Hello again everyone! I am really dealing with some difficult stuff lately and I've been super busy ... so I haven't been updating you like I should.
So many terrible things have happened recently, both in my personal life and at work. Putting it all behind me, wearing a smile even when I'd like to scream, has been difficult. But I've risen up to the challenge and I know that when the dust settles, I will still have my integrity intact.But throughout all this, I learned a very valuable lesson -- several actually. But I thought I would take a few minutes to list things I am thankful for. This time of year brings about memories (some bad, mostly good) of all the things that have come before. Instead of wishing for what we don't have, we need to celebrate the small moments, the precious gifts we are given every day.
I am thankful for ...
My friends who always know how to make me laugh.My friend Gina always knows how to change the subject at just the right moment ...My friend Crystal always knows the right thing to say in every situation.My friend Sarah always has the brightest smile.My friend Liz moved away to Texas and took the biggest heart I've ever known with her. :) Miss you buddy ...
I am thankful for life; air; freedom; and justice-when the system works the way it's supposed to.
I am thankful for my co-workers for always making my life a little more colorful and give me something to look forward to each day at work.
I am thankful for my health. A few of you know that I was seriously ill in March and could have died. I am thankful for medicine and good dental care. :)
I am thankful for my dog Brinkley. Whenever I am upset, he will put his head in my lap to comfort me and will look at me with his big doggy eyes as if to say, "don't worry, Mommy. I'm right here so everything's gonna be all right."
I am thankful for my roommate and friend, Hazel. She has listened to me and been there for me during some of the most difficult times in my life...
I am thankful to have have a job; thankful to have a house with warm, comfortable blankets to crawl under when the weather gets cold.
I am thankful for Starbucks, coffee, hot tea and hot chocolate. I am especially thankful for those mini little marshmallows you put on top.
I am thankful for love. Even though it has not blessed my life, I am thankful to see that love still exists and it still makes people strive to be their best and still captures the hearts of the young. Love still makes the world go round ... even if we sometimes give love to the wrong people. Love still is Love ...
I am thankful to be blessed with people like you in my life. Each of you has touched my life in some way-either we grew up together or we met somehow along this journey. I am so thankful to have been blessed to know you.
I wish you all the best Thanksgiving ever this year ... I hope that you remember what you have to be thankful for.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Monday, October 01, 2007
Dating Tips For Guys (What Not To Do)
Good evening!
So I should be updating you on my workout plan / diet action ... but here's the deal: I have been struggling with a small cold for the past week or so. Just when I thought I've kicked it to the curb, it comes back with a nasty bite. So pray that my awesome immune system is able to conquer it once and for all. I have always been able to get over things pretty well or avoid getting sick. Hopefully, this cold will not conquer me...
Anyways, everyone knows that I have been dating people recently ... well in the last few months. I could probably write the book on bad dates. But I thought I would take a few moments to talk about things that have happened to me (mostly bad) as an example of things guys shouldn't do on a date ... with any girl. Girls, see if you can relate. If I missed one, feel free to add a comment with YOUR rule! I can't wait to read 'em. Guys, please don't get offended. I'm not saying you're a jerk or that you're going to do any of the following things. I'm just telling you things from my personal experiences that I plan to avoid in the future. I'm hopeful and positive that a great person exists out there and I plan to find him. I can't promise that it will ever work out, but I promise that I'm a good girl and I'll treat the guy right ...
With that in mind, here we go ...
THINGS NOT TO DO WHEN YOU DATE A GIRL:1) Don't let her pay for dinner on your first, second, or even third dates. Period. Even if the bill is very little and she insists. YOU insist on being the gentleman. She'll give in ... yeah, it seems sad in this day in age that you have to pay for things. But it's the first few dates. Be a gentleman. She'll appreciate you for it in the end.
2) Don't tell her you'll take her out on a date, but then say something like, "Well, we'll go out ... unless my dog gets sick" or "... unless I'm out of town that weekend."
3) Don't talk about things like all the "friends with benefits" relationships you've had in the past or want to have in the future. I promise you, she doesn't want to hear about it. Player.
4) Don't call her then suddenly remember something else you have to do like cutting your toenails and so you tell her you have to call her back. Really. If it's so important for you to talk to her, the toenail cutting or personal grooming items can wait. The way I see it is, I want to know where I'd fit on the list of their priorities. Knowing I'm second to the toenail clipping is NOT good for me.
5) The subject of kissing is delicate. Don't expect she is going to kiss you on the first date. She just met you. Maybe she'll kiss you if you've been friends for like 4 years or she has no values and is the type that gives in to whatever you want. Let me just say that a girl with values likes to take it slow, likes to enjoy each and every moment. Why rush into the kiss? The kiss is a magical moment and is meaningful. A bad kiss can often decide the fate of your chemistry. Kissing is like listening to a good song. You can't just jump into the chorus ... you have to build up slowly, and then comes the cresendo ... If you have built up your new-found "relationship" / "date" and you want to kiss her on the first date, please ask her, "can I kiss you?" or something cute. She'll tell you where she stands.
6) Open the door for her. Let her walk first through the restaurant. That's a nice thing to do. You are letting her know you respect her presence.
7) Don't ask a girl a question unless you plan on answering it yourself. Period. Sometimes a guy likes to play 20 questions with the girl, but then considers himself too "high and mighty" to answer the same questions. There are only so many basic questions, sparky.
8) Don't assume anything. Don't assume she likes sushi, for example, because she just might hate it. Don't assume that little Mexican place you've got all picked out for your romantic getaway evening is going to be just what she wants. Ask her the things she likes and listen to what she tells you.
9) She is not a sex toy. Sex is important. Don't ask her about her "interests" in an "adventurous sexual romp" with three people or about how many positions, etc. she likes to do or even her favorite methods / sexual behavior. Even those of us who like sex (sorry to be so personal) know that people who are good at it don't have to always talk about it. After all, is the reason you're talking about it because you're a bit insecure? Hmm...
10) Don't get drunk / high / above the legal limit on your first few dates. Let's be honest, our personalities change when we drink. If you have too much to drink, what do you think the other person is going to think of you? Not to mention the idea that you are meeting someone for the first time and are trying to make a good impression. Don't let the first impression they have of you be the impression of you being obnoxious at the bar or overly flirtatious or (much worse) the guy throwing up in the bathroom, and having lots of waiters tell your date how sick you are.
So these are just a few. I know you have some .... C'mon guys ...
And I thought I would leave you with another one a date did a few years back that has to top my list of things not to do ...
11) Don't ask a girl out on a date only to tell her when you get there that your parents (PARENTS) have already cooked you dinner.
That's all for now... your thoughts are precious. Write them down or lose them forever.
So I should be updating you on my workout plan / diet action ... but here's the deal: I have been struggling with a small cold for the past week or so. Just when I thought I've kicked it to the curb, it comes back with a nasty bite. So pray that my awesome immune system is able to conquer it once and for all. I have always been able to get over things pretty well or avoid getting sick. Hopefully, this cold will not conquer me...
Anyways, everyone knows that I have been dating people recently ... well in the last few months. I could probably write the book on bad dates. But I thought I would take a few moments to talk about things that have happened to me (mostly bad) as an example of things guys shouldn't do on a date ... with any girl. Girls, see if you can relate. If I missed one, feel free to add a comment with YOUR rule! I can't wait to read 'em. Guys, please don't get offended. I'm not saying you're a jerk or that you're going to do any of the following things. I'm just telling you things from my personal experiences that I plan to avoid in the future. I'm hopeful and positive that a great person exists out there and I plan to find him. I can't promise that it will ever work out, but I promise that I'm a good girl and I'll treat the guy right ...
With that in mind, here we go ...
THINGS NOT TO DO WHEN YOU DATE A GIRL:1) Don't let her pay for dinner on your first, second, or even third dates. Period. Even if the bill is very little and she insists. YOU insist on being the gentleman. She'll give in ... yeah, it seems sad in this day in age that you have to pay for things. But it's the first few dates. Be a gentleman. She'll appreciate you for it in the end.
2) Don't tell her you'll take her out on a date, but then say something like, "Well, we'll go out ... unless my dog gets sick" or "... unless I'm out of town that weekend."
3) Don't talk about things like all the "friends with benefits" relationships you've had in the past or want to have in the future. I promise you, she doesn't want to hear about it. Player.
4) Don't call her then suddenly remember something else you have to do like cutting your toenails and so you tell her you have to call her back. Really. If it's so important for you to talk to her, the toenail cutting or personal grooming items can wait. The way I see it is, I want to know where I'd fit on the list of their priorities. Knowing I'm second to the toenail clipping is NOT good for me.
5) The subject of kissing is delicate. Don't expect she is going to kiss you on the first date. She just met you. Maybe she'll kiss you if you've been friends for like 4 years or she has no values and is the type that gives in to whatever you want. Let me just say that a girl with values likes to take it slow, likes to enjoy each and every moment. Why rush into the kiss? The kiss is a magical moment and is meaningful. A bad kiss can often decide the fate of your chemistry. Kissing is like listening to a good song. You can't just jump into the chorus ... you have to build up slowly, and then comes the cresendo ... If you have built up your new-found "relationship" / "date" and you want to kiss her on the first date, please ask her, "can I kiss you?" or something cute. She'll tell you where she stands.
6) Open the door for her. Let her walk first through the restaurant. That's a nice thing to do. You are letting her know you respect her presence.
7) Don't ask a girl a question unless you plan on answering it yourself. Period. Sometimes a guy likes to play 20 questions with the girl, but then considers himself too "high and mighty" to answer the same questions. There are only so many basic questions, sparky.
8) Don't assume anything. Don't assume she likes sushi, for example, because she just might hate it. Don't assume that little Mexican place you've got all picked out for your romantic getaway evening is going to be just what she wants. Ask her the things she likes and listen to what she tells you.
9) She is not a sex toy. Sex is important. Don't ask her about her "interests" in an "adventurous sexual romp" with three people or about how many positions, etc. she likes to do or even her favorite methods / sexual behavior. Even those of us who like sex (sorry to be so personal) know that people who are good at it don't have to always talk about it. After all, is the reason you're talking about it because you're a bit insecure? Hmm...
10) Don't get drunk / high / above the legal limit on your first few dates. Let's be honest, our personalities change when we drink. If you have too much to drink, what do you think the other person is going to think of you? Not to mention the idea that you are meeting someone for the first time and are trying to make a good impression. Don't let the first impression they have of you be the impression of you being obnoxious at the bar or overly flirtatious or (much worse) the guy throwing up in the bathroom, and having lots of waiters tell your date how sick you are.
So these are just a few. I know you have some .... C'mon guys ...
And I thought I would leave you with another one a date did a few years back that has to top my list of things not to do ...
11) Don't ask a girl out on a date only to tell her when you get there that your parents (PARENTS) have already cooked you dinner.
That's all for now... your thoughts are precious. Write them down or lose them forever.
Friday, September 21, 2007
The Perfect Churro
In Search of The Perfect Churro--inspired by Denise a.k.a. "sugar and spice and everything nice."
I don't know about you, but finding a good churro is a difficult process.
Sometimes, you go to Costco and you get a churro there--because it's one of the only places you have seen churros. After all, where does everyone else find their churros?
You usually accept the churros you are given at Costco, no matter how bad they taste. You notice that there's not enough sugar on it, but you've already bought it, so you figure that the best thing you can do is keep eating it, hoping that it will eventually taste better. And you begin to doubt yourself. This is what a churro is supposed to taste like, you tell yourself. And yet, a part of you wishes for something more. A part of you wishes it was just a little bigger, a little hotter, had a little more sugar, had a little less sugar, or just was a little bit more satisfying and didn't leave you wanting something more.
There are times when the perfect thing comes from the most unexpected of places. When you buy a churro at say, El Pollo Loco, and you worry that with a name like "Crazy Chicken" the churro will reflect yet another poor choice you've made in food. Clearly, a place that specializes in chicken could not possibly make the best churro.
But sometimes, you are wrong. Sometimes, you fear the worst--but you buy the churro anyway. You reluctantly hand over your dollar and change, watching in horror as a quarter slips from your hand and falls to the ground-and now the churro that you were already doubting-cost more than you intended. You start to second-guess yourself. Is the churro going to be worth all the trouble?
You take a deep breath, and fish more change from your purse--hand it to the clerk, and wait patiently for what you expect will be yet another mundane experience. But it's not.
It didn't come in the best packaging and it didn't look like the best churro you'd ever seen-but you take a bite and in an instant, you realize that something you've never noticed before has suddenly become one of your favorite things. In that moment you take the bite, and then another, your expectations of what you thought it would be like melt away and complete satisfaction replaces all your worries and doubts.
You don't bother to notice your churro is smaller than the one you ate at Costco, or other churros you've eaten before ... you merely take the time to enjoy the experience for what it is. And suddenly, something on the menu that you've never noticed before, has become one of your favorite things.
The thing about is, it's really a great churro. It's just the way you like it-just hot enough, has enough sugar, and is crunchy on the outside and soft and chewy on the inside.
After you reluctantly finish your churro, you realize that now that you've had such an amazing churro, you can never again accept just any churro. Because now you know what a churro can be and how good it can taste when it's made right.
If you get a chance, find a good churro. Don't settle for too big or too small or too sweet or too hard. Find a good churro. You never know, you may just find something amazing in the "craziest" of places.
I don't know about you, but finding a good churro is a difficult process.
Sometimes, you go to Costco and you get a churro there--because it's one of the only places you have seen churros. After all, where does everyone else find their churros?
You usually accept the churros you are given at Costco, no matter how bad they taste. You notice that there's not enough sugar on it, but you've already bought it, so you figure that the best thing you can do is keep eating it, hoping that it will eventually taste better. And you begin to doubt yourself. This is what a churro is supposed to taste like, you tell yourself. And yet, a part of you wishes for something more. A part of you wishes it was just a little bigger, a little hotter, had a little more sugar, had a little less sugar, or just was a little bit more satisfying and didn't leave you wanting something more.
There are times when the perfect thing comes from the most unexpected of places. When you buy a churro at say, El Pollo Loco, and you worry that with a name like "Crazy Chicken" the churro will reflect yet another poor choice you've made in food. Clearly, a place that specializes in chicken could not possibly make the best churro.
But sometimes, you are wrong. Sometimes, you fear the worst--but you buy the churro anyway. You reluctantly hand over your dollar and change, watching in horror as a quarter slips from your hand and falls to the ground-and now the churro that you were already doubting-cost more than you intended. You start to second-guess yourself. Is the churro going to be worth all the trouble?
You take a deep breath, and fish more change from your purse--hand it to the clerk, and wait patiently for what you expect will be yet another mundane experience. But it's not.
It didn't come in the best packaging and it didn't look like the best churro you'd ever seen-but you take a bite and in an instant, you realize that something you've never noticed before has suddenly become one of your favorite things. In that moment you take the bite, and then another, your expectations of what you thought it would be like melt away and complete satisfaction replaces all your worries and doubts.
You don't bother to notice your churro is smaller than the one you ate at Costco, or other churros you've eaten before ... you merely take the time to enjoy the experience for what it is. And suddenly, something on the menu that you've never noticed before, has become one of your favorite things.
The thing about is, it's really a great churro. It's just the way you like it-just hot enough, has enough sugar, and is crunchy on the outside and soft and chewy on the inside.
After you reluctantly finish your churro, you realize that now that you've had such an amazing churro, you can never again accept just any churro. Because now you know what a churro can be and how good it can taste when it's made right.
If you get a chance, find a good churro. Don't settle for too big or too small or too sweet or too hard. Find a good churro. You never know, you may just find something amazing in the "craziest" of places.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Difficult Steps (ie Letting Go)
Anyone who knows me knows that I am almost a contradiction of personalities at times. I am outgoing and love to laugh, but am shy when it comes to meeting new people or flirting with guys. While some people have the innate ability to shamelessly flirt with people, I sit back in the wings and wait for things or people to come to me.
It's a wonder that I ever had the success I did at meeting both S and J (you know who they are) because they pursued me and my laid-back style really worked for me. They got to have the chase they wanted, and I didn't have to come out of my shell to make a move on them.
Another thing that is difficult for me is to let go of things I've been holding onto-both physically and emotionally. Before I start to sound like a basket case who needs psychiatric help, let me explain because it's not what it sounds like.
I have pretty much lived out of a box since I was sixteen. Actually, when I was sixteen, I had nothing--I went into the care of social services without so much as even a change of clothes. The clothes they ended up getting us were too big and horrible looking. Shauna ended up losing her favorite stuffed dog, Whopper. I still think about that. She used to take it with her everywhere. But I guess he wasn't meant to accompany us on the next part of our journey.
When we finally managed to get our things, I held onto them because it was all I had. Every time we changed places, I had to pack up my stuff again and move. Everything else, everything too big to carry, and sometimes things that meant a lot to me, were left behind. At one point, Mom found out where we were staying (she was a good detective with things like that) and called us-threatening to burn all of our stuff.
So when I finally stayed at a place for a few months or more, I kept everything. Plus, with moving around so much, friendships were fleeting. I'd make a new friend, share a few memories, then move away again. Pictures we'd taken or things we'd done were lost ... and a part of me was lost with them and left behind.
I think that's part of the reason I've felt so strange having lived where I do now for so long. I think a part of me is afraid that if I let this stuff go, the memory will be lost forever. So I've kept momentos of my travels for the past 14 years. But I've reached the point in my life where ... it's time to let it all go. It's time to let go of the fears and insecurity I've had about keeping it and it's time to remember that the one thing that has always been with me this whole time is me. And I'm not going to lose that. Even if there are no pictures of family that ever adorn my walls or photographic proof of where I've been, I'll still remember and I'll still have me.
This all may sound like common sense, but most people seem to have only moved once or twice in their lives. They don't know what it's like to live out of a box every year or wonder when the next move is going to happen. But I do.
So I feel as though I've become a true adult because I've started to get rid of it all ... stuff I don't need, stuff in boxes, stuff I'll never use. I have decided that less is more. Less is more. My room right now is completely torn apart. If it doesn't have a direct purpose, it's going in the trash. I feel better already.
