of my life.

On top of all I do have classes that are required of me and they do require some effort.

As all of this is going on in my head I am trying to get a job. Graduate school is out of the question and finacially i get cut off as soon as the diploma hits my hand. So yes, I want to ideally be in southern California. But I do not know where or what company to work for so i just have been applying everywhere, Then there is an amazing company based in Fayetteville Arkansas called echolite media. It fits me so well but have no clue if they are hiring. The person who would be my boss asked to follow me on twitter so thats a good sign I guess? And now we are face book friends but he has not said anything about me working for him. Blast! Then after watching all those surf porn movies with the awkward one I fell in love with a director by the name of Taylor Steele. He lives in Austin and LA perfect right? So I sent him an email yet haven't heard of anything, Then I sent an email to a guy who gave me his card on the red carpet. Still nothing...

So my brain is going crazy and cut off things with tiny tim for the mean time because things have been crazy. Yet he still calls often and we are trying to do the whole friend's thing, im taking it better than he is.

So laskdfjaldskfhaosdfhalwekfhaodfj!!!!#$%%#Q#L%#$WERGLK#$%J as well....

AHHHHHHHHHHH

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!$@^&**&!%$@&(@*

That's all for now. More thoughts to follow. 

The colors of life, love, and happiness...

This may be a bit juvenile, but perhaps our most profound moments come when we think like a child. Yesterday, as I was walking to my car, I might have had a handful of Peanut Butter M&M's that I was sorting through. When I say sorting through, I mean, making sure there are an even amount of each color, and then eating them in order of which color I like least and of course saving the best for last. (Don't get distracted by my OCD tendencies in this story) Well, if you know me at all, you know I don't eat the brown M&M's (GROSS!) so they weren't even in the mix. I ate orange first, and then blue, then yellow, leaving me with the dilemma of choosing between red or green. Traditionally, green is my favorite color (at least when it comes to M&M's). However, I spent a little more time thinking about the colors than I usually would and decided that I should decide based on how each color makes me feel. After a moment of reflection, I decided green makes me feel happy, but red makes me feel good.
I hope you all aren't completely lost already, because here comes the connection. I started thinking about what I really want to feel in my life. Do I want to feel happy? Or, do I want to feel good? It didn't take me long to decide that while happiness is nice and always welcomed, if I don't feel good first, then what is the point?
Oddly enough (or perhaps not), my thoughts immediately went to Slut and whether or not he makes me feel happy or good. Without hesitation, I decided that he makes me feel happy. Sure, there are moments when he makes me feel good, but overall, only happy.
Today, this theory was confirmed when I received a text from Slut saying "Hey, u two wanna do dinner? Tobin? Kelli? I had plans but they fell thru!" Tell me this... why did he feel the need to add that last sentence? Seriously? Was he trying to rub it in that I am just a backup plan? Okay, probably not, he probably wasn't at all conscious of what he was saying. Either way, it didn't make me feel good. Furthermore, the line "I have two to-do list, and you are on both of them. Everything else is crossed off so now I am calling you" started playing through my head over and over again.
Conclusion: I want a man, I want friends, I want a family, I want a career, and I want a life that makes me feel not just happy, but GOOD (or great, I'll take either).

Oh, and I saved the red M&M for last and it was completely satisfying.

hide and seek

no, not imogen (who is woman)...the game i have played with my previous personal blog. i made it a private blog, but the problem is: it has become private to the author, me.

so i started a new one a week ago. here is post #3, entitled "sooner or later"

the movie when harry met sally taught me that guys and girls could not be friends…because the sex part always gets in the way. i think it’s the honesty part that gets in the way.

recently i’ve been engaged in more and more conversations surrounding relationships. i blame it on a few things:

1.) we are two days removed from valentines day. it’s still tough for some.

2.) most of my friends are single, and we need to find some justification for this apparent ‘flaw.’

