the introvert

big announcement

2008-03-31T21:07:00.002-05:00

Thanks to my talented hubby, my blog has a new home on my new website. So please update your bookmark if you have one, and visit my blog's pretty new digs. Hope to see you there!

retribution

2008-03-26T10:41:00.005-05:00

Lately, I have noticed that I have been getting upset over little things and stewing over them for days. This isn't a typical "me" behavior. I am a pushover fairly laid back and can tolerate an enormous amount of BS. I won't say I don't get annoyed easily, but give me five minutes or distract me with a cookie, and I'm over it.

One of these incidents happened on Easter at a local eating establishment. Now, in our town, everyone goes out to eat. That's just the way it is. No matter how many restaurants we get, there will always be a 30-45 minute wait on any given Sunday at lunch - minimum. We knew Easter would be especially chaotic, so Hubby and I went to the restaurant early to stake out a table and wait for my parents. We may have jumped the gun a bit when we told them that mi familia was "right behind us" so that they would seat an incomplete party. It was 11:45, and they usually don't even leave church until 12:15. Consequently, we sat at our table for quite some time before they showed up. We were seated in one of those areas where restaurants like to crowd in as many free-standing tables as possible. This particular table was wedged in between the wall and two other tables, so no one had an exorbitant amount of elbow room or aisle space.

Along comes a family who is to be seated at the table that was squeezed in between the corner and the wall. Suddenly, I hear "can you move you seat forward?", and before I have a chance, I feel my chair being forcefully moved forward for me and my stomach being shoved into the table. I have to admit I was pretty shocked that someone found it socially acceptable to shove a stranger's chair. The perpetrator was a sulky, hefty girl in her twenties. Hubby seemed pretty surprised too, but he tried to diffuse my irritation by pointing out how all the women at the table looked like angry, unhappy people.

Soon my parents arrived, and we had a nice - albeit cozy - meal. While we were enjoying some after-dinner conversation, angry family got up, and without saying a word, sulky, hefty girl actually LIFTED UP the back of my chair and pushed it forward, squeezing me into the table like an orange into a juicer. Okay...like I said before, I am usually not one to get provoked, but I was ready to throw down. It took all the class I could muster to just sit there and not stand up, grab my chair, and bust it over the back of her head Jerry Springer style. But because I am a classy broad, (or at least try to act like one) I remained glued to my seat.

For the next two days, I could not stop being mad about this. And it made me mad that I let this girl make me mad. Why did I care so much? Why couldn't I just forget about it? I think I've finally figured it out, and it all stems back to my adolescence. No, no - stick with me.

Sulky, hefty girl reminds me of the girls who used to bully me in junior high. Granted, I looked like this...
but who isn't awkward at that age? Because I remember all the times that the ringleader, Cynthia, would be mean to me for no reason (like the time I accidentally sat in "her seat" on the bus, and she came up and said, "you've got five seconds to get up before I start punching") and how angry and helpless I felt, I guess that older me still has an urge to protect young, awkward me.

It's amazing how those humiliating experiences from your formative years can stick with you into adulthood. I am nothing like the insecure kid I was; however, I still have a scary amount of anger built up in me from 15 years ago. It's not like I was the only kid that those girls picked on, but at the time, it sure did feel like it. I guess I'll have to just take solace in the fact that those girls behaved the way they did was because of their own insecurity. It's just one big vicious circle.

never boring

2008-03-24T10:14:00.005-05:00

Y'all would be so proud of me....in an attempt to actually make my life easier, I've scaled back my commitments. I refrained from joining ABWA, I'm almost done with my provisional year in Junior League, I stopped volunteering at the hospital, and...drum roll...I'm down to ONE job now! (bows)

Now here's why: in less than two weeks, hubby and I will be living in two different locations. He will be coming home on the weekends to work on the house doing electrical, plumbing, hanging doors, building furniture, laying flooring...pretty much everything, and during the week, I'll be priming, painting and caulking 'cause that's about all I can do. What can I say? He's freaking Bob Vila.

On Saturday, hubby and my dad built a new wall and rewired the living room while my mom and I did yard work and stripped the wallpaper in the master bath and the kitchen. After a year and a half of living here, it's cool to see so much progress being made on the house.

Hubby and I always knew we work better under a deadline. Paying rent in Dallas and a mortgage here until we finish and sell the house has proven to be quite the motivator. Just another example of how our lives are never boring. But I'm having fun!

rant

2008-03-19T18:31:00.005-05:00

When I was a child, kids always played around the neighborhood without being under the watchful eye of a parent. We had been taught about Stranger Danger and Just Say No. We knew not to help some random guy find his lost puppy or let him touch us in our "bathing suit area".