The second step I've made is that ... I finally let go of someone who I've loved for a long time.
You know, I always tell people not to burn bridges. You never know when you're going to need someone. So you should always treat them with respect and kindness. Always. And I have the tendency to appreciate good things and want to keep them in my life. The funny thing is, sometimes something appears to be good, but really, is actually hurting you.
So my ex boyfriend, who I was desperately in love with but broke my heart, keeps coming around. He buys things for me and ... I haven't had the heart or the will to tell him no. Worse, he has a girlfriend and a six month old baby at home.
He doesn't come around like he used to. There are no fake hugs or perfunctory niceties that you'd expect from a couple who broke up and stayed friends. He plopped himself in my office and proceeded to tell me that he knew where my new "assignment" at work was going to be. The thing is, I had been offered this assignment and hadn't made up my mind to accept it or not. It would come with a ton more responsibilities, dangers, and difficult hours. In thinking about this, I had to decide what it was going to do to me. If you know me, you know that this job already takes a difficult toll. What would happen to my soul if I were to accept the job? As cheesy as this sounds, I am at my best when I am loved and supported. It's difficult to negate stress when I come home to a lonely life. I don't know how to explain it... that's just the way it is. So if I were to accept the responsibility, that girl I know -- the old me who is still clinging on to the life of being sweet, slightly naive but kind--would be replaced by the girl who is hardened, realistic, and forever changed by the sights I've seen.
Anyways, so he tells me that he'll "put in a good word" and this and that... and the thing is--where was he when I was going through a difficult dating situation a year ago? Where was he when I had to move my stuff from his house when he cheated on me? Where was he when I struggled at my job and didn't know what to do? Where was his friendship then? And now he just acts like he can drop on by whenever he wishes and pretend that he's still my good friend. Well, I'm not a friend of convenience.
The old me, the one that still loves him, wanted to make sense of it all. Why would he be doing those things for me? For what purpose? The old me, the one who also wanted to maintain the friendship, felt --even in the smallest way--loved.
But the new me, the one who feels as though I deserve to be treated well is like, WHAT is this? What is he doing? Why try to be my friend once in a while? And why on earth does he think I still need his help or welcome his "good word" to someone else? A lot of people know what happened even though I've tried to make it not that big of a deal.
Well, what made up my mind is this: the other day, another one of my co-workers approached me and started telling me all the funny stories about him in his new life: about dealing and adjusting with the new baby he and his girlfriend have just had. And I realized something important: despite his pretense that we are still friends, I am missing out on the best part of a good friendship--the part where I get to be a part of his life too. I'm not a part of his life. I don't get to hear about the baby laughing for the first time or taking steps for the first time. I don't get to hear about how he feels about life or how he's dealing with being a new parent. All I get, is the "I'll put in a good word for you" sort of half-hearted friendship--a friendship based solely out of guilt. He feels guilty for what happened. He's told me so. He's told me "I'm trying to make things right." But the truth of it all is, he'll never make things right. I don't know, to be honest, if that's possible.
So ... gathering up my courage, I pushed away the person in my head telling me that I still wanted him around. A part of me still wants that interaction, even if it's unhealthy for me. How crazy is that?!? (don't answer). I wrote him an e-mail (I could have never done this in person) and told him that I didn't want his "help" anymore. I didn't want his friendship. I told him that given the circumstances, friendship wasn't possible. I wished him the best of luck with his new life. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and hit the SEND button.
He called me later that night--didn't leave a message. I'm lucky that I was at a friend's party or I would have been tempted to pick up the phone. I'm so glad I didn't have to hear it ring. I guess his lack of a message is clear enough: there's nothing more to be said. I'm right and he knows it. We could have wasted another two years being polite.
Anyways, it was a difficult step. It's difficult to let things and people go. But sometimes, you have to cut away the fat in your life in order to be healthier, happier, and stronger.
All I can say is that ... I feel proud because I know that I have made steps in a positive direction. I will miss my things and I will miss my "friendship" with J. But let's face it, a half-hearted friendship isn't a friendship at all, and things you aren't using are merely pieces of junk that clutter your life.
Sometimes, you have to let things go ... and give yourself permission to live again.
It's a wonder that I ever had the success I did at meeting both S and J (you know who they are) because they pursued me and my laid-back style really worked for me. They got to have the chase they wanted, and I didn't have to come out of my shell to make a move on them.
Another thing that is difficult for me is to let go of things I've been holding onto-both physically and emotionally. Before I start to sound like a basket case who needs psychiatric help, let me explain because it's not what it sounds like.
I have pretty much lived out of a box since I was sixteen. Actually, when I was sixteen, I had nothing--I went into the care of social services without so much as even a change of clothes. The clothes they ended up getting us were too big and horrible looking. Shauna ended up losing her favorite stuffed dog, Whopper. I still think about that. She used to take it with her everywhere. But I guess he wasn't meant to accompany us on the next part of our journey.
When we finally managed to get our things, I held onto them because it was all I had. Every time we changed places, I had to pack up my stuff again and move. Everything else, everything too big to carry, and sometimes things that meant a lot to me, were left behind. At one point, Mom found out where we were staying (she was a good detective with things like that) and called us-threatening to burn all of our stuff.
So when I finally stayed at a place for a few months or more, I kept everything. Plus, with moving around so much, friendships were fleeting. I'd make a new friend, share a few memories, then move away again. Pictures we'd taken or things we'd done were lost ... and a part of me was lost with them and left behind.
I think that's part of the reason I've felt so strange having lived where I do now for so long. I think a part of me is afraid that if I let this stuff go, the memory will be lost forever. So I've kept momentos of my travels for the past 14 years. But I've reached the point in my life where ... it's time to let it all go. It's time to let go of the fears and insecurity I've had about keeping it and it's time to remember that the one thing that has always been with me this whole time is me. And I'm not going to lose that. Even if there are no pictures of family that ever adorn my walls or photographic proof of where I've been, I'll still remember and I'll still have me.
This all may sound like common sense, but most people seem to have only moved once or twice in their lives. They don't know what it's like to live out of a box every year or wonder when the next move is going to happen. But I do.
So I feel as though I've become a true adult because I've started to get rid of it all ... stuff I don't need, stuff in boxes, stuff I'll never use. I have decided that less is more. Less is more. My room right now is completely torn apart. If it doesn't have a direct purpose, it's going in the trash. I feel better already.
The second step I've made is that ... I finally let go of someone who I've loved for a long time.
You know, I always tell people not to burn bridges. You never know when you're going to need someone. So you should always treat them with respect and kindness. Always. And I have the tendency to appreciate good things and want to keep them in my life. The funny thing is, sometimes something appears to be good, but really, is actually hurting you.
So my ex boyfriend, who I was desperately in love with but broke my heart, keeps coming around. He buys things for me and ... I haven't had the heart or the will to tell him no. Worse, he has a girlfriend and a six month old baby at home.
He doesn't come around like he used to. There are no fake hugs or perfunctory niceties that you'd expect from a couple who broke up and stayed friends. He plopped himself in my office and proceeded to tell me that he knew where my new "assignment" at work was going to be. The thing is, I had been offered this assignment and hadn't made up my mind to accept it or not. It would come with a ton more responsibilities, dangers, and difficult hours. In thinking about this, I had to decide what it was going to do to me. If you know me, you know that this job already takes a difficult toll. What would happen to my soul if I were to accept the job? As cheesy as this sounds, I am at my best when I am loved and supported. It's difficult to negate stress when I come home to a lonely life. I don't know how to explain it... that's just the way it is. So if I were to accept the responsibility, that girl I know -- the old me who is still clinging on to the life of being sweet, slightly naive but kind--would be replaced by the girl who is hardened, realistic, and forever changed by the sights I've seen.
Anyways, so he tells me that he'll "put in a good word" and this and that... and the thing is--where was he when I was going through a difficult dating situation a year ago? Where was he when I had to move my stuff from his house when he cheated on me? Where was he when I struggled at my job and didn't know what to do? Where was his friendship then? And now he just acts like he can drop on by whenever he wishes and pretend that he's still my good friend. Well, I'm not a friend of convenience.
The old me, the one that still loves him, wanted to make sense of it all. Why would he be doing those things for me? For what purpose? The old me, the one who also wanted to maintain the friendship, felt --even in the smallest way--loved.
But the new me, the one who feels as though I deserve to be treated well is like, WHAT is this? What is he doing? Why try to be my friend once in a while? And why on earth does he think I still need his help or welcome his "good word" to someone else? A lot of people know what happened even though I've tried to make it not that big of a deal.
Well, what made up my mind is this: the other day, another one of my co-workers approached me and started telling me all the funny stories about him in his new life: about dealing and adjusting with the new baby he and his girlfriend have just had. And I realized something important: despite his pretense that we are still friends, I am missing out on the best part of a good friendship--the part where I get to be a part of his life too. I'm not a part of his life. I don't get to hear about the baby laughing for the first time or taking steps for the first time. I don't get to hear about how he feels about life or how he's dealing with being a new parent. All I get, is the "I'll put in a good word for you" sort of half-hearted friendship--a friendship based solely out of guilt. He feels guilty for what happened. He's told me so. He's told me "I'm trying to make things right." But the truth of it all is, he'll never make things right. I don't know, to be honest, if that's possible.
So ... gathering up my courage, I pushed away the person in my head telling me that I still wanted him around. A part of me still wants that interaction, even if it's unhealthy for me. How crazy is that?!? (don't answer). I wrote him an e-mail (I could have never done this in person) and told him that I didn't want his "help" anymore. I didn't want his friendship. I told him that given the circumstances, friendship wasn't possible. I wished him the best of luck with his new life. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and hit the SEND button.
He called me later that night--didn't leave a message. I'm lucky that I was at a friend's party or I would have been tempted to pick up the phone. I'm so glad I didn't have to hear it ring. I guess his lack of a message is clear enough: there's nothing more to be said. I'm right and he knows it. We could have wasted another two years being polite.
Anyways, it was a difficult step. It's difficult to let things and people go. But sometimes, you have to cut away the fat in your life in order to be healthier, happier, and stronger.
All I can say is that ... I feel proud because I know that I have made steps in a positive direction. I will miss my things and I will miss my "friendship" with J. But let's face it, a half-hearted friendship isn't a friendship at all, and things you aren't using are merely pieces of junk that clutter your life.
Sometimes, you have to let things go ... and give yourself permission to live again.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
The Power of Love
Okay, so if you're afraid of cheesie blogs, don't read this one. If, like me, there's a hidden romantic hidden in that heart of yours ... read on.
I am single. Lately, it seems that there's a stigma attached to that word. People have started to look at me funny when I say it. Almost as if they're asking themselves the silent question, what's wrong with her that she's not married yet? There's more to being single than having to check that box on all those stupid government / survey forms. Being single means being the odd one out at the movies-the one stuck in the middle of all the couples who want their space. Being single means not having a partner to sit on the ferris wheel with. Being single means that I'm on a journey, still searching.
It's difficult not to get a complex when dating. After you go through a certain number of dates you don't care for, you start to believe that it's just not out there; you're never going to find someone who makes your heart beat faster, takes the time to get to know you and who loves you for who you are. It's difficult not to believe that there's something wrong with you; you start to feel you're broken. Your friends tell you that you're too picky; you should stay with the person you have.
When I was with S, I spent years of my life almost satisfied. I had convinced myself that he was the best thing that was ever going to happen to me. And yet, I would often find my mind wandering to the idea of someone else-someone a little more romantic, a little more loving, a little ... different. When I first started spending time with J, I had hoped he'd convince me that staying with S was the right thing to do. Only, he had no idea the impact he would have on me.
Up until then, I was sure that I was the one making a mistake-it was my fault for keeping that part of myself hidden. For he had never truly understood me or taken the time to truly get to know and love me. I considered the idea that love was impossible. And then J changed my mind.
From our first meetings, we were just friends. There was no false hope or sentimental ideals in our getting together. We were simply two people and he was trying to help me make sense of my confused heart. But it wasn't so much what he said that turned my heart ... it was the little things that he did that turned the world I had known-upside down. He'd make me tea after a long evening at school, and it would be hot and ready for me when I got there.
It was the fact that he knew in his heart that such a little thing would be so welcome to me that impressed me. He didn't have to brag about himself or sell himself to me. He'd make me lunch for my next day, and without saying a word, would hand it to me on my way out the door.
"What's this?" I would ask. "I made you lunch." He'd say quietly, handing me a brown bag bulging with unknown items. He didn't brag about it or make a big deal. It was just something that he did because he had thought about me enough to do it.When he saw how stressed I was about things, he'd offer to talk to me or would make silly jokes to calm me down. He'd spend hours sitting with me, just to make me feel better.
Those little insignificant things made me realize that love was possible. Real love, the kind that lasts forever. It wasn't about what kind of car he drove or how much money he made. I loved him for who he was.
I loved his silly collection of Japanese swords and trinkets, his knowledge of computers, and the gentle way that he looked after me. Once, when we came back to the house that S and I shared, he saw it was in disarray. I had become disheartened and stopped doing the cleaning. Without my work, S hadn't done a thing. J was dressed up; he had come from work. He rolled up his sleeves, grabbed a washcloth, and helped me clean the entire house. He didn't ask for a thing in return. He simply marveled at the fact that S had not lifted a finger to help me. His act of complete kindness has never left my heart. Years later, I still look back upon those times and remember how easy it was to fall in love with him.
Lately, I have found myself discouraged with dating. Kindness in the way that J was seems to be a lost art, destined only for those lucky individuals who have managed to find love. But just as I am about to give up, I see love before me.
A friend of mine was married yesterday. I felt terrible before the wedding, and was determined not to go. My stomach felt sick, my head felt like a thousand horses trampling me, and yet I somehow pulled myself out of bed, grabbed an old dress, and made my way to her wedding. There, right before my eyes, I saw love again. Not fake, superficial love, but real love. I have gotten enormously good at reading lips for some reason. This comes to a point here in a second as I compose my thoughts ... I got to see everyone start to walk down the isle. Suddenly the triumphant sound of a wedding march started and I saw Sarah, a giant grin on her face, make her way down the isle. When she saw me, the single girl at the end of the isle, she smiled even wider. She proudly stepped forward and took her place next to her groom. At some point, as they stood before the pastor, he looked at her, took his hand in hers, and I could see his lips ask her, "Are you ready?" Such simple words, with such an incredible impact on me. It was as if there was no one else in the world there but two people who had eyes only for one another.
That, my friends, is true love. A simple act of putting the other person's happiness and well-being before your own or thinking of them in such a way as to care about them.
Unfortunately, I was originally going to go with someone. But I felt bad and didn't want him to have to drive so far at the last minute. But the truth of it all is, I think I was meant to go alone. Had I not gone alone, I would not have been able to listen as I did and my heart stilled by watching something so magical happen. I would have been too worried about my own thoughts or feelings to really listen to the sound of love.
Sometimes, when I watch a good movie or I see a wedding as powerful as this one was, I am reminded in the power of real love-and of the idea that in its true form, love is a most glorious, powerful thing. It doesn't matter how old you are, how young, how fat, how thin, how weak, or how strong. It doesn't matter what your friends say or what they don't say. All that matters is the fact that you have the admiration and adulation of that other person. God blesses such things.
I still see people who have the gift I am talking about. A certain someone made an impression on me a long time ago and I don't think I will ever forget it. It was such a simple act of kindness, that I know he will never know how much I appreciate him-even if he will never know I exist.
Some months back, a ... I guess I'll call him a friend, because if I say "co-worker" everyone will figure out who I'm talking about. A friend of mine was talking to me, and has always been very aloof but professional. There's nothing that could draw us together as we get very few opportunities to touch on personal subjects. There doesn't seem to be a place for that in our line of work. But sometimes I wish ...
Anyways, as we talked about one of my "clients" he said, "How does he treat you? Does he treat you okay?" in the way a big brother might ask his little sister. "He treats me all right." I think I managed to answer. I was simply taken aback by his question. It was the first time in a long time, that someone had asked about my well being. This went beyond the superficiality of everyday conversations or fake "how are yous?". This was about how I was being treated. Looking back, I wonder what he would have said if I had told him that he treated me poorly. Would he have defended me or done something to change how I was treated? That one question made a huge impact on me, and I don't think this person will ever have a clue that one question could make such a difference in my life. This person has since continued to amaze me in small ways. Though he will probably never realize that I exist, for reasons I have not yet articulated, he has managed to also make me remember what it is I am looking for in another person. Something so simple and yet so difficult to find.
The other thing is, a person so wonderful as this is often sought by others who might not be able to articulate their worth but find them valuable all the same. Often, those people are more beautiful than myself. It's a small chance to find someone such as this and actually have them like you as much as you do them. That is what makes love such a magical thing-so that when you do find it, you hold on to it, and don't let it go.
I believe that real love is possible. The kind that hopefully lasts longer than a couple of years when the feeling of "newness" wears off. The kind that makes your heart go pitter-patter and your feeling of love grow. People have often said that when you find the right person, you just know that it's right and I believe them. Love is possible. You just have to find someone who is ready for the magic to happen ...
I often pray that God gives me the strength to continue this journey I am on. I pray that he will help me find the right person so that I may be even happier in my life. Seeing others find love, including witnessing that miracle at my friend's wedding last night, is almost enough to keep me going. It's almost enough to remind me that love is worth waiting for. It's almost enough to know that I found love one time in my life, and it's almost enough to know that great things are possible. If only my heart could convince me that almost was good enough ... For I will never completely be satisfied with that.
To all of you still on that journey, I applaud you. I applaud your courage in waiting for the right person, and in not settling for just anyone who comes along. Good things come to those who wait, or so it is said, and I hope that you find the person who loves you and makes you happy. So when you find that person who treats you questionably, or makes you wonder what their motives are, who moves too fast, who moves too slow, who puts you down but claims they love you, remember that you deserve better. You deserve to go out on dates and have a good time. You deserve to be caught up in the passion of romance, even by someone who's not romantic. You deserve to be loved for all your flaws and strange quirks. You deserve to have someone amazing.