3.) probably something else profound…either way, we talk about dating at seminary, relationships in general, blah blah. i’m in my mid-twenties, it’s kinda justified.

in any case, yesterday’s conversation concerning the failures of relationships came down to the fact that we simply do not communicate with one another well. a (male) friend of mine asked what guys could do differently. the answer that he received from several girls was “just be open.” we ladies tried to turn it around: “would you guys feel weird if a girl asked you out?” again, the consensus was no. in fact, the guys would rather know where a girl stood and would welcome such openness.

so…i tried it out for myself. and by ‘it’ i mean letting a guy know where i stood. result: respect.

respect for a lot of things. i respect me a little more now. respect for my feelings and my capacity to engage the opposite sex. respect for the guy, for his honesty. respect for the relationship, that it welcomes openness.

interesting.

i’m 23 years old, and it’s taken me this long to realize that honesty truly is the best policy. i recognize that i blur the lines between honesty and openness, respect and honesty…but these traits aren’t too far away from each other. and it’s kinda neat to see myself putting mom’s advice into practice. it’s about time i do so. i wonder what’s next for me in this new world of openness and honesty…

maybe guys and girls can be friends after all? eh, i won’t get too far ahead of myself. ;)

Dear Gloria,

Please do not take South America away from me. You're right, I do have a good sense of humor about my absent-mindedness tendencies; however, I would prefer to leave S.A. in the humor category. Please don't analyze it and transform it into a sad, lonely place.

Thank you,
Shady

the best thing about being 15...

...(or at least not 25) is the freedom to let Dashboard Confessional speak to my soul. Let's back up. I think the best thing about not being 25 yet is the excuse to listen to dashboard. One day I'll learn to articulate with my own words instead of someone else's, but for now I leave you with another song lyric post. It came up on my Pandora playlist this afternoon, and halfway through I caught the words and chuckled to myself. Enjoy.

I'm starting to fashion an idea in my head
where I would impress you
with every single word I said.
Would come out insightful or brave or smooth or charming
and you'd want to call me
And I would be there every time
you'd need me
I'd be there every time...
But for now I'll look so longingly
waiting...
For you to want me, for you to need me, for you to notice me

**Disclaimer**
my one amendment: that i don't look so longingly.

thank you, iTunes Genius Mix

Question: Tell me what you think about me
I buy my own diamonds and I buy my own rings
Only ring your cell-y when I'm feelin lonely
When it's all over please get up and leave
Question: Tell me how you feel about this
Try to control me boy you get dismissed
Pay my own fun, oh and I pay my own bills
Always 50/50 in relationships

The shoes on my feet
I've bought it
The clothes I'm wearing
I've bought it
The rock I'm rockin'
I've bought it
'Cause I depend on me
If I wanted the watch you're wearin'
I'll buy it
The house I live in
I've bought it
The car I'm driving
I've bought it
I depend on me
(I depend on me)

All the women who are independent
Throw your hands up at me
All the honeys who makin' money
Throw your hands up at me
All the mommas who profit dollas
Throw your hands up at me
All the ladies who truly feel me
Throw your hands up at me

Girl I didn't know you could get down like that
Charlie, how your Angels get down like that
Girl I didn't know you could get down like that
Charlie, how your Angels get down like that

Tell me how you feel about this
Who would I want if I would wanna live
I worked hard and sacrificed to get what I get
Ladies, it ain't easy bein' independent
Question: How'd you like this knowledge that I brought
Braggin' on that cash that he gave you is to front
If you're gonna brag make sure it's your money you flaunt
Depend on noone else to give you what you want

In cognito?

As I signed onto my Portico account today, I saw this headline yelling at me from the announcement box:

**Dating at Fuller: Why is it so difficult? - A Valentine's Seminar for Single and Dating Students.

My 1st reaction: Oh, hell no!

My 2nd reaction: I should at least read a bit more about it

So this is what I found...

- Frustrated? Confused? Wondering why he or she s Just not that into you?
- Is your relationship just not working?
- Come and expand your view of dating
- Learn some practical dating tips
- Sort through confusion in dating to discover the potential for intimacy
- There will be plenty of other men and women to interact with!!!

Date: February 11, 2010
Time: 7:00 p.m.
Place: Rogers Community Room, Chang Commons
Building 271, First Floor

Refreshments will be served!!

Facilitated by Terry Hargrave, Professor of Marital and Family Therapy, School of Psychology
Sharon Hargrave, employee of the School of Psychology and Director of Strong Marriages/Successful Ministries

My 3rd reaction: The Hargraves on dating? Yes please. Whether incognito or not, I want to be there. Who is with me???

My Proposal

Yes, I did get proposed to... in my dream last night. Sadly, Taylor Swift was not involved; however, the ring was hidden in a bag of coffee beans. So at one point in the dream I very excitedly said yes to the proposal, but at another point I very emotionally said no. I'm not really sure if I ended up engaged or not.