Now it seems like parents are more cautious than ever. People use cell phones with tracking devices to keep tabs on their children. We have police posing as children to catch online predators. The fear of pedophilia is rampant. Chris Hanson is a household name.

So someone to explain something to me. For the love of God....why do I see these everywhere?

Parents are telling kids over and over not to give out their personal information their MySpace page...and lo and behold, mom is broadcasting it in the parking lot of the HEB.

Meanwhile at the little league field, Sleazy Steve walks up to number 21 and says "Hey, Alex. My name is Steve. I'm a friend of your mom's. She asked me to come pick you up. I have candy."

new chapter

2008-03-17T13:20:00.004-05:00

Well, I guess it's official: I'm entering a new chapter in my life. I am moving to a new town. I know, right?

Those who know me well know that I've lived in this town my whole life and that my family has been here since the dawn of time. But those same people also know that I've been itching to leave since college graduation.

It's not that I don't love this town and the people who are in it. It's...well...it's several things. First, I haven't gotten to experience living anywhere else. Sure there was that summer internship at Texas Monthly in Austin, but that felt more like an extended vacation. It was only two and a half months; I don't think that counts.

Also, my field of study isn't exactly valued here. Neither is hubby's for that matter. Our town isn't what you'd call technologically advanced. It's definitely getting better, but it's not there yet. People still design their brochures with Pagemaker or even--God forbid--Microsoft Word. People still think Dreamweaver is cutting edge. In the meantime, we're working like dogs to make ends meet because of the dismal pay scale. So it's difficult to ignore the fact that we could be living very comfortably in a bigger city doing less work.

Finally, for a long time now, I've felt like I was waiting for my life to start. Sure I had finished college, gotten married, and entered the work force, but because I'd never left, mentally I hadn't "graduated" yet. Maybe this is what I was waiting for. Maybe it isn't. But it's going to be a new experience, and I am excited about that.

mindsticker

2008-03-13T15:23:00.005-05:00

After yesterday's post, The Bloggess mentioned the following Tab ad from the 60s, so I had to check it out. Revel in its awesomeness.

Wow...so all I ever had to do to keep hubby's attention is drink Tab? Dang. To think of all those hours I wasted at the gym. Let that be a lesson to you, Silda Wall Spitzer. None of this would've happened if you'd been drinking your Tab.

the good ol' days

2008-03-12T14:08:00.009-05:00

Sometimes I forget how far women have come in such a short period of time. Then I run across vintage advertisements like these. We have it good, ladies.

My husband would love this one. (P.S. Is that Goldie Hawn?)

Well it's nice to know we're good for something.

Vintage domestic violence is charming!Wow! You mean I don't have to use a hammer anymore?
(P.S. It takes talent to match your lipstick to your ketchup)
Now there's a question... What does that have to do with Palmolive?

Some call it Pep; I call it speed.

temptation

2008-03-11T14:13:00.008-05:00

Neiman Marcus is the devil. I once innocently went to their web site to enter a sweepstakes, and now I get daily messages in my inbox trying to lead me to temptation with words like "Roberto Cavalli" and "25% off". Normally I laugh in defiance and hit delete before I even open the message. Nice try, Neiman Marcus.

But today. Today was different. Today they said the magic words "Last Call Online Clearance" combined with "Extra 20% Off". Holy mother of God. Try as I did to resist, the force was too great and before I knew it, I was clicking my way through Diane von Furstenburg, Elie Tahari, and Robert Rodriguez dresses and Valentino Mary Janes at (gulp) REASONABLE prices. My lip began to quiver. My hand began to tremble as I scrolled through page after page of awesomeness.

This Dress is by Young Fabulous and Broke. See? It was made for me!

*sigh* *swoon* *whimper*

*droooooooool*

My demon-possessed mouse made its way to one of the dresses and clicked on Shop By Size as I screamed "NOOOOO!" in my head. But as luck would have it, they didn't have my size. The issue that usually plagues me at sales saved me from certain divorce. Ha! Maybe next time, Neiman Marcus.

famous

2008-03-11T13:35:00.004-05:00

Yes! I am on two - count 'em - TWO blog rolls now. Thank you to Tootsie Farklepants at Vintage Thirty. I am starting to feel a twinge of validation. And I will continue to maintain my delusion that these genuine bloggers with readers who comment don't simply take pity on me. Admit it...you wish you were me.

texas weather

2008-03-10T16:14:00.003-05:00

So it's snowing on Friday, sunny and warm on Saturday and Sunday, and raining cats and dogs on Monday. You throw Daylight Savings Time in there, and apparently it causes my body to implode. I woke up with a head full of snot this morning. So in order to make it to work, I took three different decongestants. Now I have cottonmouth. Aaahhh Mondays. At least I'm having a good hair day.