You deserve real love. You deserve to be happy, even if it is for a fleeting moment in time. Wait for it ... wait for it to scoop you up and show you its passion. Wait for it to make a believer out of you ... and to show you, even for a moment, that any dream in this life is possible.
I am single. Lately, it seems that there's a stigma attached to that word. People have started to look at me funny when I say it. Almost as if they're asking themselves the silent question, what's wrong with her that she's not married yet? There's more to being single than having to check that box on all those stupid government / survey forms. Being single means being the odd one out at the movies-the one stuck in the middle of all the couples who want their space. Being single means not having a partner to sit on the ferris wheel with. Being single means that I'm on a journey, still searching.
It's difficult not to get a complex when dating. After you go through a certain number of dates you don't care for, you start to believe that it's just not out there; you're never going to find someone who makes your heart beat faster, takes the time to get to know you and who loves you for who you are. It's difficult not to believe that there's something wrong with you; you start to feel you're broken. Your friends tell you that you're too picky; you should stay with the person you have.
When I was with S, I spent years of my life almost satisfied. I had convinced myself that he was the best thing that was ever going to happen to me. And yet, I would often find my mind wandering to the idea of someone else-someone a little more romantic, a little more loving, a little ... different. When I first started spending time with J, I had hoped he'd convince me that staying with S was the right thing to do. Only, he had no idea the impact he would have on me.
Up until then, I was sure that I was the one making a mistake-it was my fault for keeping that part of myself hidden. For he had never truly understood me or taken the time to truly get to know and love me. I considered the idea that love was impossible. And then J changed my mind.
From our first meetings, we were just friends. There was no false hope or sentimental ideals in our getting together. We were simply two people and he was trying to help me make sense of my confused heart. But it wasn't so much what he said that turned my heart ... it was the little things that he did that turned the world I had known-upside down. He'd make me tea after a long evening at school, and it would be hot and ready for me when I got there.
It was the fact that he knew in his heart that such a little thing would be so welcome to me that impressed me. He didn't have to brag about himself or sell himself to me. He'd make me lunch for my next day, and without saying a word, would hand it to me on my way out the door.
"What's this?" I would ask. "I made you lunch." He'd say quietly, handing me a brown bag bulging with unknown items. He didn't brag about it or make a big deal. It was just something that he did because he had thought about me enough to do it.When he saw how stressed I was about things, he'd offer to talk to me or would make silly jokes to calm me down. He'd spend hours sitting with me, just to make me feel better.
Those little insignificant things made me realize that love was possible. Real love, the kind that lasts forever. It wasn't about what kind of car he drove or how much money he made. I loved him for who he was.
I loved his silly collection of Japanese swords and trinkets, his knowledge of computers, and the gentle way that he looked after me. Once, when we came back to the house that S and I shared, he saw it was in disarray. I had become disheartened and stopped doing the cleaning. Without my work, S hadn't done a thing. J was dressed up; he had come from work. He rolled up his sleeves, grabbed a washcloth, and helped me clean the entire house. He didn't ask for a thing in return. He simply marveled at the fact that S had not lifted a finger to help me. His act of complete kindness has never left my heart. Years later, I still look back upon those times and remember how easy it was to fall in love with him.
Lately, I have found myself discouraged with dating. Kindness in the way that J was seems to be a lost art, destined only for those lucky individuals who have managed to find love. But just as I am about to give up, I see love before me.
A friend of mine was married yesterday. I felt terrible before the wedding, and was determined not to go. My stomach felt sick, my head felt like a thousand horses trampling me, and yet I somehow pulled myself out of bed, grabbed an old dress, and made my way to her wedding. There, right before my eyes, I saw love again. Not fake, superficial love, but real love. I have gotten enormously good at reading lips for some reason. This comes to a point here in a second as I compose my thoughts ... I got to see everyone start to walk down the isle. Suddenly the triumphant sound of a wedding march started and I saw Sarah, a giant grin on her face, make her way down the isle. When she saw me, the single girl at the end of the isle, she smiled even wider. She proudly stepped forward and took her place next to her groom. At some point, as they stood before the pastor, he looked at her, took his hand in hers, and I could see his lips ask her, "Are you ready?" Such simple words, with such an incredible impact on me. It was as if there was no one else in the world there but two people who had eyes only for one another.
That, my friends, is true love. A simple act of putting the other person's happiness and well-being before your own or thinking of them in such a way as to care about them.
Unfortunately, I was originally going to go with someone. But I felt bad and didn't want him to have to drive so far at the last minute. But the truth of it all is, I think I was meant to go alone. Had I not gone alone, I would not have been able to listen as I did and my heart stilled by watching something so magical happen. I would have been too worried about my own thoughts or feelings to really listen to the sound of love.
Sometimes, when I watch a good movie or I see a wedding as powerful as this one was, I am reminded in the power of real love-and of the idea that in its true form, love is a most glorious, powerful thing. It doesn't matter how old you are, how young, how fat, how thin, how weak, or how strong. It doesn't matter what your friends say or what they don't say. All that matters is the fact that you have the admiration and adulation of that other person. God blesses such things.
I still see people who have the gift I am talking about. A certain someone made an impression on me a long time ago and I don't think I will ever forget it. It was such a simple act of kindness, that I know he will never know how much I appreciate him-even if he will never know I exist.
Some months back, a ... I guess I'll call him a friend, because if I say "co-worker" everyone will figure out who I'm talking about. A friend of mine was talking to me, and has always been very aloof but professional. There's nothing that could draw us together as we get very few opportunities to touch on personal subjects. There doesn't seem to be a place for that in our line of work. But sometimes I wish ...
Anyways, as we talked about one of my "clients" he said, "How does he treat you? Does he treat you okay?" in the way a big brother might ask his little sister. "He treats me all right." I think I managed to answer. I was simply taken aback by his question. It was the first time in a long time, that someone had asked about my well being. This went beyond the superficiality of everyday conversations or fake "how are yous?". This was about how I was being treated. Looking back, I wonder what he would have said if I had told him that he treated me poorly. Would he have defended me or done something to change how I was treated? That one question made a huge impact on me, and I don't think this person will ever have a clue that one question could make such a difference in my life. This person has since continued to amaze me in small ways. Though he will probably never realize that I exist, for reasons I have not yet articulated, he has managed to also make me remember what it is I am looking for in another person. Something so simple and yet so difficult to find.
The other thing is, a person so wonderful as this is often sought by others who might not be able to articulate their worth but find them valuable all the same. Often, those people are more beautiful than myself. It's a small chance to find someone such as this and actually have them like you as much as you do them. That is what makes love such a magical thing-so that when you do find it, you hold on to it, and don't let it go.
I believe that real love is possible. The kind that hopefully lasts longer than a couple of years when the feeling of "newness" wears off. The kind that makes your heart go pitter-patter and your feeling of love grow. People have often said that when you find the right person, you just know that it's right and I believe them. Love is possible. You just have to find someone who is ready for the magic to happen ...
I often pray that God gives me the strength to continue this journey I am on. I pray that he will help me find the right person so that I may be even happier in my life. Seeing others find love, including witnessing that miracle at my friend's wedding last night, is almost enough to keep me going. It's almost enough to remind me that love is worth waiting for. It's almost enough to know that I found love one time in my life, and it's almost enough to know that great things are possible. If only my heart could convince me that almost was good enough ... For I will never completely be satisfied with that.
To all of you still on that journey, I applaud you. I applaud your courage in waiting for the right person, and in not settling for just anyone who comes along. Good things come to those who wait, or so it is said, and I hope that you find the person who loves you and makes you happy. So when you find that person who treats you questionably, or makes you wonder what their motives are, who moves too fast, who moves too slow, who puts you down but claims they love you, remember that you deserve better. You deserve to go out on dates and have a good time. You deserve to be caught up in the passion of romance, even by someone who's not romantic. You deserve to be loved for all your flaws and strange quirks. You deserve to have someone amazing.
You deserve real love. You deserve to be happy, even if it is for a fleeting moment in time. Wait for it ... wait for it to scoop you up and show you its passion. Wait for it to make a believer out of you ... and to show you, even for a moment, that any dream in this life is possible.
Sunday, September 09, 2007
What I Want!
Everyone has been asking me this question lately. So I thought I would take a moment out and put this to rest once and for all. Yes, I am still single ... still searching for that person who is going to add something wonderful to my life.
I am happy being alone. I don't need someone to make my life complete. My life is complete. However, there are so many things I would like to share with someone, so many things I could offer and bring to a relationship.
It seems like there are so many things that you can't do alone... or you can do them alone, but the experience just isn't the same. Like going to the movies. Sure, you can sit in the air conditioned room all by yourself, but it's much more fun when shared with another person. That's how I feel about life and relationships. It's okay by itself, but it's so much more enjoyable with someone else.
With that in mind ... here's an estimate of what I want. No one is going to fit in a little box of my expectations. That's why you won't see me talking about looks or any of that. I don't care what you look like. I care who you are. When we die ... no one is going to care what you look like. All you are going to leave behind is the memory of the person you were and the legacy of the things you did.
So here we go: I want someone who can make me laugh. Someone who will laugh at my silly jokes and someone with a good sense of humor. I don't mean someone who likes to make fun of other people. I don't find that kind of humor funny. It's different if you point out absurdities in people in general, but I don't like putting down people. It's not fun.
I want someone who is nice to me, who acts like a gentleman. They open doors because they want to, because it's in their nature, not because they know it will score points with me.
It would be nice to have someone who takes care of me the way I take care of them. If they've had a long day, I have been known to whip up a great dinner and finish it with a day of pampering him. I would love the same in return.
I would love to find someone who understands me, who I could talk to, who takes the time out to get to know the things I like and what I'm interested in. I'd appreciate the person who could help me work out problems I have without passing judgement or telling me how many ways I did it wrong. I want someone who's solution-oriented and not blame-oriented.
I want someone with confidence --someone who knows what they want and isn't afraid to go after it. Someone who is happy with themselves but always striving to be a better person. Someone who isn't afraid to tell you they're sorry or that they've made a mistake.
I want someone who doesn't give in to everything I want, and someone who has an opinion of their own. It is so refreshing to meet a guy on a date who already knows where he plans to take you. I can find something to eat at any restaurant-just pick a place, and let's check it out together.
I want someone who is kind to others and who is kind to me. I don't want someone who puts me down-even if we are disagreeing with each other. I want to know I can tell him anything and he will still love and respect me.
I want someone who likes animals-especially dogs. I want someone who isn't afraid to do a little cleaning once in a while and knows how to clean up after himself.
I want someone who's honest, who can tell me the truth, and someone who is loyal. Trust is important. I need someone as commited to me as I will be to them. I don't ever want to have to question my faith or my trust in the other person.
I'd really like to have someone I could talk to about things; someone who is interesting, who actually knows what's going on in the world or has something to say. It's always amazing to me when I meet someone who's intelliegent and pays attention to issues and likes to talk about them, or even someone who likes to ponder "what ifs".
Finally, I need someone who isn't stupidly superficial. We're all superficial to a point. Someone down to earth, easy to talk to, who knows that there is more to life than "things" and "money."
I'm sure I have more stuff... but that's all I'll say for now. Perhaps I'll add more to it as I think about it.
Meanwhile, I figure it's only fair to tell you what I have to offer. I mean, life is short, right? Sometimes we don't give each other the opportunities we need to show each other how great we are.
So here goes: I'm the kind of girl who would drive 100 miles to bring you soup if you were sick. I'm the kind of girl who would listen to you talk for hours if you were having a problem.
I'm the kind of girl that would wake up early to drive you to the airport, without complaint. I'm the kind of girl who would jump in the car with you and go on an overnight adventure to just about anywhere.
I'm the kind of girl who likes the cheesy walks on the beach and looking at sunsets. I have been known to stare up into the constellations a time or two looking for that falling star ... I am the kind of girl who loves romance and loves everything that comes along with that (yes, even sex)...
I love sweet things, but not necessarily chocolate. I love animals, but not cats. I drive a fast car, but try to stay safe all the same ... I love to laugh, love to have fun, and love to be silly a time or two.
I love kids and plan to be a great parent someday. But I don't want a "baby's daddy" or a one night stand to get one. I want someone who is as committed, caring, and ready as I am (preferrably after marriage)...
That's who I am. That's what I have to offer. That's what I'm looking for.I hope that I eventually find someone who is interested in continuing this journey with me ... and maybe we can sail together on this silly ocean we call Life.
Cheers and hugs to you all!
I am happy being alone. I don't need someone to make my life complete. My life is complete. However, there are so many things I would like to share with someone, so many things I could offer and bring to a relationship.
It seems like there are so many things that you can't do alone... or you can do them alone, but the experience just isn't the same. Like going to the movies. Sure, you can sit in the air conditioned room all by yourself, but it's much more fun when shared with another person. That's how I feel about life and relationships. It's okay by itself, but it's so much more enjoyable with someone else.
With that in mind ... here's an estimate of what I want. No one is going to fit in a little box of my expectations. That's why you won't see me talking about looks or any of that. I don't care what you look like. I care who you are. When we die ... no one is going to care what you look like. All you are going to leave behind is the memory of the person you were and the legacy of the things you did.
So here we go: I want someone who can make me laugh. Someone who will laugh at my silly jokes and someone with a good sense of humor. I don't mean someone who likes to make fun of other people. I don't find that kind of humor funny. It's different if you point out absurdities in people in general, but I don't like putting down people. It's not fun.
I want someone who is nice to me, who acts like a gentleman. They open doors because they want to, because it's in their nature, not because they know it will score points with me.
It would be nice to have someone who takes care of me the way I take care of them. If they've had a long day, I have been known to whip up a great dinner and finish it with a day of pampering him. I would love the same in return.
I would love to find someone who understands me, who I could talk to, who takes the time out to get to know the things I like and what I'm interested in. I'd appreciate the person who could help me work out problems I have without passing judgement or telling me how many ways I did it wrong. I want someone who's solution-oriented and not blame-oriented.
I want someone with confidence --someone who knows what they want and isn't afraid to go after it. Someone who is happy with themselves but always striving to be a better person. Someone who isn't afraid to tell you they're sorry or that they've made a mistake.
I want someone who doesn't give in to everything I want, and someone who has an opinion of their own. It is so refreshing to meet a guy on a date who already knows where he plans to take you. I can find something to eat at any restaurant-just pick a place, and let's check it out together.
I want someone who is kind to others and who is kind to me. I don't want someone who puts me down-even if we are disagreeing with each other. I want to know I can tell him anything and he will still love and respect me.
I want someone who likes animals-especially dogs. I want someone who isn't afraid to do a little cleaning once in a while and knows how to clean up after himself.
I want someone who's honest, who can tell me the truth, and someone who is loyal. Trust is important. I need someone as commited to me as I will be to them. I don't ever want to have to question my faith or my trust in the other person.
I'd really like to have someone I could talk to about things; someone who is interesting, who actually knows what's going on in the world or has something to say. It's always amazing to me when I meet someone who's intelliegent and pays attention to issues and likes to talk about them, or even someone who likes to ponder "what ifs".
Finally, I need someone who isn't stupidly superficial. We're all superficial to a point. Someone down to earth, easy to talk to, who knows that there is more to life than "things" and "money."
I'm sure I have more stuff... but that's all I'll say for now. Perhaps I'll add more to it as I think about it.
Meanwhile, I figure it's only fair to tell you what I have to offer. I mean, life is short, right? Sometimes we don't give each other the opportunities we need to show each other how great we are.
So here goes: I'm the kind of girl who would drive 100 miles to bring you soup if you were sick. I'm the kind of girl who would listen to you talk for hours if you were having a problem.
I'm the kind of girl that would wake up early to drive you to the airport, without complaint. I'm the kind of girl who would jump in the car with you and go on an overnight adventure to just about anywhere.
I'm the kind of girl who likes the cheesy walks on the beach and looking at sunsets. I have been known to stare up into the constellations a time or two looking for that falling star ... I am the kind of girl who loves romance and loves everything that comes along with that (yes, even sex)...
I love sweet things, but not necessarily chocolate. I love animals, but not cats. I drive a fast car, but try to stay safe all the same ... I love to laugh, love to have fun, and love to be silly a time or two.
I love kids and plan to be a great parent someday. But I don't want a "baby's daddy" or a one night stand to get one. I want someone who is as committed, caring, and ready as I am (preferrably after marriage)...
That's who I am. That's what I have to offer. That's what I'm looking for.I hope that I eventually find someone who is interested in continuing this journey with me ... and maybe we can sail together on this silly ocean we call Life.
Cheers and hugs to you all!
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Rehab
Since when did it become trendy to go to rehab? It seems like everyone is doing it these days from Spears and Winehouse to Wilson. Even people I know are coming and going into rehab. There are even songs about going to rehab and it's played on the local popular radio stations at least once a day!
What bothers me the most is that it's become so commonplace that people talk about it as if it were an everyday occurrance and nothing out of the ordinary. "What have you been up to?" Answer: "I went to rehab, I blah blah blah." Worse, we are actually expected as a society to embrace it and congratulate those who go as if it is a step in a positive direction.
But since when have we become a society that looks up to, or idealizes, addictions and the necessity of going to rehab? What happened? Are people really so bored with their mundane lives that they need to be broken in order to feel alive?
How can we encourage our children, our family, our neighbors, our friends that these are bad things when it's depicted in such a way by the local media?
We scoff and laugh at people like Paris Hilton who "can't make it" in jail, but we forget the point: she went to jail for breaking the law! And by focusing on her as much as we do, we are sending a message that lets everyone know that negative behavior will get you more attention. Drinking will get you attention, but drinking in excess will get you more. Breaking the law will get you attention, but breaking the law and making a scene will give you more.
It's strange to think that instead of focusing on the problem, we actually encourage it. Suddenly, it's the new thing, like the pair of sunglasses that "everyone is getting."
Now just to clarify, I am not desparaging normal people who suffer from addictions and use rehab to their benefit. I am merely noting that suddenly, people going to "rehab" has suddenly become like an epidemic and is getting out of control.
Maybe we should focus on showing more of how dangerous addictions are to the public, rather than idealizing a life in excess. Maybe then, we won't appear hypocritical to our children because we will lead by example and won't just do what's "trendy" but we'll actually do what's right.
What bothers me the most is that it's become so commonplace that people talk about it as if it were an everyday occurrance and nothing out of the ordinary. "What have you been up to?" Answer: "I went to rehab, I blah blah blah." Worse, we are actually expected as a society to embrace it and congratulate those who go as if it is a step in a positive direction.
But since when have we become a society that looks up to, or idealizes, addictions and the necessity of going to rehab? What happened? Are people really so bored with their mundane lives that they need to be broken in order to feel alive?
How can we encourage our children, our family, our neighbors, our friends that these are bad things when it's depicted in such a way by the local media?
We scoff and laugh at people like Paris Hilton who "can't make it" in jail, but we forget the point: she went to jail for breaking the law! And by focusing on her as much as we do, we are sending a message that lets everyone know that negative behavior will get you more attention. Drinking will get you attention, but drinking in excess will get you more. Breaking the law will get you attention, but breaking the law and making a scene will give you more.
It's strange to think that instead of focusing on the problem, we actually encourage it. Suddenly, it's the new thing, like the pair of sunglasses that "everyone is getting."
Now just to clarify, I am not desparaging normal people who suffer from addictions and use rehab to their benefit. I am merely noting that suddenly, people going to "rehab" has suddenly become like an epidemic and is getting out of control.
Maybe we should focus on showing more of how dangerous addictions are to the public, rather than idealizing a life in excess. Maybe then, we won't appear hypocritical to our children because we will lead by example and won't just do what's "trendy" but we'll actually do what's right.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Knowing The Real Me
I have a lot to say. For those of you who are afraid by long blogs, beware…
I live in a state I have called my home for nine years now. There is no one in my family nearby, and I have thus far forged my path here alone. But sometimes I picture what it would be like to return home. Somehow, I always imagined the perfect life during the holidays … Of course I'd drive home, from whatever adventure I had just completed. I'd make it home first.
Dad would, of course, be out running errands-getting firewood for the stove or salt for the sidewalk. Mom would be waiting, the soft sounds of Frank Sinatra's Christmas playing in the living room. The kitchen, as always, is a mess. The counter-tops are covered with every type of baking material possible. Her hair's disheveled, her clothes don't match, and she has no makeup on. But her smile that lights up her face when I arrive at the door, makes her beautiful.
It smells like cinnamon and bread and the house is warm and cozy. It has not yet begun to snow, but the air is thick and the ominous clouds foretell a white blanket will soon cover the ground. I stamp my feet to remove the dirt, and Mom ushers me inside.
Pretty soon, Shauna will show up. She'll probably bring her boyfriend with her-a guy I have yet to meet. She met him somewhere in Europe, I think, when she was on the "vacation of a lifetime" as she called it. He's got an accent I hear and has a sort of old-fashioned charm with modern style. I can't wait to meet him, and see if he's good enough for my little sister.
I'm still single, but that's okay. My search has yet to result in any tangible proof that God is working on someone great for me. Of course Mom asks about it again, but dismisses it when she sees that talking about it bothers me. "Don't worry, you'll find him. I'm sure of it." She assures me. Then she asks about my job and I launch into the latest boring dissertation of the latest in law enforcement.
About this time, there's movement at the door. I hear the door close quickly and the unmistakeable sound of cursing. "Someone's damn car is parked the front of our house again." He says annoyed. But then he sees me and realizes that it's mine. He scoops me up in a rough but warm hug, practically lifting me off the ground. Then he sets me down again and says, "Hey Angel. I didn't realize you'd be here so soon." "I couldn't wait to get here." I reply. Pretty soon, Mom and Dad are bickering over something small, but then laugh about it when I give them a strange look that betrays my thoughts that they are a lovely couple despite their shortcomings and petty arguments. Because underneath it all, they are fighting because they care about making everything "just so" for when Shauna and I come every year. Underneath it all, is their love for us.
Not much time passes by before Dad inquires about my financial status and how well I'm doing. I confess that buying presents has left me more worse for wear than I had intended. Dad promises to help me pay for my car insurance at the beginning of the year. "You can't let that lapse, you know honey. It's important." He shakes his newspaper, straightening it, and then launches into his latest stand on recent politics and the state of the economy.
Unfortunately, my real family is nothing like the one I so often picture. A long time ago, I made decisions that were supposed to help my situation, not make it worse. It has taken me years to realize what it is I am doing here in California and why I chose so long ago to run away. When I chose to leave my home at sixteen, I hoped that I would leave behind my old life and everything that came with it. I wanted to abandon my real family and with it, all hopes that the "semi-perfect" family I'd envisioned would one day because at least a small possibility.
But, years later, I continue to struggle with many of the things I purposely left behind. I struggle with decisions I am not sure I am strong enough to make and thoughts in my head that seem to have no escape.
Mom continues to drink, even after all these years-even after the cancer, even after it has driven away countless people from her life. She doesn't think she has a problem. Perhaps she has convinced herself thoroughly, or perhaps her drinking problem is my imagination.
Whatever the case, I will never forget her trips to the bar when I was younger, her "overnights" to whatever boyfriend she chose that month, and her constant torture of me and my sister. She continues to be in my life to this day. We had thus far, established the sort of relationship with clear boundaries. We must set boundaries to avoid the subjects that are like open wounds that may never close. We must have boundaries so that, on some level, I can have the mom I've always wanted.
The only problem with that is, I am me. I am person that Mom doesn't know. She only knows the scared, frightened girl I used to be-the one who always pretended to be what she wanted me to be so she wouldn't hit me. I pretended to agree with her most of the time, I pretended to agree with her when she told me what an awful person I was, and along the way, traded a piece of my soul for a few moments of grace and peace. Because, as long as I pretended, she could never touch me. She could never reach my soul or my heart. She could never touch my optimism, my generosity, or my faith that one day, things would be better.
Today, I think she is still caught between the person I am and the person I pretended to be then. The person I am today does not agree with her lifestyle or the way she chooses to live. If it were anyone else, I would merely stop spending time with her because I know that spending time with people who are a negative influence on you bring you down. The real me wants to do what I always do: fix things, make things better. My natural ability to sense what's wrong and try to make it right has no place in our mother-daughter relationship. She is the person who drowns her sorrow in alcohol, and I'm the girl she doesn't understand.
To her, I am supposed to be supportive. I am supposed to listen to her go on and on about her failed relationships, her bad decisions, and her desperate implorations for money. All the while, I can hear the sound of ice cubes hitting the edge of the glass. I don't have to ask what she's drinking; I already know. Most of the time when we speak, I try my best to keep our conversations superficial. Talk about the weather and my job and how it's always the same: busy. I don't dare talk about the person I really am because the moment I do, it becomes a war zone.
Whenever I try to be myself, and talk about the things that are important to me, she will always steer the conversation back to herself. "It's just like me and …" blah blah blah. Only, it's nothing like what she's going through. Half the time, I get the feeling she just wants to bring the conversation back to her again. Most of the time, I don't fight it. I just let it go wherever she wants to take it. I can't be the daughter I'd like to be because it's unhealthy for me. I can't call her every week or discuss real life issues or even spend large amounts of time with her. Because I feel like an alien in my own family.
The longer I hear about what she does, the more it upsets and frustrates me, the more I want to try and fix things. Sometimes, the real me breaks out and offers suggestions to make things easier. "Get some hobbies." I suggest. "Find some people your age to hang out with." But the moment my real self emerges, it becomes apparent why we are able to spend so little time together. She immediately gets defensive, as if, as her daughter, I have no right to tell her what to do with her life. All this from the parent who begs me for money or asks me what to do when things go wrong.
She seems to have little thought about how I am doing financially. I have never, in all the time I have been on my own, gotten a penny from her. All the times that I couldn't make rent or I didn't have enough money to pay for things, I struggled on my own. And when she told me she couldn't pay her bills, I tried to help her. Because that's what daughters do; that's what family does-they band together and help one another out. But at some point, something's got to give. This unhealthy relationship has got to change. I have recently realized that I have little more to give other than myself, my true self.
The truth of it all is, I should be enough. But if she were to know the real me... she would understand that I continue to struggle here in California. I continue to struggle with things that she will never understand. I continue to struggle every day with the things she didn't teach me, the choices I've had to make as a result of her failures, and a part of my soul died the day I realized she had no idea who I really was. But she will never know those things. She feels it is mine (and now Shauna's) obligation to care for her. But where was she all those years when we needed caring for? How can you care for someone else when you yourself are still picking up the pieces?
Ultimately, I had to choose. I had to choose my health and well being over her. I had to choose to keep myself safe and mentally (and it turns out physically) distance myself from her. I love her because she is my mother, but that doesn't mean that I have to like her lifestyle or support it.
She has chosen to live her life the way she has. If our roles were reversed, she would not –could not—come to my aid to help me. She would be the first to run away at a hint of trouble. And although I would like to be better than that, I've realized that you cannot begin to help another person before you've first helped yourself. It's not about being selfish, but about taking care of yourself. All those years that she never took care of me—never cared enough about who I really was-or perhaps never bothered to find out. And here I am. Because of, or perhaps in spite of her, I am me. I am here in California and I am making it all on my own. I have a great career, a great family (my friends of course), and feel great most of the time. That is something that I am very proud of. And I can't, for even a moment, imagine letting her take that all away from me again.
That's the thing about an addict. They will drag you down with them if you let them. They will take even those with the best intentions and force them to their ruin as long as it results in them getting what they want. Unfortunately, until she realizes this or changes her lifestyle, we will never be friends and we will never have the relationship I've always dreamed about.
How ironic that I should value family so much and yet have to learn to listen to the voice inside me telling me it's okay to walk away when my heart would have me do otherwise. I continue to have faith that one day, she'll find out who I really am and try to get to know that person. I believe that the best gift I can give my mother at this point, is my true self. I can also show my mother how much I love her, by being a better mother to my children than she was to me. But being a better mother, a better sister, a better friend, I will show her that it is possible to love and be loved without wanting or expecting something in return.
If my true self does not always agree with her lifestyle or her mean, hurtful comments, I must remain ever vigilant and continue to be true to myself. I just sometimes wish that the path wasn't so difficult, so long, or so lonely. When sadness tries to tear me down, I push it aside and know that I am happy with who I've become and strive, every day, to be the person that would make my mom—the one who has the potential to see the real me--truly proud.
I live in a state I have called my home for nine years now. There is no one in my family nearby, and I have thus far forged my path here alone. But sometimes I picture what it would be like to return home. Somehow, I always imagined the perfect life during the holidays … Of course I'd drive home, from whatever adventure I had just completed. I'd make it home first.
Dad would, of course, be out running errands-getting firewood for the stove or salt for the sidewalk. Mom would be waiting, the soft sounds of Frank Sinatra's Christmas playing in the living room. The kitchen, as always, is a mess. The counter-tops are covered with every type of baking material possible. Her hair's disheveled, her clothes don't match, and she has no makeup on. But her smile that lights up her face when I arrive at the door, makes her beautiful.
It smells like cinnamon and bread and the house is warm and cozy. It has not yet begun to snow, but the air is thick and the ominous clouds foretell a white blanket will soon cover the ground. I stamp my feet to remove the dirt, and Mom ushers me inside.
Pretty soon, Shauna will show up. She'll probably bring her boyfriend with her-a guy I have yet to meet. She met him somewhere in Europe, I think, when she was on the "vacation of a lifetime" as she called it. He's got an accent I hear and has a sort of old-fashioned charm with modern style. I can't wait to meet him, and see if he's good enough for my little sister.
I'm still single, but that's okay. My search has yet to result in any tangible proof that God is working on someone great for me. Of course Mom asks about it again, but dismisses it when she sees that talking about it bothers me. "Don't worry, you'll find him. I'm sure of it." She assures me. Then she asks about my job and I launch into the latest boring dissertation of the latest in law enforcement.
About this time, there's movement at the door. I hear the door close quickly and the unmistakeable sound of cursing. "Someone's damn car is parked the front of our house again." He says annoyed. But then he sees me and realizes that it's mine. He scoops me up in a rough but warm hug, practically lifting me off the ground. Then he sets me down again and says, "Hey Angel. I didn't realize you'd be here so soon." "I couldn't wait to get here." I reply. Pretty soon, Mom and Dad are bickering over something small, but then laugh about it when I give them a strange look that betrays my thoughts that they are a lovely couple despite their shortcomings and petty arguments. Because underneath it all, they are fighting because they care about making everything "just so" for when Shauna and I come every year. Underneath it all, is their love for us.
Not much time passes by before Dad inquires about my financial status and how well I'm doing. I confess that buying presents has left me more worse for wear than I had intended. Dad promises to help me pay for my car insurance at the beginning of the year. "You can't let that lapse, you know honey. It's important." He shakes his newspaper, straightening it, and then launches into his latest stand on recent politics and the state of the economy.
Unfortunately, my real family is nothing like the one I so often picture. A long time ago, I made decisions that were supposed to help my situation, not make it worse. It has taken me years to realize what it is I am doing here in California and why I chose so long ago to run away. When I chose to leave my home at sixteen, I hoped that I would leave behind my old life and everything that came with it. I wanted to abandon my real family and with it, all hopes that the "semi-perfect" family I'd envisioned would one day because at least a small possibility.
But, years later, I continue to struggle with many of the things I purposely left behind. I struggle with decisions I am not sure I am strong enough to make and thoughts in my head that seem to have no escape.
Mom continues to drink, even after all these years-even after the cancer, even after it has driven away countless people from her life. She doesn't think she has a problem. Perhaps she has convinced herself thoroughly, or perhaps her drinking problem is my imagination.
Whatever the case, I will never forget her trips to the bar when I was younger, her "overnights" to whatever boyfriend she chose that month, and her constant torture of me and my sister. She continues to be in my life to this day. We had thus far, established the sort of relationship with clear boundaries. We must set boundaries to avoid the subjects that are like open wounds that may never close. We must have boundaries so that, on some level, I can have the mom I've always wanted.
The only problem with that is, I am me. I am person that Mom doesn't know. She only knows the scared, frightened girl I used to be-the one who always pretended to be what she wanted me to be so she wouldn't hit me. I pretended to agree with her most of the time, I pretended to agree with her when she told me what an awful person I was, and along the way, traded a piece of my soul for a few moments of grace and peace. Because, as long as I pretended, she could never touch me. She could never reach my soul or my heart. She could never touch my optimism, my generosity, or my faith that one day, things would be better.
Today, I think she is still caught between the person I am and the person I pretended to be then. The person I am today does not agree with her lifestyle or the way she chooses to live. If it were anyone else, I would merely stop spending time with her because I know that spending time with people who are a negative influence on you bring you down. The real me wants to do what I always do: fix things, make things better. My natural ability to sense what's wrong and try to make it right has no place in our mother-daughter relationship. She is the person who drowns her sorrow in alcohol, and I'm the girl she doesn't understand.
To her, I am supposed to be supportive. I am supposed to listen to her go on and on about her failed relationships, her bad decisions, and her desperate implorations for money. All the while, I can hear the sound of ice cubes hitting the edge of the glass. I don't have to ask what she's drinking; I already know. Most of the time when we speak, I try my best to keep our conversations superficial. Talk about the weather and my job and how it's always the same: busy. I don't dare talk about the person I really am because the moment I do, it becomes a war zone.
Whenever I try to be myself, and talk about the things that are important to me, she will always steer the conversation back to herself. "It's just like me and …" blah blah blah. Only, it's nothing like what she's going through. Half the time, I get the feeling she just wants to bring the conversation back to her again. Most of the time, I don't fight it. I just let it go wherever she wants to take it. I can't be the daughter I'd like to be because it's unhealthy for me. I can't call her every week or discuss real life issues or even spend large amounts of time with her. Because I feel like an alien in my own family.
The longer I hear about what she does, the more it upsets and frustrates me, the more I want to try and fix things. Sometimes, the real me breaks out and offers suggestions to make things easier. "Get some hobbies." I suggest. "Find some people your age to hang out with." But the moment my real self emerges, it becomes apparent why we are able to spend so little time together. She immediately gets defensive, as if, as her daughter, I have no right to tell her what to do with her life. All this from the parent who begs me for money or asks me what to do when things go wrong.
She seems to have little thought about how I am doing financially. I have never, in all the time I have been on my own, gotten a penny from her. All the times that I couldn't make rent or I didn't have enough money to pay for things, I struggled on my own. And when she told me she couldn't pay her bills, I tried to help her. Because that's what daughters do; that's what family does-they band together and help one another out. But at some point, something's got to give. This unhealthy relationship has got to change. I have recently realized that I have little more to give other than myself, my true self.
The truth of it all is, I should be enough. But if she were to know the real me... she would understand that I continue to struggle here in California. I continue to struggle with things that she will never understand. I continue to struggle every day with the things she didn't teach me, the choices I've had to make as a result of her failures, and a part of my soul died the day I realized she had no idea who I really was. But she will never know those things. She feels it is mine (and now Shauna's) obligation to care for her. But where was she all those years when we needed caring for? How can you care for someone else when you yourself are still picking up the pieces?
Ultimately, I had to choose. I had to choose my health and well being over her. I had to choose to keep myself safe and mentally (and it turns out physically) distance myself from her. I love her because she is my mother, but that doesn't mean that I have to like her lifestyle or support it.
She has chosen to live her life the way she has. If our roles were reversed, she would not –could not—come to my aid to help me. She would be the first to run away at a hint of trouble. And although I would like to be better than that, I've realized that you cannot begin to help another person before you've first helped yourself. It's not about being selfish, but about taking care of yourself. All those years that she never took care of me—never cared enough about who I really was-or perhaps never bothered to find out. And here I am. Because of, or perhaps in spite of her, I am me. I am here in California and I am making it all on my own. I have a great career, a great family (my friends of course), and feel great most of the time. That is something that I am very proud of. And I can't, for even a moment, imagine letting her take that all away from me again.
That's the thing about an addict. They will drag you down with them if you let them. They will take even those with the best intentions and force them to their ruin as long as it results in them getting what they want. Unfortunately, until she realizes this or changes her lifestyle, we will never be friends and we will never have the relationship I've always dreamed about.
How ironic that I should value family so much and yet have to learn to listen to the voice inside me telling me it's okay to walk away when my heart would have me do otherwise. I continue to have faith that one day, she'll find out who I really am and try to get to know that person. I believe that the best gift I can give my mother at this point, is my true self. I can also show my mother how much I love her, by being a better mother to my children than she was to me. But being a better mother, a better sister, a better friend, I will show her that it is possible to love and be loved without wanting or expecting something in return.
If my true self does not always agree with her lifestyle or her mean, hurtful comments, I must remain ever vigilant and continue to be true to myself. I just sometimes wish that the path wasn't so difficult, so long, or so lonely. When sadness tries to tear me down, I push it aside and know that I am happy with who I've become and strive, every day, to be the person that would make my mom—the one who has the potential to see the real me--truly proud.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Desensitization
I have been meaning to write something for a long time, but the days escape me and then pretty soon my brain is mush. It's not that I don't have a ton to think about (there are always ideas floating around in my head) but by the end of a long day, I cannot articulate myself as well as I would like.
To become desensitized (according to the dictionary) means to "make indifferent" or "reduce sensitivity to." This subject is difficult; on one hand, being desensitized means being able to handle things more easily, but on the other, makes me hardened, cold, and uncaring.
In my job, being desensitized is often encouraged. Remain "neutral" seemingly implies having no feelings one way or the other. But, in my opinion, it is almost impossible to see things or be involved in things that don't make you form an opinion.
Thus far in my life, I have chosen to be as naive as I possible can be. It's not because I don't realize the atrocities in the world, or even that I choose to ignore the truth. Rather, I try to keep myself believing for as long as possible, that there is still good in the world.
I am surprised to find myself growing (unavoidably) more desensitized as I get older. I saw gruesome pictures of an automobile accident a few months ago that, I must confess, will probably haunt me until the day I die. But then just today I saw some new pictures that were even more graphic, and they did not affect me as much as the previous ones had. I had suddenly become desensitized to it all.
In my life, being desensitized is what inevitably happens when you hear one story after the other that is really a bunch of BS. After a while, you automatically start questioning the stories that being to sound the same. It's a sort of process you go through much more quickly in my type of work when you interact with people on a daily basis. In the process of doing my job, I will have seen and done things that will cause me to be desensitized.
I have tried to remain as sensitive as I can, not because (as I said above) I choose to ignore things, but also because I believe that the worst thing a person can be is indifferent.
Elie Wiesel (an awesome author who wrote "Night") says:The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference.I truly believe that he's right. The opposite of life is indifference.
Lately, I find myself desensitized to the point of disillusionment. I have begun my ascent perhaps, into true adulthood-that place where I realize that the world isn't some great Disney movie where everyone gets their happy endings and justice triumphs over evil.
The problem is, I have to go it all alone. I have to face my fears on a daily basis all alone. And I can do it; I can stand tall and be independent-not necessarily because I am that way naturally, but because circumstances force me to fend for myself. If I were not as driven and motivated as I am, I might have settled for less. Sometimes I have to fight "the good fight" for myself; I have to fight for the job I want, fight for the relationships I want, fight for those things I believe in. But at the end of the day, I don't have anyone to lean on who can tell me that it's all right, that I don't have to bear the burden alone. I am strong, I can do it all without complaint, but the real question here is, do I really want to?
The more independent I become, the more struggles I face, the more I find myself disillusioned and hard. I have become more and more the person who doesn't take crap from anyone. On one hand, it's a good thing (and I find myself congratulating myself even as I write this for being strong enough to stand up for what I believe in). But on the other hand, I stand up for what I believe in, I become desensitized, but at what cost?
One of my biggest fears is that I'll continue to go onward alone and it will make me hardened to the point of indifference. I don't want to face the world filled with an indifferent heart. I want to be filled with fresh enthusiasm, with unfailing optimism and spirit. I fear that if I don't find a way to turn back soon or am not rescued before it's too late, I will start a process I will be unable to stop.
Being sensitive has graced my life with so many benefits, I hate to lose out on that skill and talent completely. It has been a blessing to be able to empathize with others and see their points of view, allowing me to help them. Even better, by understanding their struggles and issues, I come to better understand the nature of the world, the nature of the human soul, and even my own nature.
The truth is, it also helps me to address and conquer so many elements of my past. It's easy to desensitize myself (after all that I have been through) and just let the past fade away. As more and more time goes by, the past starts to become nothing more than a story locked away in my heart-one that is difficult to think about yet alone write. Time goes by, and when I write it all down, the emotion, the feelings that I had can sometimes take a while to re-identify with. I find myself feeling ridiculous for even attempting to put my feelings to paper. "Get over it." I sometimes criticize myself. Get over it? Or am I merely telling myself that because I have become so desensitized that my story (as horrific as it was) doesn't seem to compare with the stories and lives of so many others also struggling?
And as a final note, it has also managed not to affect how I view relationships, which is probably a good thing. But because my "relationship" sense isn't becoming as desensitized as the rest of me, it would seem that I am outgoing (on the outside) when I am really still continuing to struggle with an element of shyness.
If there's someone I like, it's difficult for me to "put myself out there" without some type of indication that there is returned interest. It's difficult for me to just "go for it" and hope for the best-because as much as I might like to have a good relationship, I find myself painfully shy when it comes to asking guys out or initially telling a guy how I feel about him. Once he has made the first move (or moves) then I competely open up. But I can imagine that is why I have such a difficulty at first-because on the outside, it might appear difficult to get to know me.
My point in bringing all this up is that I am completely discouraged. I don't want to be desensitized. I want to believe the world is a big, bright place and that things are going to work out for the best. I want to believe the best in people, believe that there is good in most people. I want to believe.
Lately it seems like I have had so many things come up that I have started to feel numb to it all. All I feel like saying is, "what next?" I feel numb and feel like saying "whatever" as a way of handling it. I feel overwhelmed and disappointed, and completely disillusioned. I want to find a way back to the me that believed in all the positive things in the world, before that version of myself slips away and this person who has replaced me remains.
I want to be the person who isn't too shy to ask a guy out on a date, who isn't going to take crap from anyone, but who still believes in everything good. But I'm still shy, and that doesn't seem likely to change anytime soon. The one thing I've tried to hold onto, my ability to feel real feelings, is starting to fade away into the background of the reality of my life. Perhaps that girl, the one who thought in make believe, who always cared, will slip away and maybe I'll never get to be that girl again. I guess that girl is starting to grow up and I only pray that where I end up is anywhere but indifferent.
To become desensitized (according to the dictionary) means to "make indifferent" or "reduce sensitivity to." This subject is difficult; on one hand, being desensitized means being able to handle things more easily, but on the other, makes me hardened, cold, and uncaring.
In my job, being desensitized is often encouraged. Remain "neutral" seemingly implies having no feelings one way or the other. But, in my opinion, it is almost impossible to see things or be involved in things that don't make you form an opinion.
Thus far in my life, I have chosen to be as naive as I possible can be. It's not because I don't realize the atrocities in the world, or even that I choose to ignore the truth. Rather, I try to keep myself believing for as long as possible, that there is still good in the world.
I am surprised to find myself growing (unavoidably) more desensitized as I get older. I saw gruesome pictures of an automobile accident a few months ago that, I must confess, will probably haunt me until the day I die. But then just today I saw some new pictures that were even more graphic, and they did not affect me as much as the previous ones had. I had suddenly become desensitized to it all.
In my life, being desensitized is what inevitably happens when you hear one story after the other that is really a bunch of BS. After a while, you automatically start questioning the stories that being to sound the same. It's a sort of process you go through much more quickly in my type of work when you interact with people on a daily basis. In the process of doing my job, I will have seen and done things that will cause me to be desensitized.
I have tried to remain as sensitive as I can, not because (as I said above) I choose to ignore things, but also because I believe that the worst thing a person can be is indifferent.
Elie Wiesel (an awesome author who wrote "Night") says:The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference.I truly believe that he's right. The opposite of life is indifference.
Lately, I find myself desensitized to the point of disillusionment. I have begun my ascent perhaps, into true adulthood-that place where I realize that the world isn't some great Disney movie where everyone gets their happy endings and justice triumphs over evil.
The problem is, I have to go it all alone. I have to face my fears on a daily basis all alone. And I can do it; I can stand tall and be independent-not necessarily because I am that way naturally, but because circumstances force me to fend for myself. If I were not as driven and motivated as I am, I might have settled for less. Sometimes I have to fight "the good fight" for myself; I have to fight for the job I want, fight for the relationships I want, fight for those things I believe in. But at the end of the day, I don't have anyone to lean on who can tell me that it's all right, that I don't have to bear the burden alone. I am strong, I can do it all without complaint, but the real question here is, do I really want to?
The more independent I become, the more struggles I face, the more I find myself disillusioned and hard. I have become more and more the person who doesn't take crap from anyone. On one hand, it's a good thing (and I find myself congratulating myself even as I write this for being strong enough to stand up for what I believe in). But on the other hand, I stand up for what I believe in, I become desensitized, but at what cost?
One of my biggest fears is that I'll continue to go onward alone and it will make me hardened to the point of indifference. I don't want to face the world filled with an indifferent heart. I want to be filled with fresh enthusiasm, with unfailing optimism and spirit. I fear that if I don't find a way to turn back soon or am not rescued before it's too late, I will start a process I will be unable to stop.
Being sensitive has graced my life with so many benefits, I hate to lose out on that skill and talent completely. It has been a blessing to be able to empathize with others and see their points of view, allowing me to help them. Even better, by understanding their struggles and issues, I come to better understand the nature of the world, the nature of the human soul, and even my own nature.
The truth is, it also helps me to address and conquer so many elements of my past. It's easy to desensitize myself (after all that I have been through) and just let the past fade away. As more and more time goes by, the past starts to become nothing more than a story locked away in my heart-one that is difficult to think about yet alone write. Time goes by, and when I write it all down, the emotion, the feelings that I had can sometimes take a while to re-identify with. I find myself feeling ridiculous for even attempting to put my feelings to paper. "Get over it." I sometimes criticize myself. Get over it? Or am I merely telling myself that because I have become so desensitized that my story (as horrific as it was) doesn't seem to compare with the stories and lives of so many others also struggling?
And as a final note, it has also managed not to affect how I view relationships, which is probably a good thing. But because my "relationship" sense isn't becoming as desensitized as the rest of me, it would seem that I am outgoing (on the outside) when I am really still continuing to struggle with an element of shyness.
If there's someone I like, it's difficult for me to "put myself out there" without some type of indication that there is returned interest. It's difficult for me to just "go for it" and hope for the best-because as much as I might like to have a good relationship, I find myself painfully shy when it comes to asking guys out or initially telling a guy how I feel about him. Once he has made the first move (or moves) then I competely open up. But I can imagine that is why I have such a difficulty at first-because on the outside, it might appear difficult to get to know me.
My point in bringing all this up is that I am completely discouraged. I don't want to be desensitized. I want to believe the world is a big, bright place and that things are going to work out for the best. I want to believe the best in people, believe that there is good in most people. I want to believe.
Lately it seems like I have had so many things come up that I have started to feel numb to it all. All I feel like saying is, "what next?" I feel numb and feel like saying "whatever" as a way of handling it. I feel overwhelmed and disappointed, and completely disillusioned. I want to find a way back to the me that believed in all the positive things in the world, before that version of myself slips away and this person who has replaced me remains.
I want to be the person who isn't too shy to ask a guy out on a date, who isn't going to take crap from anyone, but who still believes in everything good. But I'm still shy, and that doesn't seem likely to change anytime soon. The one thing I've tried to hold onto, my ability to feel real feelings, is starting to fade away into the background of the reality of my life. Perhaps that girl, the one who thought in make believe, who always cared, will slip away and maybe I'll never get to be that girl again. I guess that girl is starting to grow up and I only pray that where I end up is anywhere but indifferent.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Erin Brokovich
Having a really busy job, I found myself watching Erin Brockovich on t.v. while I worked. I've seen it several times, but was really curious as to the reality of it. It claims it was based on a true story, but I also realize that true is sometimes a matter of opinion, and not based on fact.
So as I watched the movie, I made note of several things. Before I launch into that, let me just point out that the movie basically is a story of David vs. Goliath. A small law firm takes on a utility company for using Chromium VI that eventually contaminated the water supply in Hinkley, California. Most people have seen it or at the very least heard about it. Julia Roberts plays the part of Erin Brockovich and is the most noted actor in the movie.
As I watched the movie, several things stood out to me and I set on a small journey to determine the truth. Was the story of Erin Brockovich really true or was it more a souped-up Hollywood feel-good story invented to make someone a lot of money?
I would just like to say that ... you know, I really care about the truth. Sometimes, we accept things at face value and don't bother to ask questions about their validity. The truth is important to me; it's important to a lot of people. Sometimes, something can sound so true and seem so real, but in reality, all it is is smoke an mirrors. Let's take a look and see ...
The movie asserts that "The film tells the true story of Erin Brockovich, a legal assistant, who in 1993 lined up some 650 prospective plaintiffs from the tiny desert town of Hinkley, Calif., to sue Pacific Gas & Electric.
PG&E's nearby plant was leaching chromium 6, a rust inhibitor, into Hinkley's water supply, and the suit blamed the chemical for dozens of symptoms, ranging from nosebleeds to breast cancer, Hodgkin's disease, miscarriages and spinal deterioration. In 1996 PG&E settled the case for $333 million."
In researching the "facts" I stumbled across several articles completely contradicting the Brockovich movie and actually stating that the lawyers in the Brockovich "team" were merely sharks out to get a buck. The biggest attacker of their claims is Michael Fumento who, in The Wall Street Journal, March 28, 2000 article attacked each of the movies claims as false.
In reviewing this, let's take a look at the major facts claimed to be true in the movie:
Claim #1. Over 650 people in the town of Hinkley claimed they suffered such ailments as to be simple nosebleeds, rashes, to the more serious cancer and even death.
Michael Fumento claimed, "A study by Mr. Blot and others, just published in The Journal of Occupational and Environmental Medicine, evaluated almost 52,000 workers who worked at three PG&E plants over a quarter of a century. One was the Hinkley plant, and another is near Kettleman, Calif., where Ms. Brockovich's firm is rounding up plaintiffs today. The researchers found cancer rates were no higher than in the general California population and death rates significantly lower than expected."
Wow, that's a pretty solid argument if you ask me. If after a quarter of a century, the population and death rates were "lower than expected" then how is it that 650 people were convinced they were suffering ailments as a result of Chromium VI? I think I might have an answer to that question. But when I first read this, I was really starting to question the validity of the entire movie. After all, the attourneys in the real case did manage to get over $133 million. Was it possible that they merely wanted to take advantage of a big corporation? Let's take a closer look ...
Claim #2. Chromium VI is a dangerous chemical.According to Fumento, "We now know the scientific evidence doesn't back her [claim] up." He claims that chromium was scientifically proven to not pose a significant risk to anyone's health and any dangerous reactions are the result of inhalation not ingestion as the Brockovich team (and the movie) claim. Here's more of what he had to say, "Chromium-6, derived from ubiquitous chromite ore, is considered by the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency ... as a human carcinogen within certain limits. Its connection is only to two types of cancer, that of the lung and of the septum... Further, as one might guess from these two cancers, it's only a carcinogen when inhaled. Even then, research indicates it takes massive doses over many years and according to William J. Blot, head of the International Epidemiology Institute in Rockville, Md., "It appears the problem has been associated with production of the compounds, not the actual use." Her further stated, "According to the EPA's Integrated Risk Information System (IRIS), updated in September 1998, "No data were located in the available literature that suggested that [chromium-6] is carcinogenic by the oral route of exposure." As a slam-dunk to make his case, he further asserts, "Cancer aside, exhaustive, repeated studies of communities living adjacent to landfills with huge concentrations of chromium-6, including that detectable in residents' urine, have found no ill health effects. A report out of Glasgow, Scotland, in January indicated exposed residents showed 'no increased risk of congenital abnormalities (birth defects), lung cancer, or a range of other diseases.'" That pretty much solidifies his argument. As you might expect, Erin Brockovich herself wrote to the editor of the newspaper defending the firm's claims. Further, she claimed that people were hurt and were rightfully compensated. But Fumento's argument seems pretty solid. His argument used actual studies (and official words) while Brockovich's merely illustrated her astute grasp of the English language. I was beginning to fear that I had believed in something that was just a figment of a money-hungry lawyers imagination.
However, several questions still lingered in my mind. There were things not argued by Mr. Fumento that were a matter of unquestioned and undisputed facts. Specifically, the following:
#1) Why would PGE give in to false claims and give $333 million if chromium was completely safe? The company attempted to buy the land from the residents and even offered free water to residents. Why? Why would the company attempt to buy the land if there was no problem with it?
Fumento asserts that it was just giving in to the powerful legalities that they feared would cost them, that and the fact they were receiving bad publicity. However, the attempts to purchase the land from the residents came long before Ed Masry and Brockovich even came along and long before there was even an issue with the plants. So why would a company give money to something or for something that was harmless?
#2) How could 650 people possibly have illnesses from a chemical supposedly scientifically proven to be harmless?
Since I didn't have the answer to either of these questions, I did some further research of my own to finally put to rest whether or not this was a true story.
I found myself at the official website for the Department of Health And Human Services, specifically the Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease and looked up Chromium VI. This is an official government agency not profiting from having an opinion either way. According to the website, "Breathing high levels of chromium(VI) can cause irritation to the nose, such as runny nose, nosebleeds, and ulcers and holes in the nasal septum."
Uh oh, I noticed it said breathing not ingesting. Then I read on "Ingesting large amounts of chromium(VI) can cause stomach upsets and ulcers, convulsions, kidney and liver damage, and even death.Skin contact with certain chromium(VI) compounds can cause skin ulcers. Some people are extremely sensitive to chromium(VI) or chromium(III). Allergic reactions consisting of severe redness and swelling of the skin have been noted."
Further at the site, under the section of "how likely it is to cause cancer" it says, "Several studies have shown that chromium(VI) compounds can increase the risk of lung cancer. Animal studies have also shown an increased risk of cancer. The Department of Health and Human Services (DHHS) has determined that certain chromium(VI) compounds are known to cause cancer in humans." Oh yeah, and according to Wickipedia (I love that site), "The lethal dose of poisonous chromium (VI) compounds is about one half teaspoon of material." I should also note that one of the biggest contentions of Fumento is that the levels of Chromium noted in the movie is .58 parts per million (which is really high) but claimed that a level like that would not cause significant harm. According to Wickipedia, "The OSHA PEL for Hexavalent Chromium is 5 µg/m3 (0.005).[2]
Now, it doesn't take a scientist to figure out that .005 is much lower than .58!
Well there we go. There's the answer I was looking for, at last. The site describes chromium VI as a carginogen and extremely dangerous. Why would the utility company bother paying out $333 million dollars? Probably because they knew they had done something wrong.
My faith in truth and justice has been restored and all it took was a little bit of internet research. I would like to point out that, in doing this research, I discovered statements from Hinkley residents claiming how unhappy they were with the amount of money they received. That is truly a shame, because it's difficult to place a price tag on a human life, disease, or illness, no matter what the cause.
If the amounts gathered for the purposes of making the claimants whole weren't gathered fairly (as some claim) then I feel bad for those poor people who have suffered or continue to suffer as the result of that contamination. Hopefully the money they got was enough for their medical bills and a little bit of their pain and suffering.
I can never know what they went through. To me, the bigger picture is that winning the case was more than just about giving money to the people that were harmed. The bigger picture is to fight for the cause of justice. To fight against the use of chromium not just to give people money they felt they deserved, but to prevent the continued use of the chemical and to prevent it from happening to anyone else! It's about protecting future generations and making our world a safer place.
Anyways, I thought I would share this with you ... if you get a chance, watch the movie. It's interesting at the very least. While I think that perhaps the facts on either side of the case seem a little bit skewed, it seems that perhaps chromium VI is a little more dangerous than Fumento would have you believe. I wouldn't want to drink the water. Would you?
But this leads me to my next point: sometimes what we are presented with isn't always the truth. It's best to take a look deeper and investigate before we jump to a conclusion one way or the other.
Sources:
Fumento, Michael "Erin Brochovich Exposed" http://www.fumento.com/erinwsj.html
Brockovich, Erin "'Erin Brockovich,' Affirmed"http://www.fumento.com/brocklett.html
Department of Health and Human Services, "Chromium VI"http://www.atsdr.cdc.gov/tfacts7.html
Time.Com "Erin Brockovich's Junk Science"http://www.time.com/time/columnist/jaroff/article/0,9565,464386,00.html
Wickipedia.com "Chromium VI"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chromium_VI
So as I watched the movie, I made note of several things. Before I launch into that, let me just point out that the movie basically is a story of David vs. Goliath. A small law firm takes on a utility company for using Chromium VI that eventually contaminated the water supply in Hinkley, California. Most people have seen it or at the very least heard about it. Julia Roberts plays the part of Erin Brockovich and is the most noted actor in the movie.
As I watched the movie, several things stood out to me and I set on a small journey to determine the truth. Was the story of Erin Brockovich really true or was it more a souped-up Hollywood feel-good story invented to make someone a lot of money?
I would just like to say that ... you know, I really care about the truth. Sometimes, we accept things at face value and don't bother to ask questions about their validity. The truth is important to me; it's important to a lot of people. Sometimes, something can sound so true and seem so real, but in reality, all it is is smoke an mirrors. Let's take a look and see ...
The movie asserts that "The film tells the true story of Erin Brockovich, a legal assistant, who in 1993 lined up some 650 prospective plaintiffs from the tiny desert town of Hinkley, Calif., to sue Pacific Gas & Electric.
PG&E's nearby plant was leaching chromium 6, a rust inhibitor, into Hinkley's water supply, and the suit blamed the chemical for dozens of symptoms, ranging from nosebleeds to breast cancer, Hodgkin's disease, miscarriages and spinal deterioration. In 1996 PG&E settled the case for $333 million."
In researching the "facts" I stumbled across several articles completely contradicting the Brockovich movie and actually stating that the lawyers in the Brockovich "team" were merely sharks out to get a buck. The biggest attacker of their claims is Michael Fumento who, in The Wall Street Journal, March 28, 2000 article attacked each of the movies claims as false.
In reviewing this, let's take a look at the major facts claimed to be true in the movie:
Claim #1. Over 650 people in the town of Hinkley claimed they suffered such ailments as to be simple nosebleeds, rashes, to the more serious cancer and even death.
Michael Fumento claimed, "A study by Mr. Blot and others, just published in The Journal of Occupational and Environmental Medicine, evaluated almost 52,000 workers who worked at three PG&E plants over a quarter of a century. One was the Hinkley plant, and another is near Kettleman, Calif., where Ms. Brockovich's firm is rounding up plaintiffs today. The researchers found cancer rates were no higher than in the general California population and death rates significantly lower than expected."
Wow, that's a pretty solid argument if you ask me. If after a quarter of a century, the population and death rates were "lower than expected" then how is it that 650 people were convinced they were suffering ailments as a result of Chromium VI? I think I might have an answer to that question. But when I first read this, I was really starting to question the validity of the entire movie. After all, the attourneys in the real case did manage to get over $133 million. Was it possible that they merely wanted to take advantage of a big corporation? Let's take a closer look ...
Claim #2. Chromium VI is a dangerous chemical.According to Fumento, "We now know the scientific evidence doesn't back her [claim] up." He claims that chromium was scientifically proven to not pose a significant risk to anyone's health and any dangerous reactions are the result of inhalation not ingestion as the Brockovich team (and the movie) claim. Here's more of what he had to say, "Chromium-6, derived from ubiquitous chromite ore, is considered by the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency ... as a human carcinogen within certain limits. Its connection is only to two types of cancer, that of the lung and of the septum... Further, as one might guess from these two cancers, it's only a carcinogen when inhaled. Even then, research indicates it takes massive doses over many years and according to William J. Blot, head of the International Epidemiology Institute in Rockville, Md., "It appears the problem has been associated with production of the compounds, not the actual use." Her further stated, "According to the EPA's Integrated Risk Information System (IRIS), updated in September 1998, "No data were located in the available literature that suggested that [chromium-6] is carcinogenic by the oral route of exposure." As a slam-dunk to make his case, he further asserts, "Cancer aside, exhaustive, repeated studies of communities living adjacent to landfills with huge concentrations of chromium-6, including that detectable in residents' urine, have found no ill health effects. A report out of Glasgow, Scotland, in January indicated exposed residents showed 'no increased risk of congenital abnormalities (birth defects), lung cancer, or a range of other diseases.'" That pretty much solidifies his argument. As you might expect, Erin Brockovich herself wrote to the editor of the newspaper defending the firm's claims. Further, she claimed that people were hurt and were rightfully compensated. But Fumento's argument seems pretty solid. His argument used actual studies (and official words) while Brockovich's merely illustrated her astute grasp of the English language. I was beginning to fear that I had believed in something that was just a figment of a money-hungry lawyers imagination.
However, several questions still lingered in my mind. There were things not argued by Mr. Fumento that were a matter of unquestioned and undisputed facts. Specifically, the following:
#1) Why would PGE give in to false claims and give $333 million if chromium was completely safe? The company attempted to buy the land from the residents and even offered free water to residents. Why? Why would the company attempt to buy the land if there was no problem with it?
Fumento asserts that it was just giving in to the powerful legalities that they feared would cost them, that and the fact they were receiving bad publicity. However, the attempts to purchase the land from the residents came long before Ed Masry and Brockovich even came along and long before there was even an issue with the plants. So why would a company give money to something or for something that was harmless?
#2) How could 650 people possibly have illnesses from a chemical supposedly scientifically proven to be harmless?
Since I didn't have the answer to either of these questions, I did some further research of my own to finally put to rest whether or not this was a true story.
I found myself at the official website for the Department of Health And Human Services, specifically the Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease and looked up Chromium VI. This is an official government agency not profiting from having an opinion either way. According to the website, "Breathing high levels of chromium(VI) can cause irritation to the nose, such as runny nose, nosebleeds, and ulcers and holes in the nasal septum."
Uh oh, I noticed it said breathing not ingesting. Then I read on "Ingesting large amounts of chromium(VI) can cause stomach upsets and ulcers, convulsions, kidney and liver damage, and even death.Skin contact with certain chromium(VI) compounds can cause skin ulcers. Some people are extremely sensitive to chromium(VI) or chromium(III). Allergic reactions consisting of severe redness and swelling of the skin have been noted."
Further at the site, under the section of "how likely it is to cause cancer" it says, "Several studies have shown that chromium(VI) compounds can increase the risk of lung cancer. Animal studies have also shown an increased risk of cancer. The Department of Health and Human Services (DHHS) has determined that certain chromium(VI) compounds are known to cause cancer in humans." Oh yeah, and according to Wickipedia (I love that site), "The lethal dose of poisonous chromium (VI) compounds is about one half teaspoon of material." I should also note that one of the biggest contentions of Fumento is that the levels of Chromium noted in the movie is .58 parts per million (which is really high) but claimed that a level like that would not cause significant harm. According to Wickipedia, "The OSHA PEL for Hexavalent Chromium is 5 µg/m3 (0.005).[2]
Now, it doesn't take a scientist to figure out that .005 is much lower than .58!
Well there we go. There's the answer I was looking for, at last. The site describes chromium VI as a carginogen and extremely dangerous. Why would the utility company bother paying out $333 million dollars? Probably because they knew they had done something wrong.
My faith in truth and justice has been restored and all it took was a little bit of internet research. I would like to point out that, in doing this research, I discovered statements from Hinkley residents claiming how unhappy they were with the amount of money they received. That is truly a shame, because it's difficult to place a price tag on a human life, disease, or illness, no matter what the cause.
If the amounts gathered for the purposes of making the claimants whole weren't gathered fairly (as some claim) then I feel bad for those poor people who have suffered or continue to suffer as the result of that contamination. Hopefully the money they got was enough for their medical bills and a little bit of their pain and suffering.
I can never know what they went through. To me, the bigger picture is that winning the case was more than just about giving money to the people that were harmed. The bigger picture is to fight for the cause of justice. To fight against the use of chromium not just to give people money they felt they deserved, but to prevent the continued use of the chemical and to prevent it from happening to anyone else! It's about protecting future generations and making our world a safer place.
Anyways, I thought I would share this with you ... if you get a chance, watch the movie. It's interesting at the very least. While I think that perhaps the facts on either side of the case seem a little bit skewed, it seems that perhaps chromium VI is a little more dangerous than Fumento would have you believe. I wouldn't want to drink the water. Would you?
But this leads me to my next point: sometimes what we are presented with isn't always the truth. It's best to take a look deeper and investigate before we jump to a conclusion one way or the other.
Sources:
Fumento, Michael "Erin Brochovich Exposed" http://www.fumento.com/erinwsj.html
Brockovich, Erin "'Erin Brockovich,' Affirmed"http://www.fumento.com/brocklett.html
Department of Health and Human Services, "Chromium VI"http://www.atsdr.cdc.gov/tfacts7.html
Time.Com "Erin Brockovich's Junk Science"http://www.time.com/time/columnist/jaroff/article/0,9565,464386,00.html
Wickipedia.com "Chromium VI"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chromium_VI
Having a really busy job, I found myself watching Erin Brockovich on t.v. while I worked. I've seen it several times, but was really curious as to the reality of it. It claims it was based on a true story, but I also realize that true is sometimes a matter of opinion, and not based on fact.
So as I watched the movie, I made note of several things. Before I launch into that, let me just point out that the movie basically is a story of David vs. Goliath. A small law firm takes on a utility company for using Chromium VI that eventually contaminated the water supply in Hinkley, California. Most people have seen it or at the very least heard about it. Julia Roberts plays the part of Erin Brockovich and is the most noted actor in the movie.
As I watched the movie, several things stood out to me and I set on a small journey to determine the truth. Was the story of Erin Brockovich really true or was it more a souped-up Hollywood feel-good story invented to make someone a lot of money?
I would just like to say that ... you know, I really care about the truth. Sometimes, we accept things at face value and don't bother to ask questions about their validity. The truth is important to me; it's important to a lot of people. Sometimes, something can sound so true and seem so real, but in reality, all it is is smoke an mirrors. Let's take a look and see ...
The movie asserts that "The film tells the true story of Erin Brockovich, a legal assistant, who in 1993 lined up some 650 prospective plaintiffs from the tiny desert town of Hinkley, Calif., to sue Pacific Gas & Electric.
PG&E's nearby plant was leaching chromium 6, a rust inhibitor, into Hinkley's water supply, and the suit blamed the chemical for dozens of symptoms, ranging from nosebleeds to breast cancer, Hodgkin's disease, miscarriages and spinal deterioration. In 1996 PG&E settled the case for $333 million."
In researching the "facts" I stumbled across several articles completely contradicting the Brockovich movie and actually stating that the lawyers in the Brockovich "team" were merely sharks out to get a buck. The biggest attacker of their claims is Michael Fumento who, in The Wall Street Journal, March 28, 2000 article attacked each of the movies claims as false.
In reviewing this, let's take a look at the major facts claimed to be true in the movie:
Claim #1. Over 650 people in the town of Hinkley claimed they suffered such ailments as to be simple nosebleeds, rashes, to the more serious cancer and even death.
Michael Fumento claimed, "A study by Mr. Blot and others, just published in The Journal of Occupational and Environmental Medicine, evaluated almost 52,000 workers who worked at three PG&E plants over a quarter of a century. One was the Hinkley plant, and another is near Kettleman, Calif., where Ms. Brockovich's firm is rounding up plaintiffs today. The researchers found cancer rates were no higher than in the general California population and death rates significantly lower than expected."
Wow, that's a pretty solid argument if you ask me. If after a quarter of a century, the population and death rates were "lower than expected" then how is it that 650 people were convinced they were suffering ailments as a result of Chromium VI? I think I might have an answer to that question. But when I first read this, I was really starting to question the validity of the entire movie. After all, the attourneys in the real case did manage to get over $133 million. Was it possible that they merely wanted to take advantage of a big corporation? Let's take a closer look ...
Claim #2. Chromium VI is a dangerous chemical.According to Fumento, "We now know the scientific evidence doesn't back her [claim] up." He claims that chromium was scientifically proven to not pose a significant risk to anyone's health and any dangerous reactions are the result of inhalation not ingestion as the Brockovich team (and the movie) claim. Here's more of what he had to say, "Chromium-6, derived from ubiquitous chromite ore, is considered by the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency ... as a human carcinogen within certain limits. Its connection is only to two types of cancer, that of the lung and of the septum... Further, as one might guess from these two cancers, it's only a carcinogen when inhaled. Even then, research indicates it takes massive doses over many years and according to William J. Blot, head of the International Epidemiology Institute in Rockville, Md., "It appears the problem has been associated with production of the compounds, not the actual use." Her further stated, "According to the EPA's Integrated Risk Information System (IRIS), updated in September 1998, "No data were located in the available literature that suggested that [chromium-6] is carcinogenic by the oral route of exposure." As a slam-dunk to make his case, he further asserts, "Cancer aside, exhaustive, repeated studies of communities living adjacent to landfills with huge concentrations of chromium-6, including that detectable in residents' urine, have found no ill health effects. A report out of Glasgow, Scotland, in January indicated exposed residents showed 'no increased risk of congenital abnormalities (birth defects), lung cancer, or a range of other diseases.'" That pretty much solidifies his argument. As you might expect, Erin Brockovich herself wrote to the editor of the newspaper defending the firm's claims. Further, she claimed that people were hurt and were rightfully compensated. But Fumento's argument seems pretty solid. His argument used actual studies (and official words) while Brockovich's merely illustrated her astute grasp of the English language. I was beginning to fear that I had believed in something that was just a figment of a money-hungry lawyers imagination.
However, several questions still lingered in my mind. There were things not argued by Mr. Fumento that were a matter of unquestioned and undisputed facts. Specifically, the following:
#1) Why would PGE give in to false claims and give $333 million if chromium was completely safe? The company attempted to buy the land from the residents and even offered free water to residents. Why? Why would the company attempt to buy the land if there was no problem with it?
Fumento asserts that it was just giving in to the powerful legalities that they feared would cost them, that and the fact they were receiving bad publicity. However, the attempts to purchase the land from the residents came long before Ed Masry and Brockovich even came along and long before there was even an issue with the plants. So why would a company give money to something or for something that was harmless?
#2) How could 650 people possibly have illnesses from a chemical supposedly scientifically proven to be harmless?
Since I didn't have the answer to either of these questions, I did some further research of my own to finally put to rest whether or not this was a true story.
I found myself at the official website for the Department of Health And Human Services, specifically the Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease and looked up Chromium VI. This is an official government agency not profiting from having an opinion either way. According to the website, "Breathing high levels of chromium(VI) can cause irritation to the nose, such as runny nose, nosebleeds, and ulcers and holes in the nasal septum."
Uh oh, I noticed it said breathing not ingesting. Then I read on "Ingesting large amounts of chromium(VI) can cause stomach upsets and ulcers, convulsions, kidney and liver damage, and even death.Skin contact with certain chromium(VI) compounds can cause skin ulcers. Some people are extremely sensitive to chromium(VI) or chromium(III). Allergic reactions consisting of severe redness and swelling of the skin have been noted."
Further at the site, under the section of "how likely it is to cause cancer" it says, "Several studies have shown that chromium(VI) compounds can increase the risk of lung cancer. Animal studies have also shown an increased risk of cancer. The Department of Health and Human Services (DHHS) has determined that certain chromium(VI) compounds are known to cause cancer in humans." Oh yeah, and according to Wickipedia (I love that site), "The lethal dose of poisonous chromium (VI) compounds is about one half teaspoon of material." I should also note that one of the biggest contentions of Fumento is that the levels of Chromium noted in the movie is .58 parts per million (which is really high) but claimed that a level like that would not cause significant harm. According to Wickipedia, "The OSHA PEL for Hexavalent Chromium is 5 µg/m3 (0.005).[2]
Now, it doesn't take a scientist to figure out that .005 is much lower than .58!
Well there we go. There's the answer I was looking for, at last. The site describes chromium VI as a carginogen and extremely dangerous. Why would the utility company bother paying out $333 million dollars? Probably because they knew they had done something wrong.
My faith in truth and justice has been restored and all it took was a little bit of internet research. I would like to point out that, in doing this research, I discovered statements from Hinkley residents claiming how unhappy they were with the amount of money they received. That is truly a shame, because it's difficult to place a price tag on a human life, disease, or illness, no matter what the cause.
If the amounts gathered for the purposes of making the claimants whole weren't gathered fairly (as some claim) then I feel bad for those poor people who have suffered or continue to suffer as the result of that contamination. Hopefully the money they got was enough for their medical bills and a little bit of their pain and suffering.
I can never know what they went through. To me, the bigger picture is that winning the case was more than just about giving money to the people that were harmed. The bigger picture is to fight for the cause of justice. To fight against the use of chromium not just to give people money they felt they deserved, but to prevent the continued use of the chemical and to prevent it from happening to anyone else! It's about protecting future generations and making our world a safer place.
Anyways, I thought I would share this with you ... if you get a chance, watch the movie. It's interesting at the very least. While I think that perhaps the facts on either side of the case seem a little bit skewed, it seems that perhaps chromium VI is a little more dangerous than Fumento would have you believe. I wouldn't want to drink the water. Would you?
But this leads me to my next point: sometimes what we are presented with isn't always the truth. It's best to take a look deeper and investigate before we jump to a conclusion one way or the other.
Sources:
Fumento, Michael "Erin Brochovich Exposed" http://www.fumento.com/erinwsj.html
Brockovich, Erin "'Erin Brockovich,' Affirmed"http://www.fumento.com/brocklett.html
Department of Health and Human Services, "Chromium VI"http://www.atsdr.cdc.gov/tfacts7.html
Time.Com "Erin Brockovich's Junk Science"http://www.time.com/time/columnist/jaroff/article/0,9565,464386,00.html
Wickipedia.com "Chromium VI"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chromium_VI
So as I watched the movie, I made note of several things. Before I launch into that, let me just point out that the movie basically is a story of David vs. Goliath. A small law firm takes on a utility company for using Chromium VI that eventually contaminated the water supply in Hinkley, California. Most people have seen it or at the very least heard about it. Julia Roberts plays the part of Erin Brockovich and is the most noted actor in the movie.
As I watched the movie, several things stood out to me and I set on a small journey to determine the truth. Was the story of Erin Brockovich really true or was it more a souped-up Hollywood feel-good story invented to make someone a lot of money?
I would just like to say that ... you know, I really care about the truth. Sometimes, we accept things at face value and don't bother to ask questions about their validity. The truth is important to me; it's important to a lot of people. Sometimes, something can sound so true and seem so real, but in reality, all it is is smoke an mirrors. Let's take a look and see ...
The movie asserts that "The film tells the true story of Erin Brockovich, a legal assistant, who in 1993 lined up some 650 prospective plaintiffs from the tiny desert town of Hinkley, Calif., to sue Pacific Gas & Electric.
PG&E's nearby plant was leaching chromium 6, a rust inhibitor, into Hinkley's water supply, and the suit blamed the chemical for dozens of symptoms, ranging from nosebleeds to breast cancer, Hodgkin's disease, miscarriages and spinal deterioration. In 1996 PG&E settled the case for $333 million."
In researching the "facts" I stumbled across several articles completely contradicting the Brockovich movie and actually stating that the lawyers in the Brockovich "team" were merely sharks out to get a buck. The biggest attacker of their claims is Michael Fumento who, in The Wall Street Journal, March 28, 2000 article attacked each of the movies claims as false.
In reviewing this, let's take a look at the major facts claimed to be true in the movie:
Claim #1. Over 650 people in the town of Hinkley claimed they suffered such ailments as to be simple nosebleeds, rashes, to the more serious cancer and even death.
Michael Fumento claimed, "A study by Mr. Blot and others, just published in The Journal of Occupational and Environmental Medicine, evaluated almost 52,000 workers who worked at three PG&E plants over a quarter of a century. One was the Hinkley plant, and another is near Kettleman, Calif., where Ms. Brockovich's firm is rounding up plaintiffs today. The researchers found cancer rates were no higher than in the general California population and death rates significantly lower than expected."
Wow, that's a pretty solid argument if you ask me. If after a quarter of a century, the population and death rates were "lower than expected" then how is it that 650 people were convinced they were suffering ailments as a result of Chromium VI? I think I might have an answer to that question. But when I first read this, I was really starting to question the validity of the entire movie. After all, the attourneys in the real case did manage to get over $133 million. Was it possible that they merely wanted to take advantage of a big corporation? Let's take a closer look ...
Claim #2. Chromium VI is a dangerous chemical.According to Fumento, "We now know the scientific evidence doesn't back her [claim] up." He claims that chromium was scientifically proven to not pose a significant risk to anyone's health and any dangerous reactions are the result of inhalation not ingestion as the Brockovich team (and the movie) claim. Here's more of what he had to say, "Chromium-6, derived from ubiquitous chromite ore, is considered by the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency ... as a human carcinogen within certain limits. Its connection is only to two types of cancer, that of the lung and of the septum... Further, as one might guess from these two cancers, it's only a carcinogen when inhaled. Even then, research indicates it takes massive doses over many years and according to William J. Blot, head of the International Epidemiology Institute in Rockville, Md., "It appears the problem has been associated with production of the compounds, not the actual use." Her further stated, "According to the EPA's Integrated Risk Information System (IRIS), updated in September 1998, "No data were located in the available literature that suggested that [chromium-6] is carcinogenic by the oral route of exposure." As a slam-dunk to make his case, he further asserts, "Cancer aside, exhaustive, repeated studies of communities living adjacent to landfills with huge concentrations of chromium-6, including that detectable in residents' urine, have found no ill health effects. A report out of Glasgow, Scotland, in January indicated exposed residents showed 'no increased risk of congenital abnormalities (birth defects), lung cancer, or a range of other diseases.'" That pretty much solidifies his argument. As you might expect, Erin Brockovich herself wrote to the editor of the newspaper defending the firm's claims. Further, she claimed that people were hurt and were rightfully compensated. But Fumento's argument seems pretty solid. His argument used actual studies (and official words) while Brockovich's merely illustrated her astute grasp of the English language. I was beginning to fear that I had believed in something that was just a figment of a money-hungry lawyers imagination.
However, several questions still lingered in my mind. There were things not argued by Mr. Fumento that were a matter of unquestioned and undisputed facts. Specifically, the following:
#1) Why would PGE give in to false claims and give $333 million if chromium was completely safe? The company attempted to buy the land from the residents and even offered free water to residents. Why? Why would the company attempt to buy the land if there was no problem with it?
Fumento asserts that it was just giving in to the powerful legalities that they feared would cost them, that and the fact they were receiving bad publicity. However, the attempts to purchase the land from the residents came long before Ed Masry and Brockovich even came along and long before there was even an issue with the plants. So why would a company give money to something or for something that was harmless?
#2) How could 650 people possibly have illnesses from a chemical supposedly scientifically proven to be harmless?
Since I didn't have the answer to either of these questions, I did some further research of my own to finally put to rest whether or not this was a true story.
I found myself at the official website for the Department of Health And Human Services, specifically the Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease and looked up Chromium VI. This is an official government agency not profiting from having an opinion either way. According to the website, "Breathing high levels of chromium(VI) can cause irritation to the nose, such as runny nose, nosebleeds, and ulcers and holes in the nasal septum."
Uh oh, I noticed it said breathing not ingesting. Then I read on "Ingesting large amounts of chromium(VI) can cause stomach upsets and ulcers, convulsions, kidney and liver damage, and even death.Skin contact with certain chromium(VI) compounds can cause skin ulcers. Some people are extremely sensitive to chromium(VI) or chromium(III). Allergic reactions consisting of severe redness and swelling of the skin have been noted."
Further at the site, under the section of "how likely it is to cause cancer" it says, "Several studies have shown that chromium(VI) compounds can increase the risk of lung cancer. Animal studies have also shown an increased risk of cancer. The Department of Health and Human Services (DHHS) has determined that certain chromium(VI) compounds are known to cause cancer in humans." Oh yeah, and according to Wickipedia (I love that site), "The lethal dose of poisonous chromium (VI) compounds is about one half teaspoon of material." I should also note that one of the biggest contentions of Fumento is that the levels of Chromium noted in the movie is .58 parts per million (which is really high) but claimed that a level like that would not cause significant harm. According to Wickipedia, "The OSHA PEL for Hexavalent Chromium is 5 µg/m3 (0.005).[2]
Now, it doesn't take a scientist to figure out that .005 is much lower than .58!
Well there we go. There's the answer I was looking for, at last. The site describes chromium VI as a carginogen and extremely dangerous. Why would the utility company bother paying out $333 million dollars? Probably because they knew they had done something wrong.
My faith in truth and justice has been restored and all it took was a little bit of internet research. I would like to point out that, in doing this research, I discovered statements from Hinkley residents claiming how unhappy they were with the amount of money they received. That is truly a shame, because it's difficult to place a price tag on a human life, disease, or illness, no matter what the cause.
If the amounts gathered for the purposes of making the claimants whole weren't gathered fairly (as some claim) then I feel bad for those poor people who have suffered or continue to suffer as the result of that contamination. Hopefully the money they got was enough for their medical bills and a little bit of their pain and suffering.
I can never know what they went through. To me, the bigger picture is that winning the case was more than just about giving money to the people that were harmed. The bigger picture is to fight for the cause of justice. To fight against the use of chromium not just to give people money they felt they deserved, but to prevent the continued use of the chemical and to prevent it from happening to anyone else! It's about protecting future generations and making our world a safer place.
Anyways, I thought I would share this with you ... if you get a chance, watch the movie. It's interesting at the very least. While I think that perhaps the facts on either side of the case seem a little bit skewed, it seems that perhaps chromium VI is a little more dangerous than Fumento would have you believe. I wouldn't want to drink the water. Would you?
But this leads me to my next point: sometimes what we are presented with isn't always the truth. It's best to take a look deeper and investigate before we jump to a conclusion one way or the other.
Sources:
Fumento, Michael "Erin Brochovich Exposed" http://www.fumento.com/erinwsj.html
Brockovich, Erin "'Erin Brockovich,' Affirmed"http://www.fumento.com/brocklett.html
Department of Health and Human Services, "Chromium VI"http://www.atsdr.cdc.gov/tfacts7.html
Time.Com "Erin Brockovich's Junk Science"http://www.time.com/time/columnist/jaroff/article/0,9565,464386,00.html
Wickipedia.com "Chromium VI"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chromium_VI
Saturday, May 12, 2007
I have always been the type of person to really soak up life. But there are times when my enthusiasm gets the better of me and my personality becomes ... I don't know, perhaps too much for others to handle. Perhaps I am just a little too sarcastic, or my words hit a little too close to home. Whatever the case, I will explain more tomorrow when I am well rested ...
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Instant Gratification
So I was talking to my sister about this, and we both agree that everyone seems to always want instant gratification in our society today.
They want, need a distraction so they turn to things that gratify them instantly: sex, drugs, pills, and alcohol. Or perhaps it's to a relationship that can give them what they want right now. We are so bombarded with all the things that come our way, that we are easily distracted and when we see something we want, we want it now. We have become a society that places emphasis on what you get as opposed to what you give.
I think the biggest danger in instant gratification is that it becomes an addiction to us. Even if we manage to give up that addiction, we slowly adapt something else to be addicted to. I think we move quickly from thing to thing because we are a society where we are easily bored and are always looking for a new "fix" a new high to keep from reminding us the truth of the world. It's not always that awesome, amazing place we thought it would or should be.
Our addictions are the ways we distract our hearts from feeling, distract our minds from thinking, and in essence, for just a moment we can pretend the world is as we want it to be, not as it actually is.
The difficulty here lies in our inability to form strong connections with other people. More often than not, people don't follow through with what they say they will do-a result of trying to take too much on and do too many things at once.
We heard a message at church over the weekend to "slow down" and I think it starts with our mentality. "Slowing down" isn't just about taking a day of rest, it's about trying to bite off more than we can chew, taking on too many tasks at once. "Learn to say no" was one of the main messages given to us. I think it especially necessary to learn to say no... to ourselves.
When we can't follow through with what we say, we let each other down, and unknowingly begin to lose the trust of our friends and loved ones. We slowly start to slip away and become more and more addicted to the next fix. Pretty soon, we are nothing more than a hollow, empty shell of a person. We need to learn to say no to ourselves, learn that we need to be patient, not always running after the "newer and better."
It reminds me of an ex boyfriend who told me about the "shiny penny" syndrome. If you have a group of pennies that are old, none of them stick out. But you put a new, shiny penny in the bunch, and suddenly, you can't help but stare at the shiny penny. Pretty soon, that penny isn't shiny anymore and you have to look for the next shiny penny.
To show you the example in terms of people, let's say a group of three people meet and are friends. They hang out with one another a lot and have a good time. But they know one another so well, they begin to flake on one another-because they are becoming familiar with them and bored. But once you introduce a new friend to the group, they are like the shiny penny that will draw the friends in again. In relationships, I have seen the same thing. After a few months, the girlfriend (or sometimes the boyfriend) becomes the old penny. Day after day, week after week, everything becomes the same, becomes routine. Not because they are not exciting people, but because you know them and who they are. Suddenly, you are bored and start to wonder if it's just you or if your relationship is doomed. You can't help but want to breathe life back into your relationship, but you've both become the used penny. So when the guy meets the new "shiny" penny, she might not be as cute or awesome or wonderful as you. She is just new and shiny and everyone is excited by the unknown.
This is why, I believe, so many relationships / marriages fail. Our need for instant gratification and the constant "new penny" syndrome makes us constantly want for more and never lets us be satisfied with what we have.
This is also why I believe guys are attracted to what are typically considered "crazy" girls. I think that they are attracted to them for several reasons that are easy to see. These could also apply in "crazy guy" but realistically, I think guys become more easily bored than girls.
#1) "Crazy" girl is difficult to figure out (because she's crazy) and difficult to figure out = a puzzle which = fun. Let's face it, if we know and understand someone, you'd think that would = great person we get along with. But what it typically means for most guys = boring and routine. Boring and routine = bad.
#2) "Crazy" girls typically stays like a new, shiny penny longer, because they are unpredictable (again, I sound like a broken record but-this is because they are crazy!) But again, unpredictable = fun. Us girls that have a decent job, our lives are mostly squared away, and we don't have significant issues = boring and routine. As I said above, boring and routine = bad.
#3) "Crazy" girls typically don't care about anyone but themselves. Why is it that crazy people are so focused on themselves? Hmm... again, they are crazy! But the thing that makes them interesting is that they are so focused on themselves that they don't focus on the guy which instantly makes them more attractive. Because they guy looks at it with his ego like, "how come they aren't paying attention to me? I'm hot stuff." And the girl blows him off. When she doesn't pay the attention to him he feels he deserves, it becomes like a game, a puzzle. A game or puzzle = chase which = fun. Guys are preditory animals and most men need to chase their prey and eventually win it over. Thus, while they say they don't like to play games, they inevitably do it anyway!
#4) "Crazy" girl ends up being with Mr. Nice Guy because Mr. Nice Guy gets stuck. There are things about crazy girl he likes. He doesn't want to be Mr. "Fix It" but at the same time, he does. He likes the attention and likes to feel wanted and needed. In attempting to fix her problems, it enables him to avoid his. Inevitably, however, he realizes there are several things about crazy girl he doesn't like: her instability, her intimacy issues, her insecurities. But at the same time, it becomes difficult to leave because at the same time, she is giving him the excitement that he craves.
So after all this, what is the solution? I think the secret is that we all have issues of our own device. We all have our own little bit of "crazy" but inevitably we will all become the dull penny eventually. The secret, it would seem, is to find someone who recognizes in us our potential. No one wants to settle for boring or routine. But I think that's what we really need. We are encouraged to go for the "shiny" penny and to abandon the old one. But what if we stopped wanting things now? What if our lives could stop centering around instant gratification?
It's funny how we emphasize the importance of "getting your life together" but I can say from personal experience that having my life semi-together is intimidating and boring. And as I've said a million times now, routine = boring. Normal = boring.
So then we turn back to instant gratification and being the shiny penny. I don't know if there's a way around it. I can only hope that someone looks at me and is able to see the shiny penny underneath despite whatever might build up along the way. And let's face it, let's hope I am able to recognize them too, because it's so easy to get lost in the sea of tarnished faces.
They want, need a distraction so they turn to things that gratify them instantly: sex, drugs, pills, and alcohol. Or perhaps it's to a relationship that can give them what they want right now. We are so bombarded with all the things that come our way, that we are easily distracted and when we see something we want, we want it now. We have become a society that places emphasis on what you get as opposed to what you give.
I think the biggest danger in instant gratification is that it becomes an addiction to us. Even if we manage to give up that addiction, we slowly adapt something else to be addicted to. I think we move quickly from thing to thing because we are a society where we are easily bored and are always looking for a new "fix" a new high to keep from reminding us the truth of the world. It's not always that awesome, amazing place we thought it would or should be.
Our addictions are the ways we distract our hearts from feeling, distract our minds from thinking, and in essence, for just a moment we can pretend the world is as we want it to be, not as it actually is.
The difficulty here lies in our inability to form strong connections with other people. More often than not, people don't follow through with what they say they will do-a result of trying to take too much on and do too many things at once.
We heard a message at church over the weekend to "slow down" and I think it starts with our mentality. "Slowing down" isn't just about taking a day of rest, it's about trying to bite off more than we can chew, taking on too many tasks at once. "Learn to say no" was one of the main messages given to us. I think it especially necessary to learn to say no... to ourselves.