Oh, and the proposer was none other than Eagle Eye.

Do It To Me, Sheldon

Came across another interesting article tonight. Justin Fung posted it on his fb page, so the credit goes to him. I think I need to read it one more time before I can comment, but I open the floor to you...

Shady's Redemption

I have recently acquired the newest chapter of my book, entitled Shady's Redemption. There might actually be two chapters in the process, or I might combine them into one; either way the themes center around redemption (finally!) and freedom. So here is a little preview:

Honesty, schmonesty. Honesty is one of those buzz words we hear flying around today, with constant encouragements to be honest with one another. Honesty seems to be the key to healthy life and relationships, as if there were a simple key to fixing all relational problems. "Just tell him/her/them how you feel"... right? But it's not that simple. You see, in order to be honest with another, we must first be honest with ourself. And that is possibly the hardest task of all.

Being honest with oneself requires letting go of all the defenses we've developed in order to save us from painful realities. It requires facing our own brokenness and failure. It requires accepting the fact that we cannot "have our cake and eat it too," as a fellow blogger likes to say. However, refusing to admit and accept such realities and disappointments only impedes the possibility of healthy and fulfilling relationships. Our needs cannot be met if we cannot be honest about what those needs are. And as much as we (I am hoping that this generalizes beyond me) like to believe that we do not have needs, that simply is not true. We have no chance of real happiness until we are willing to admit such things, and thus be honest with ourselves.

As I said above, we cannot be honest with another until we are honest with ourself. Without such honesty, we only become frustrated in our relationships. I often hear girls say (and have said myself), "He just doesn't get me." Perhaps he doesn't, but have you (or I) given him a fair chance to? Maybe he's really trying to understand you, but until you can face the truth of who you are and show him that, he will never be able to understand you. The same is true for him as well; honesty is definitely not a one-sided thing.

Honesty is not easy, and I hope I have not given such an impression. It is absolutely one of the most difficult things in life. No one wants to face disappointments and limitations; but that is our reality. Being honest is also incredibly scary. It requires vulnerability of oneself, and trust in the other. Sometimes that trust is sustained, and other times it is broken; but even in the brokenness we find the honesty of the relationship (i.e. that the other could not be trusted in such a way) and then have the chance for healing.

I have fought honesty for so long. I did not want to face my weakness, or admit that I had fallen... in love. And I do mean fallen, in the sense that it was something I did not want to happen, and it showed how weak I was - I could not even control my emotions enough to stay out of love. So I thought I could get out of the relationship any time I wanted, because I didn't love him. Or maybe I couldn't face the fact that I truly wanted love, but that it was not found in this relationship and I continued to stay in the relationship. Or maybe I couldn't face the reality that I was being disrespected, that he didn't or couldn't care about me the way I wanted and needed. The disappointment was too much. So I tried to change myself, and I tried to change him. But nothing worked and things always went back to the same hurtful, disrespectful, unhealthy cycle. You see, the problem was that neither of us could be honest about how we really felt, and therefore could not be honest with each other.

This weekend I was finally honest - first with myself, then with him. I was honest with myself about feeling disappointed, disrespected, and wanting more. Then I went to him, and had one of the most honest and vulnerable conversations of my life. I'll sum it up in three points: 1. I told him that I love him. 2. He told me that he loves me. 3. He said, and I knew, that I am not what he wants. He has a very specific idea of the girl he wants to be with, and I do not match that picture. It was hard, it hurts, and I am sad; but I also have the peace of knowing that we were both honest. Maybe I didn't get what I wanted in him, but now I have the chance to get it from someone else. I might not believe in fairy-tales still (or yet, who knows), but I do have the hope again of finding love. You see, I have freed myself - actually, let's be honest: I don't really have the power to be honest like I was, that was all God. So I have rather been freed to believe that there is something more and better out there. Sure, I'm still jaded. But even a jadedness as deep and strong as mine can be redeemed, if only I will open myself to the honesty of who I am and what I want.

i'm an expert...

...at becoming great friends with guys.

How soon is too soon?

I have been thinking about this post for a little while now. But a question I have is "How soon can one date someone else after being dumped?" We all know my situation from 2 months ago. I dated for three months.