In other news....

One of my friends (the 1st degree in my four degrees of separation from Creepy MySpace Guy) informed me that neither her nor the other degrees know this dude. Sooo, the friend CMG claimed to know wrote him a nice little message this morning.

As much as I enjoy hearing about your daily activities, I would appreciate it if you didn’t write 2 paragraphs of info on my page. To be honest...for the longest time, I had no clue who in the hell you were, until you started stalking my friends... that’s were I draw the line. I would appreciate it if you discontinue your weekly reminder to myself and MORE IMPORTANTLY... my friends. Good luck with your school and papers. There is no need to respond to this message…

When I read that, I totally applauded him in my head. Hopefully, that will be the end of it. I'm way too old for MySpace drama. Come to think of it, I'm probably too old to have a MySpace page. Dang.

random crap

2008-03-07T09:39:00.006-06:00

Y'all, it's snowing. That happens like once every ten years here. But as I was leaving for work this morning and realized that I had no idea how cold or wet it was outside, it made me really thankful. If you have such warm, well-insulated shelter that you had no idea it's been snowing, you are one of the lucky ones.

Okay, enough of that....

I think my blog needs pictures because people never really get over the childish need to have minimal words and lots of pictures. Maybe that'll get me Bloggessed again.

Here. Here's a picture I found awhile back of a real professor at Texas A&M. Why didn't I have this guy??? I bet the cat is named something fancy like "Professor Poppycock" and he carries him wherever he goes and says things like "Would the professor like a saucer of milk?" Meaning both himself and the cat, of course.

return of creepy myspace guy

2008-03-06T08:54:00.004-06:00

At the urging of several people, I deleted Creepy MySpace Guy (CMG) from my friends list last night. Since he has 613 friends, I figured he'd never even miss me. But, alas, I have underestimated the creepiness of CMG. This morning, when I logged on, there was a new message and friend request waiting for me! That's right...out of over 600 people, he noticed I was missing. Not only did he ask if he did something wrong, he gave me an itinerary of his weekend in case I wanted to hang out.

THEN I check my friend request. Surely it can't be. But it is. It's him. And attached to it is another message asking what went wrong. My jaw was on the floor. I am completely thrown for a loop. And what's worse is that I actually felt a little guilty for disappointing a complete stranger.

Well done, CMG...well done.

violated

2008-03-04T17:09:00.006-06:00

So last night I was at the coffee shop I always complain about. I suppose I'm a glutton for punishment. I walk in, find the last chair next to the last plug, quickly stake my claim, and then make my way to the counter to order...you know, so I'm legitimately using their free wifi. Because that's how I roll.

Once there, I am fortunate enough to be stuck in line behind Weird Employee Guy. Weird Employee Guy (or WEG) is intently studying the menu as if he's Indiana Jones trying to select the Holy Grail. Apparently the fact that he gets an employee discount means that, in his mind, he can't order anything normal. He is overcome by possibility and must explore EVERY mocha-frappa-latte-shot and what each new combination will cost with the discount. Then he switches gears and begins examining the food selection (which by now is very picked over).

So WEG squats to get a closer look at the spinach feta frittata from 10 hours ago and *BAM* I am violated at the sight of the hairiest, foulest flash of buttcrack I've ever witnessed. It was as if my eyes could smell it. I quickly look away, but what has been seen cannot be unseen. While I'm searching for a coffee stirrer to stick in my eye, he leans next to me to check out the selection of syrups and *POW* horrific B.O. slaps me right in the head. My ears start to ring. I begin stumbling back and forth...stars and planets swirling around my head. And then, from somewhere overhead, I hear the voice from Mortal Combat say "Finish Her". And before I know what hits me, WEG reaches over my head to examine a canister of tea and *ZAP* I get a pit stain right to the face.

And all I wanted was a frozen hot chocolate. I hate that place.

enviro-nazis

2008-03-03T16:00:00.003-06:00

I have to admit I was not ready for this bit of stunning stupidity this afternoon.