When we can't follow through with what we say, we let each other down, and unknowingly begin to lose the trust of our friends and loved ones. We slowly start to slip away and become more and more addicted to the next fix. Pretty soon, we are nothing more than a hollow, empty shell of a person. We need to learn to say no to ourselves, learn that we need to be patient, not always running after the "newer and better."
It reminds me of an ex boyfriend who told me about the "shiny penny" syndrome. If you have a group of pennies that are old, none of them stick out. But you put a new, shiny penny in the bunch, and suddenly, you can't help but stare at the shiny penny. Pretty soon, that penny isn't shiny anymore and you have to look for the next shiny penny.
To show you the example in terms of people, let's say a group of three people meet and are friends. They hang out with one another a lot and have a good time. But they know one another so well, they begin to flake on one another-because they are becoming familiar with them and bored. But once you introduce a new friend to the group, they are like the shiny penny that will draw the friends in again. In relationships, I have seen the same thing. After a few months, the girlfriend (or sometimes the boyfriend) becomes the old penny. Day after day, week after week, everything becomes the same, becomes routine. Not because they are not exciting people, but because you know them and who they are. Suddenly, you are bored and start to wonder if it's just you or if your relationship is doomed. You can't help but want to breathe life back into your relationship, but you've both become the used penny. So when the guy meets the new "shiny" penny, she might not be as cute or awesome or wonderful as you. She is just new and shiny and everyone is excited by the unknown.
This is why, I believe, so many relationships / marriages fail. Our need for instant gratification and the constant "new penny" syndrome makes us constantly want for more and never lets us be satisfied with what we have.
This is also why I believe guys are attracted to what are typically considered "crazy" girls. I think that they are attracted to them for several reasons that are easy to see. These could also apply in "crazy guy" but realistically, I think guys become more easily bored than girls.
#1) "Crazy" girl is difficult to figure out (because she's crazy) and difficult to figure out = a puzzle which = fun. Let's face it, if we know and understand someone, you'd think that would = great person we get along with. But what it typically means for most guys = boring and routine. Boring and routine = bad.
#2) "Crazy" girls typically stays like a new, shiny penny longer, because they are unpredictable (again, I sound like a broken record but-this is because they are crazy!) But again, unpredictable = fun. Us girls that have a decent job, our lives are mostly squared away, and we don't have significant issues = boring and routine. As I said above, boring and routine = bad.
#3) "Crazy" girls typically don't care about anyone but themselves. Why is it that crazy people are so focused on themselves? Hmm... again, they are crazy! But the thing that makes them interesting is that they are so focused on themselves that they don't focus on the guy which instantly makes them more attractive. Because they guy looks at it with his ego like, "how come they aren't paying attention to me? I'm hot stuff." And the girl blows him off. When she doesn't pay the attention to him he feels he deserves, it becomes like a game, a puzzle. A game or puzzle = chase which = fun. Guys are preditory animals and most men need to chase their prey and eventually win it over. Thus, while they say they don't like to play games, they inevitably do it anyway!
#4) "Crazy" girl ends up being with Mr. Nice Guy because Mr. Nice Guy gets stuck. There are things about crazy girl he likes. He doesn't want to be Mr. "Fix It" but at the same time, he does. He likes the attention and likes to feel wanted and needed. In attempting to fix her problems, it enables him to avoid his. Inevitably, however, he realizes there are several things about crazy girl he doesn't like: her instability, her intimacy issues, her insecurities. But at the same time, it becomes difficult to leave because at the same time, she is giving him the excitement that he craves.
So after all this, what is the solution? I think the secret is that we all have issues of our own device. We all have our own little bit of "crazy" but inevitably we will all become the dull penny eventually. The secret, it would seem, is to find someone who recognizes in us our potential. No one wants to settle for boring or routine. But I think that's what we really need. We are encouraged to go for the "shiny" penny and to abandon the old one. But what if we stopped wanting things now? What if our lives could stop centering around instant gratification?
It's funny how we emphasize the importance of "getting your life together" but I can say from personal experience that having my life semi-together is intimidating and boring. And as I've said a million times now, routine = boring. Normal = boring.
So then we turn back to instant gratification and being the shiny penny. I don't know if there's a way around it. I can only hope that someone looks at me and is able to see the shiny penny underneath despite whatever might build up along the way. And let's face it, let's hope I am able to recognize them too, because it's so easy to get lost in the sea of tarnished faces.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Interesting Idea
It was late when I got home; the rain had begun misting my windshield and as I made my way up the long ascending hill to my house, it began dropping in larger droplets, splattering on the ground and the roof.
Even though one of my favorite songs was playing on the radio, my thoughts were a million miles away. I was thinking about him, thinking about the things I had said, the things I hadn't said, the things I wanted to say. But life was funny that way, the way you were always torn between what you wanted, and the difficulties of crossing the unspoken boundaries between friendship and something more.
I shouldn't want anything more, should have just left it all as it was, but there was something in my heart that wouldn't let me find peace. It was a silent whisper in my soul and yet, I found it ridiculous. It was just like my character to like that which I couldn't have.
Pulling into my driveway, I turned out my lights, debating on whether or not to run to my door as I had forgotten my umbrella yet again-clearly a mistake in the rainy season. I grabbed an extra sweater in the backseat and held it over my head as I made my way across the sidewalk and up the stairs to the place I called home. It was freezing, my breath making short puffs as I hurried to my door.
I reached my door and was startled by a voice behind me. "Sarah ..." There he was, his long brown hair dripping wet. He had waited in the cold rain on my porch for me to come home.
"What are you doing here?" I quickly opened the door and stomped my feet on the welcome mat.
"I didn't know when you'd be here. I was ... waiting for you." he said, his voice barely a whisper above the sound of the pouring rain. He was dressed in jeans and a sweater, no coat, no umbrella.
"Come inside, hurry!" I exclaimed, ushering him inside as the rain picked up its tempo.
He came inside, slowly, deliberately, shutting the door quietly behind him. He stood at the front door, staring at me as though there were miles between us.
His silence was strange to me, given the fact that we always had something to say to one another.
"Here, let me take your coat ..." I approached, realizing that he was not wearing a coat and I was dangerously close to him. The smell of rain and cologne drifted up and overtook me. As I came closer, he made no move away from me. It was as if there were unspoken words on our lips and neither of us knew where to begin.
I stopped and cocked my head slightly to the side in puzzlement.
"You left and didn't say a word about where you were going." His dark eyes were pools of emotions I couldn't understand.
"I didn't know where I was going. I just wanted to get away." I said. "I felt as though I was suffocating.""But why?""Because of the questions you were asking me..."
"You left so quickly, it seemed strange."
I shrugged.
"You've always let me in," he continued, staring straight at me. "You've always told me what's on your mind. Why is it different now?"
I couldn't meet his gaze, my eyes dropping to the floor. I couldn't tell him the truth, couldn't tell him that he had gotten too close. I had made myself vulnerable and had let him in. Some day soon, one of us was going to get hurt when the other walked away. And since I could never tell him how I felt, it would easily be me.
I don't know if he was expecting an answer, but I just stayed quiet; I could feel his gaze piercing a hole right through me and I considered the idea, for just a moment, that he already knew how I felt.
Only a couple of seconds passed as I stared at the floor, but they were like hours and days to my heart. I glanced up and found that his gaze had not broken. As he looked down on me, droplets of water gathered at the ends of his hair and dropped onto his sweater. Without thinking, I reached up to catch another droplet as it started to fall.
Catching it in my hand, I felt his hand reach up and grasp mine. His hands were strong, powerful, comforting. My breath caught in my throat as he pulled me closer to him and for just a moment, I thought that he was going to hug me. But instead, his lips met mine and in surprise, I jerked my head back, but he did not relax his grip. His strong arms wrapped themselves around me and instantly, I felt a warmth spread through my entire body.
He didn't say a word, just smiled and kissed me again and again and again, our faces melting together as if it had always been that way. It was as if all of our unspoken questions were answered, and that something that existed between us had finally been realized. In that moment, everything was perfect. Two hearts, having been friends so long, finally came together for one perfect moment in time.
So I'd like to say it all had a happy ending but ... like so many stories, this one isn't true ... But I wanted to give a romantic "blurb" a try to see how I could do with it ... see if I was any good.
There was a guy in college (I can picture this happening in Oregon-thus the rain) who was a good friend of mine and always had a crush on this girl ... but he never told her. And she, unknown to us, had a crush on him --but never told him. This is like a moment in time in their untold story ... Although, I think they actually got married in real life (if this is you-and you know who you are--congrats, by the way).
Honestly, I wish this was really true for me. I put my name in because ... I think would be super awesome to have someone ... I don't know ... like me like that.... perhaps it was at one time, or will be in the future. For now, a girl can dream, right?
If it sucks, tell me!
Even though one of my favorite songs was playing on the radio, my thoughts were a million miles away. I was thinking about him, thinking about the things I had said, the things I hadn't said, the things I wanted to say. But life was funny that way, the way you were always torn between what you wanted, and the difficulties of crossing the unspoken boundaries between friendship and something more.
I shouldn't want anything more, should have just left it all as it was, but there was something in my heart that wouldn't let me find peace. It was a silent whisper in my soul and yet, I found it ridiculous. It was just like my character to like that which I couldn't have.
Pulling into my driveway, I turned out my lights, debating on whether or not to run to my door as I had forgotten my umbrella yet again-clearly a mistake in the rainy season. I grabbed an extra sweater in the backseat and held it over my head as I made my way across the sidewalk and up the stairs to the place I called home. It was freezing, my breath making short puffs as I hurried to my door.
I reached my door and was startled by a voice behind me. "Sarah ..." There he was, his long brown hair dripping wet. He had waited in the cold rain on my porch for me to come home.
"What are you doing here?" I quickly opened the door and stomped my feet on the welcome mat.
"I didn't know when you'd be here. I was ... waiting for you." he said, his voice barely a whisper above the sound of the pouring rain. He was dressed in jeans and a sweater, no coat, no umbrella.
"Come inside, hurry!" I exclaimed, ushering him inside as the rain picked up its tempo.
He came inside, slowly, deliberately, shutting the door quietly behind him. He stood at the front door, staring at me as though there were miles between us.
His silence was strange to me, given the fact that we always had something to say to one another.
"Here, let me take your coat ..." I approached, realizing that he was not wearing a coat and I was dangerously close to him. The smell of rain and cologne drifted up and overtook me. As I came closer, he made no move away from me. It was as if there were unspoken words on our lips and neither of us knew where to begin.
I stopped and cocked my head slightly to the side in puzzlement.
"You left and didn't say a word about where you were going." His dark eyes were pools of emotions I couldn't understand.
"I didn't know where I was going. I just wanted to get away." I said. "I felt as though I was suffocating.""But why?""Because of the questions you were asking me..."
"You left so quickly, it seemed strange."
I shrugged.
"You've always let me in," he continued, staring straight at me. "You've always told me what's on your mind. Why is it different now?"
I couldn't meet his gaze, my eyes dropping to the floor. I couldn't tell him the truth, couldn't tell him that he had gotten too close. I had made myself vulnerable and had let him in. Some day soon, one of us was going to get hurt when the other walked away. And since I could never tell him how I felt, it would easily be me.
I don't know if he was expecting an answer, but I just stayed quiet; I could feel his gaze piercing a hole right through me and I considered the idea, for just a moment, that he already knew how I felt.
Only a couple of seconds passed as I stared at the floor, but they were like hours and days to my heart. I glanced up and found that his gaze had not broken. As he looked down on me, droplets of water gathered at the ends of his hair and dropped onto his sweater. Without thinking, I reached up to catch another droplet as it started to fall.
Catching it in my hand, I felt his hand reach up and grasp mine. His hands were strong, powerful, comforting. My breath caught in my throat as he pulled me closer to him and for just a moment, I thought that he was going to hug me. But instead, his lips met mine and in surprise, I jerked my head back, but he did not relax his grip. His strong arms wrapped themselves around me and instantly, I felt a warmth spread through my entire body.
He didn't say a word, just smiled and kissed me again and again and again, our faces melting together as if it had always been that way. It was as if all of our unspoken questions were answered, and that something that existed between us had finally been realized. In that moment, everything was perfect. Two hearts, having been friends so long, finally came together for one perfect moment in time.
So I'd like to say it all had a happy ending but ... like so many stories, this one isn't true ... But I wanted to give a romantic "blurb" a try to see how I could do with it ... see if I was any good.
There was a guy in college (I can picture this happening in Oregon-thus the rain) who was a good friend of mine and always had a crush on this girl ... but he never told her. And she, unknown to us, had a crush on him --but never told him. This is like a moment in time in their untold story ... Although, I think they actually got married in real life (if this is you-and you know who you are--congrats, by the way).
Honestly, I wish this was really true for me. I put my name in because ... I think would be super awesome to have someone ... I don't know ... like me like that.... perhaps it was at one time, or will be in the future. For now, a girl can dream, right?
If it sucks, tell me!
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Getting Older
So here's a random thought: I was driving home today and while driving down a really really busy street, I noticed this older gentleman who is probably around his late sixties, early seventies, trying to cross the road in the middle of the traffic. He wasn't at a light or a signal. Just trying to go across the way so many people do in Santa Ana: just run out into traffic-after all, people will slow down.
What made his effort so unbelievable was the fact that the man couldn't go very fast. He was the equivalent of one of those people who should be using a walker, but doesn't perhaps out of their own stubborness or perhaps because, on this ocassion, he decided to leave the walker at home and thought he'd have a better chance of going solo.
It was almost funny. But it wasn't. My first thoughts were that after my errand down the street, it wouldn't surprise me if, on my return trip, he was still making his way across the traffic. The only problem is, moving that slow on a busy street seemed more like an act of suicide than the actions of a man simply out for an afternoon stroll.
So I suppose he made it all right: when I returned from my errand, I half expected to see him-but he was gone.
Still, it made me realize that if I wanted to cross the street right now, I could. If I wanted to go sky-diving or snow-skiing naked, I could. I have my arms and legs and can walk or even run if I feel like it. That should never be taken for granted because one day I realize that I'm not going to have the ability to do that anymore, and I'm going to long for the days I did.
I don't want to live my life thinking of what I could have done. Which reminds me of the post I put up a couple of days ago. I chase after things I want (especially love) because I don't want to look back and think, "I could have done that if only I tried." I could have had love if only I would have asked for it.
The only problem is, I feel like I'm a good person. But I didn't get to choose the package I came in. I got to come in this one. And quite frankly, if all I am judged by is how I look (good or bad) then I would rather have the priveledge and honor of being alone for the rest of my life than the curse of being with someone who places emphasis on what I look like. Because seeing that old guy today only reminded me that there will come a day when none of us will look pretty anymore. I'd rather have someone by my side I trusted and cared about, than the most handsome guy I know. I'm okay with being single forever if it means not having to always feel as though I'm not good enough in some way.
Those people who judge people based on looks are the ones I know are the most immature. It doesn't surprise me when I find them, years later, miserable. They found their "perfect mate" but had to pay a price for it in the end. But that's another topic for another blog ...
Meanwhile, enjoy what you have while you have it. Seriously ... we are going to be old and wrinkley and unable to move someday. Guess we'd better be able to enjoy it now.
One final note: I took a walk today and found myself on a trail that leads to the ocean. The vast beauty stretched across the sky and the shore was dotted with boats too small to make out in the distance. The wind was blowing gently, the sky was clear, and a feeling of complete peace overcame me. A lot of scary things have happened lately with my health and personal life and I know that even though I will one day get older, and one day lose my ability to walk across the street because my legs might not taking me, knowing not only that I could have, but that I can will make all the difference. And maybe, fourty years from now will find me trying to cross the sea of cars if only to look for some fleeting adventure on the other side.
What made his effort so unbelievable was the fact that the man couldn't go very fast. He was the equivalent of one of those people who should be using a walker, but doesn't perhaps out of their own stubborness or perhaps because, on this ocassion, he decided to leave the walker at home and thought he'd have a better chance of going solo.
It was almost funny. But it wasn't. My first thoughts were that after my errand down the street, it wouldn't surprise me if, on my return trip, he was still making his way across the traffic. The only problem is, moving that slow on a busy street seemed more like an act of suicide than the actions of a man simply out for an afternoon stroll.
So I suppose he made it all right: when I returned from my errand, I half expected to see him-but he was gone.
Still, it made me realize that if I wanted to cross the street right now, I could. If I wanted to go sky-diving or snow-skiing naked, I could. I have my arms and legs and can walk or even run if I feel like it. That should never be taken for granted because one day I realize that I'm not going to have the ability to do that anymore, and I'm going to long for the days I did.
I don't want to live my life thinking of what I could have done. Which reminds me of the post I put up a couple of days ago. I chase after things I want (especially love) because I don't want to look back and think, "I could have done that if only I tried." I could have had love if only I would have asked for it.
The only problem is, I feel like I'm a good person. But I didn't get to choose the package I came in. I got to come in this one. And quite frankly, if all I am judged by is how I look (good or bad) then I would rather have the priveledge and honor of being alone for the rest of my life than the curse of being with someone who places emphasis on what I look like. Because seeing that old guy today only reminded me that there will come a day when none of us will look pretty anymore. I'd rather have someone by my side I trusted and cared about, than the most handsome guy I know. I'm okay with being single forever if it means not having to always feel as though I'm not good enough in some way.
Those people who judge people based on looks are the ones I know are the most immature. It doesn't surprise me when I find them, years later, miserable. They found their "perfect mate" but had to pay a price for it in the end. But that's another topic for another blog ...
Meanwhile, enjoy what you have while you have it. Seriously ... we are going to be old and wrinkley and unable to move someday. Guess we'd better be able to enjoy it now.
One final note: I took a walk today and found myself on a trail that leads to the ocean. The vast beauty stretched across the sky and the shore was dotted with boats too small to make out in the distance. The wind was blowing gently, the sky was clear, and a feeling of complete peace overcame me. A lot of scary things have happened lately with my health and personal life and I know that even though I will one day get older, and one day lose my ability to walk across the street because my legs might not taking me, knowing not only that I could have, but that I can will make all the difference. And maybe, fourty years from now will find me trying to cross the sea of cars if only to look for some fleeting adventure on the other side.
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