"The Situation" --not referring to that reality star from Jersey Shore--

In my case I want to be classy about things. It all depends on if you are the dumper or dumpie in most cases. What do you think? Does the Dumpie have a right to date first when the reason for the dumping is that of 'he just isn't that into you'? and if so why does the dumpie have that right? Or is it that the girl is always right? Because if any of us dumps a guy its for good reasons usually. Either the guy is a jerk for breaking up with you or he is a jerk and that's why you break up with him.

What I am asking is what do I do in my case? A friend from LA has been taking the initiative for me to think of him as more than a friend. But my problem is that I dated someone two months ago and think that it is socially unacceptable to like someone that soon. I mean he has worked really hard for my attention and I'm nervous that I could be possibly missing out on a great guy do to this situation. But at the same time I do not want to hurt the guy who dumped me by dating someone, much less even liking someone so soon!

Ladies of the BBB help!!

oh hey

I am going to be in LA the 28th-the 1st get pumped.

Calling Creators of the "25 Theory"

I think that one of you two needs to post said theory. I want to comment on it.

Well then...

...

Date. This Friday. I'm going on a date...with Ben Swisher. 

Just kidding. But seriously, date. Friday. 

Pounces...

I had a record high of TWO pounces this week. Yes girls...CrAzY!!! I was not the pouncer but the pouncie. I never saw it coming... I think the New Years attitude of living up your life and sappy lifetime holiday movies have gotten the best of everyone (at least boys in the central time zone). Let me explain and your thoughts are needed...

First pounce. Happened over a text message "hey i don't know if its because I'm tired or because I have liquor in me but I have feelings for you.." Sounds like a keeper no? Then later he admitted that he lied and said that he mentioned the liquor part because if I responded poorly then he could have that as an excuse?? Makes tons of sense right. Main point I didn't respond other than we will talk later but is it bad that I have no intention of talking with him later? I hope it is just a phase and it will pass. Nicole this is my guy friend who was dating the duck. So he is emotionally confused right now.

Second pounce. Just happened a few days ago. My family friend came in through Waco on his way to school up in the north west. We went to lunch and he offered to pay for my meal. This is no big deal because he is the typical southern gentleman and does this with basically any girl. So I am enjoying my burger and he proceeds to tell me his wild new years eve stories of him and his friends playing scrabble in his parents living room. Then as I take a big bite of the greasiest burger imaginable he tells me he likes me. And has for a while..... I almost choke. This one came out of the blue even more so than the first. I said a simple..."Thank you" while mouth is full of freshly slaughtered cow.

Sad thing is I see these to gentlemen as nothing more than good friends.

Reflections from 2009

I'm currently reading Don Miller's A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. It's a wonderful look into his own life and what it means to live a life worthy of a great story. I'll save the overview and critique for another time, but I will share an excerpt of a difficult breakup Miller experienced.

We were both passionate and strong-willed people, and this became our undoing. I won't go into details, because they are the same as a million other romantic disasters. Essentially, though, it felt like the Tower of Babel had been planted between us, because for no lack of effort, once we started arguing, we could no longer communicate our basic needs. Each failed attempt to talk things out became a wall between us, skin thick, so every conversation had the resonance of talking to yourself (190-191).

He says a little bit later concerning getting well over the suffering:

I didn't want to get well, because if I got well, nobody would come and save me anymore. And I didn't want to get well, because while I could not control my happiness, I could control my misery, and I would rather have had control than live in the tension of what if. A chance of hope is no pacifier against a sure tragedy (198).

The book is HARDLY about relationships and breakups and the politics of the playground, but I nonetheless connected in a strange way with the excerpt. I connected with it, because it seemed as if Don Miller reached into my heart and stole those words from me. ;) But the story did not elicit a public breakdown. Call me crazy, but I think a half-smile crept up on my face, as if to say "ha...that sounds vaguely familiar. Have I read this before?"

In short, I guess all I want to say is that time is a funny thing. Perhaps it's time to embrace my struggles/insecurities/shortcomings as part of a larger story. Perhaps this year I will trust God to, as Miller says, "guide me through a better story" (91).

PS, I think it is a WONDERFUL book, and very fitting to read at the start of 2010, a year full of new challenges and adventures.

PPS, hope I'm not too much of a downer today; this is the first time (since August) I've come across something (including my own disjointed thoughts, ha) that adequately expresses what happened. Then again, hindsight is 20/20...
(: