repeat

I knew it was bound to happen at some point. But still, so soon? I'm only 24...

Here's the thing. I've grown up with a most common name my entire life. There are only so many names and mine is pretty popular... ha. So, as I've gotten older, it's amusing to see the name similarities or identicalness I've found with the more people I've met. These tickle and confuse me simultaneously as at some point I know my old mind will start to confuse the people.

But as of late, what's even more intriguing to me is the personality similarities. I mean, please, people my whole life have had similarities and reminded me of each other. But now, living so far from home, where no one from my day-to-day live here is related to or attached to my life at home in any way, I find the personality similarities fascinating.

In the past month, I've met two people who each in their own way remind me of people from home. The first reminds me of a close, close college friend, the second of an ex-boyfriend. Both similarities are so similar, not necessarily in look or personal relationship to me, but in senses of humor, reactions to situations, speaking patterns, mannerisms... it's uncanny. I find myself utterly at a loss of words and just kind of starring at moments because I'm so confused by the feeling of seeing someone else when I look at them. And of themselves, I think they're great people... or are they? Am I seeing them, am I getting to know them, or am I confusing myself with the feelings I feel towards the people they remind me of? Most perplexing.

At any rate, I mean, I know there are only so many people in the world and things we can do and like and think and feel about situations, but isn't 24 a little early to be meeting so many people that remind me of so many other people? Shouldn't I still be meeting people who are simply people? (I mean I am, but also these double people.)

Just a little food for thought...

And, not to sound like a broken record, but I plan on writing more frequently. I think I get bent out of shape about having to have a long thing to write about, but maybe I'll try to insert some short, sweet posts in here, just so I seem a bit more reliable. :)

x's and o's, peace and love.

ice cream for one

let me paint a picture for you. this picture would be titled: my friday night. i spent a large portion of my day away from work, and as often when i'm not working, alone. this doesn't bother me. the older i've gotten, i've found that i enjoy the independence, the time to think, absorb myself in music, or get lost in a book or tv show. the perks include always getting to do what i want to do, when i want to do it. really, there's no downside. at any rate, so, as it was a lovely day out (after a week of cold and rain), i thought i'd take advantage of what could be my last afternoon of sunlight for awhile and go walking on a walking path about twenty minutes from where i live. so, i go about my merry business, plug in the ipod, take it slow, just walking, enjoying the weather. a little over an hour later, i'm like, i could go for some food. there's a quizno's down the block, so i grab a grinder (oh, east coast...), sit at the bar by the window and eat my grinder. then i walk down the block, a cute little very italian block, with lots of italian restaurants and outdoor seating, and can't help but note that i've stumbled into date night. every table is a couple, which, i suppose, makes sense as it is dinner time on a friday night. regardless, i continue to stroll on my merry way. i spy an ice cream parlor and decide to go in, order a small cone. i do this, the girl gives me the largest cone of ice cream of my life. not one to complain, as i do love ice cream, i take it and go sit on a park bench outside. in the span of the 20 minutes that i sat there, the only people who passed me: couples. and every single set looked at me with judgment. what is a 20-something girl doing by herself on a friday night, sitting solo on a park bench here on romance road, eating the largest ice cream cone that man has ever made? and despite the fact that i am so used to and so comfortable spending time solo, something about being out there for all to see and judge just shook me. and i thought realistically, this could still be me in ten years, twenty years, fifty years down the road. at what point would it be okay with everyone for a girl to sit solo enjoying an ice cream cone on a park bench on a friday evening?

i chose this profession and so for as long as i choose to keep it, i am married to it. i love it so, but then there are the rare friday nights where you are by yourself, eating an ice cream cone on one end of an empty bench while love blooms for all around. a marriage where your spouse doesn't go out to eat with you, go for walks with you, go to concerts or on picnics or grocery shopping. a marriage where the other half of the bed is empty. for now, this is what i choose. and i'm okay with that. so i hope you can be too.

some sort of pot or kettle backtracking

From the last post, it should be noted: I do very much enjoy and like the people who did the questioning of me. And while that style of questioning irks me, it is most like bemusing to any and all who knew me in KS, as I realized post-posting that post (har?), that I have myself been the leader and have asked those questions of the lucky or unlucky ones who have stumbled into the JoCo group I was a member of, and still am really, all my life. The reassurance of having that group gave me self-confidence that I still am frequently lacking here in CT, as I sit on the other side of the table.

I said as I sat there at that table last night, that I would not move back to KS. That is not true. It's not my plan, but whatever happens, happens. And while I was happy and content and a little buzzed from my drink, I was okay here. But in the morning I woke up, and the first thing that happened, as it does many mornings, was a pang in my heart- I miss my family. I miss my parents, I miss my brother, I miss my life there. Because one life is going does not mean the other stops. It is surreal and difficult and really, really hard to miss so much that goes on with them in a day-to-day world. While moving away has truly taught me to appreciate them, at what point does it become selfish for me to continue to stay so far away?