Creating a massive fire to protect the environment is like killing to abolish the death penalty. What's worse is that the homebuilders were actually trying to use green building practices. Regular terrorists aren't enough; we need eco-terrorists too! Way to go, ELF!

to creepy myspace guy

2008-03-02T20:27:00.003-06:00

Dear Creepy MySpace Guy,

I appreciate the enthusiasm with which you've pursued a friendship with me. It's admirable that you'd want to be my BFF when you've never even met me, simply because you know the guy who is marrying a friend who I met through another friend. I accepted your friend request because of your seemingly normal "Hi, how's it going? I'm an Aggie too." But that was months ago. And although you initially recognized that I am a stranger...and a married one at that, you have since level-jumped your way to inviting me to tailgate parties, hanging out at The Chicken, and even attending the occasional house party...each time punctuating your messages with YEE HAWs, GIG EMs, and OOH DOGGIEs. You'd think that my utter silence in response to your messages would help you to realize my complete lack of interest in being your drinking buddy, but alas, you're oblivious. So aside from spelling it out for you in this post, how else can I make myself clear? Help me help you.

Sincerely,
Jennifer

the apocalypse

2008-03-01T20:06:00.004-06:00

I've voluntarily shopped on Black Friday at 6:30 am. I've braved the mall the morning of December 26th. I've even volunteered at Food Pantry Thanksgiving Basket distribution. But nothing...nothing....could prepare me for Junior League Bargain Blitz this morning.

My shift was to begin promptly at 8 am, so I peeled myself out of bed at about 7:40, threw on my red JL shirt, and drove to the community center. I should've been prepared when I saw the line of salivating scavengers stretched down the sidewalk, to the street, and halfway through the enormous parking lot - itching for the doors to open. But somehow I didn't fully grasp what was in store. I entered through the loading dock, put on my beautiful red Bargain Blitz smock, and awaited instruction. I was told that I would be a "floater". Gross name, but apparently a coveted job. All I was supposed to do was wander around and pick up items that had fallen on the floor, rehang clothes, clean up spills or broken glass. Fine. Sounds lovely.

So off I went to the middle of the clothing section and waited. Suddenly I heard a JL lady yell, "The doors are open!" It was the tone of her voice that worried me. It was less an informative statement, and more as if she were warning us of the impending apocalypse. Then there was a rumble...the ground began to vibrate...and through the double doors came a tsunami of half-crazed bargain hunters. It was like watching a stampede of spooked cattle. Women in their sixties were running over small children to stake their claim on a crappy "Hoppy Easter" wall hanging in Seasonal that cost 75 cents. A band of old women on Rascals busted through the Housewares like the Hell's Angels, tossing random knick-knacks in their baskets and knocking down everything in their path. Two granola hippies in Crocs were playing tug-of-war with a Tae-Bo video. I dove under the table, curled up into a ball, and began rocking back and forth with my eyes closed trying to find my happy place.

It wasn't long until one of the Blitz committee members found me and asked me to help in check out. Reluctantly, I left my post and bear-crawled my way to the check out area. I was immediately flagged down by the lady holding down the line to check out. And by "line" I mean rabid mob. "Can you hold the line while I go take some pictures?" she asked sweetly. I told her I was not the best choice for crowd control; I was much better at taking pictures. I was serious. She just laughed. *Disclaimer: for those who don't know me, I am 5'4", about 125 lbs., and physically can't raise my voice above a murmur. I am about as intimidating as a girl scout.

So there I was, trying to herd the mob one person at a time to each of the five check out lines in an orderly, non-violent fashion. The check out girls watched in horror as the mob began to crowd me and pull me under, like Jaws. One lumbering boob was apparently standing behind me as I tried to determine who was next and finally craned his ugly mug over my head to make me aware of his presence. I said, "I'm sorry sir, but there are a lot of people here. I can't tell what order you're in if you're behind me." He and his wife complained to one of the overwhelmed committee members that I was rude to them. They seemed to care tremendously. Firing me from Junior League was moved to the top of their priority list right above cleaning up the pool of blood, teeth, and cheap hair extensions in Childrens' Toys. Morons.

Anycrap, about 11:30, I directed the last person to the last cashier. It was over. I survived. The cashiers and I looked at each other and laughed. "It's never been that bad before!" they all said. I'm just lucky I guess. It was then that I realized: that lady ditched me! Taking pictures...whatever. She's officially on my list.

So this is what I learned today: Bargain Blitz will never be my placement, I will never be coerced to do crowd control again, and next year I'm bringing a taser.

-Fin-

this just in...

2008-02-27T16:31:00.003-06:00

Sorry I haven't posted in awhile. As you might've guessed from my last post, I've been a little busy.

But I'm feeling all special today because one of my favorite bloggers, who has a real live blog that people read, pretended to like me enough to not only comment on my sad little blog (something that even my friends who read this thing barely do) but add me as a stalker - I mean friend - on Facebook.