This is a post simply stating: I like everyone. I hope everyone likes me. Your confidence irritates me when I don't have it, and I recognize how my confidence can irritate others when I did (and still do) have it.

Peace and Love, X's and O's.

questioning

This is a post about questioning. This is a wide topic. It encompasses the questions we ask of ourselves, as well of those that others ask of us. And furthermore, what causes some to ask those questions so plaguingly (not a word, but I totally just made it one) of themselves, and what causes others to ask them so openly of each other?

First off, at some point last week, I had several occurrences where people were discussing things that were appropriate growing up versus appropriate now. For the most part, what they said were things that were much more liberal than my upbringing. Being the sunflower standing alone in a sea of mountain laurels (yes, I did just look up the CT state flower in order to make that work), a lot of it is credited to my Midwestern upbringing (by those who have never been there), as anyone who was born and raised on the Coast can not comprehend that my hometown and college town are both populationally (another word made up by yours truly) and most otherwise modernized more so than any town I've seen here. Yes, I come from a Red State. Lord knows that's something I've overcome. But I've always lived somewhere with running water, electricity, goodness gracious, even the internet! (Have we all so quickly forgotten Google, Kansas?? Not only do we have electricity, but our capital is making a fool in attempts of gaining the highest speed internet...) But irregardless, the sheer fact that I was not running on East Coast beaches every summer and didn't met any juice heads until I moved out here somehow diminishes the value of my opinion or superiorizes (all me) others' upbringings over my own. I've lived here for nearly two years and it's still so shocking that people I find otherwise to be completely intelligent, decent human beings, still devalue my thoughts and feelings based on not growing up here. Which leads me to my next section of questioning...

Out with a group of people tonight, all of whom I know on a somewhat acquaintance at least level, but of course, being the only one not born and raised here, they are all more familiar with each other than I am, all having histories that I didn't witness, and no amount of re-creating old stories will make me further a part of that history. Nonetheless, they like me, I like them, but I find myself being put on the spot, in an almost interview-esque style, questioning and quizzing me on my lifestyle choices, who I want to be, where I want to go, what I want to do. As if asking these big questions in such a presentational way will not only get you a deep honest answer (which it won't, as my being put on display will involve me giving an honest, but as brief an answer as possible, so the spotlight will glare into someone else's pupils) but help us to somehow play catch up into close, close friends. ...I will never understand this style of getting to know you. I am now in display, as uncomfortably as possible, being asked to get emotionally naked and share my deepest thoughts, feelings, desires, dreams, with people who can sit back and watch, judge, comfortable in their already formed friendships, secure from being raised together, from always knowing what everyone else wanted to do, because they've always seen everyone else grow up.

What do you want to do with your life? Ha. Like anyone ever has a complete answer to that question? I definitely do not and I stumble all over trying to answer it whenever anyone has the audacity to ask it. I want to be happy. I want always to be surrounded by people I love, challenged by things I enjoy, driven by my passions and pursuits, comfortable enough in myself to be honest always, comfortable enough to get uncomfortable, to afford the ability to always be rich in literature, music, coffee... fashion. Girl, for just a moment, I know. More specifically, do I have an answer? No. I want to do what I want until it makes me happy, and when it doesn't make me happy anymore, I'll do something else. But to explain that to anyone is so... difficult. Difficult without sounding completely without drive or passion, without sounding like a complete and utter hippie, as I have been accused repeatedly of over the last five or six years. As if my ideals of recycling and being a vegetarian and conserving the planet's resources are so utterly absurd. But I digress. (As I seem to do at least once a post...)

Where do you want to go? Who do you want to be? Let's be honest, life is different in CT and KS. But not for the reasons so many assume. In fact, quite the opposite. In a lot of ways, they're very much the same. The differences come simply from, if I were to live in a place where my future is set into becoming a Midwestern housewife, surrounded by friends and family who I've known my entire life (where we can go out to dinner as a group with a person who has the misfortune of not being raised with us their entire lives and we can cross-examine them with a self-assured thorough knowledge of each other). I could do what I want to do, be who I want to be, but am most likely going to be with someone I've known my whole life, doing things in places I've always gone to (don't get me wrong, I love these people and these places). Or I have the option of CT (or anywhere else really, but as it is where I am at the moment...), where I will always be a little more outside, where I will have to work harder to prove myself, to fit in, to be worthy of these pre-formed since-birth groups that we all have in our hometowns. I have option of not knowing who I could someday marry since he was knobby-kneed with a mouth full of braces, of living in or exploring places where I don't know all the roads; a place where I have to get a new state license, learn a new dialect (whether it be speaking or merely struggling to hear it properly), find new favorite restaurants... hey, it could even be a blue state. Or a non-colored state at all.

Have you learned anything here? I answered no. Such a reflex. But not entirely true. If not about the profession, I have learned a lot about myself in the past two years. I've learned the pain and anguish of moving 1300 miles away. I've learned how much you can miss everyone you've ever known, every place you've ever been, every memory you've ever had. I've learned that I'm stronger than I thought. I've learned how much missing people can age you. I've learned to live without a relationship, without a crutch, by myself. I've learned what good company I can be to me. I've learned to be a friend to myself. I've learned the art of being selfish and doing things for me. I've learned the difficulty of maintaining friendships with hundreds of miles between you, but the importance of the people who are willing to try. I've learned to become an expert frequent flyer. I've learned to navigate myself through places I've never been. I've learned that I never want to become a person who stops learning. I want to learn all my days through. I've learned the importance of a good night's sleep... every night. I've learned that it is so hard to try to teach yourself the guitar. I've learned that sometimes people have to make choices that hurt you in the moment, but that is never their intention and was merely them having to do what's best for them and I've learned to accept those choices they've made- I want what's best for them. I'm working on learning the art of being Zen, the ability to stay calm and cool, to let others get dramatic but not let it affect me. I've learned that I believe in love (well, duh), but have grown more accepting of the love lost, and overcome the need to find love where there is none. I have re-learned, over and over again, that laughter is always the best medicine.

This is a post where I would like to have the answers, but I don't. This is a post, like so many before it, about my upbringing. How I was raised in suburbia, in the Midwest, in a happy, healthy family, and yet, it somehow makes me unique. Different. How my 'normalcy' becomes a paradox, a paradigm, perplexing. A post where I want to have the answers, but somehow I just end up with more questions. What is it going to take for the value of my opinion to be equal to those of others- those around me, my peers, my friends? I'm learning that it's knowing the value of my opinion in my eyes that really matters, and at some point, the people who see it at that same esteemed value are the people worth blogging over.

peace and love, x's and o's.

ghosts

For anyone who knows me, ghosts is an unusual topic choice. But I don't mean ghosts necessarily in the most traditional sense, of, dead spirits appearing in front of you.

But rather, perhaps, the ghosts of past memories. As we are all prone to, sometimes a memory hits you and you are left with some sort of feeling of deja-vu. I think the seasons personally affect for me what memories hit me when, as well as who I've talked to recently, who is on my mind, where geographically I'm located, et cetera. But also, the places we've come to in our lives.

For example, since I was about 15 or 16, I've liked or been dating a boy almost constantly. (To go even further back, I seem to have skipped that whole "boys have cooties" phase entirely... when haven't boys been cute?) While this has not been the case since I've moved to CT, a large percentage has disappeared in my flirtatious personality; it has changed in that my focus has become my job and I worry that it will come off as unprofessional or as a distraction or some other sort that will not be openly accepted or appreciated. However, I've kind of hit a wall... I'm ready to be around boys my own age again, single and straight and attractive, and to laugh and flirt and giggle, all feelings and tendencies and personality traits that I feel I left with my self-confidence somewhere in a box in my parents' basement in KS.

Regardless, so, I'm ready to bring that person more front and center again (as if I've been able to ever control my personality, be it flirtatious or awkward or more often than not, both). So memories of that former person have been floating through my head and one particular memory absolutely knocked me flat the other night. Of course it was of a summer memory, and of course it was of the boy, the one who got away (there's always that one who got away), and of course it was of a time when I believed he loved me truly and deeply... oh, to be the naive fool again...

But I digress. I guess my head is in a place where I eagerly anticipate whatever there is to come, while being aware of what a blissfully unaware little thing I was, and the reality that, in order to jump back in, there is every possibility that I will be repeating history... Alas. Insert some cheesy love quote here, foolish or not, here I stand, ready to jump... or at least get my toes wet...

x's and o's, peace and love.

been a long, been a long, been a long day

Okay, so I've kept up with this pretty well... Har har. Another round... let's see how this goes.

I guess I haven't updated because there hasn't been much to report. I think the latest news to discuss would be the fact that despite the fact that I am two years older than when I received that diploma and moved myself to the coast, I still live by the Kansas philosophies upon which I was born and raised. Those include trusting people instantly and all-encompassingly until they give you a reason not to. This is the opposite of most that I have found on the coast, who only trust you once you have proven yourself. Regardless, I am coming to terms currently with the first serious sucker punch to my trust since I have moved here.

The thing that irks me, and maybe I'm just totally off base, but I have always considered myself to be a good judge of character. Even now, I'm not sure what happened or that I am off base, despite the actions that suggest to the contrary.

In the long run, this is a blip. No big deal. Not anything to be upset over. But at the current moment, it is disappointing and frustrating and I don't want it to affect the way I openly trust people. One situation. Not worth it.

This is a story about not getting bogged down by things not worth bogging. Anything or one who would do this to you is soooo not worth your time. And karma always comes back around...

In The Future, There Will Be More Writing

So, I told my mom a story the other day about something funny that had happened. She laughed and was like 'You should write a book'. ... I don't know that that's true, but I certainly should resume writing on a more regular basis about the things in my life until I can figure out how to blend them into a coherent story... So, if you're interested... pay attention... stories headed your way!