See Jenny? You got Kawasakied; I got Bloggessed. It's the circle of life. Thanks for making me feel validated.

addict

2008-02-13T13:00:00.003-06:00

Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Jennifer and I'm an overcommiter...

I never meant for this problem to get so out of hand. I started off just getting Second Job to help pay the bills. I mean, after all, they came to me. I wasn't looking for another job. Then I was asked to join Junior League. Seems harmless enough. I mean, it's not like there's something going on every night.

Then my former employer begged me to become an ambassador for the Chamber of Commerce because, well, I know everything there is to know about the Chamber. Not to mention, so many of my friends are still involved. Boss 1 and 2 think it's a great program and they're paying for it...why not!

Then a friend in Junior League asked me to write a couple of articles for a local magazine. Well, okay, maybe just a couple. It's not like I'll do this every month. And she did ask really nicely. Oh and you want me to take over planning our 10 year high school reunion? Well, I am one of the few who still live here... and I do have a lot of helpful contacts here. Sounds fun!

I knew I had hit rock bottom today when I found myself seriously considering using vacation days from First Job to meet my deadlines for Second and Third Job. I closed the door to my office, curled up in the fetal position, and cried like a little girl.

sore back

2008-02-11T13:19:00.000-06:00

It seems like I am perpetually loaded down like a pack mule - no matter where I go.

Most people at my office are walking in the door empty-handed. I walk in balancing a purse, a camera case, a notebook, a McDonald's bag, a drink and an extra set of keys...all the while gingerly wobbling on heels in the 45-degree-angled parking lot.

When I come home and walk in the door, I'm usually carrying the purse, the keys, the notebook, maybe some groceries, sometimes dinner for two in a sack, a couple of drinks...and I'm still in heels.

Even at the gym, where you're supposed to be empty-handed, I walk in with my phone, both sets of keys, my IPod, and my hoodie.

Maybe I need to consolidate...or maybe this is just a sign that I am a little too much of a multitasker.

gym-nast-ic

2008-02-05T15:51:00.000-06:00

As I mentioned in a previous blog post, gyms sick me out. It isn't as if I'm a complete germaphobe, but think about it: hundreds of sweaty people sitting on the same equipment with their sweaty butts day after day.

And how 'bout those yoga mats....*shudder*? You don't even have to use your imagination on that one. I once went to an Extreme Abs class right after a yoga class. Without a care in the world, I picked up a mat, set it down, laid in the crunch position, and heard a squish. The mat was actually still wet. UGHHH! Needless to say, I tossed the mat and used the hardwood floor.

My gym has started offering disinfectant to wipe down equipment with, and I've taken advantage. And what I witnessed yesterday was just a reminder why. While I was stretching, I noticed a woman wandering around who was obviously new to the gym. First of all, she was wearing Crocs, which should never be worn at all - much less as athletic footwear. Second, she was examining each piece of the circuit training equipment as if it were an exhibit in an art museum. She finally found a machine that didn't completely befuddle her, so she decided to give it a whirl. So what was the first thing she did? SHE KICKED OFF HER SHOES! That's right. She was using the equipment barefooted. I threw up a little in my mouth.

Hey, I'm not the only one who thinks gyms are gross...Newsweek just did a story on it.

comatose

2008-01-30T09:22:00.000-06:00

I don't want to jinx it, but I think I might've remedied whatever ailment what coming on yesterday. After work, I didn't go to the gym as usual because, if you're trying to avoid germs, the gym is the last place you need to be. In fact, the gym totally sicks me out - but that's another post.

Instead, I did laundry and tried to catch up on reading. In theory, this book should be enthralling. It's about the Galveston hurricane of 1900, which fascinates me. However, Erik Larson has a knack for getting off task. His English teacher never told him to "write tight". So just about the time he started rambling on about Christopher Columbus (I KID YOU NOT!), I was out like a light.

I slept for about two and a half hours until my cell phone rang. It was hubby wondering why I was Idle on Google Talk (he wanted my opinion on web design). I was so utterly confused that I started mumbling something about "everything is everywhere". I remember being quite offended that hubby had no clue what I was talking about, and he was asking me to clarify my lethargic gibberish. After all, I knew what I meant.

I finally woke up long enough to finish my laundry and learn about Michael Jackson's troubled childhood on E! and then I was off to bed. I think the 10 hours of sleep really helped. I'm no longer congested, and I only hit snooze 3 times this morning.

eww

2008-01-29T14:45:00.001-06:00

I can feel it coming on...and there's nothing I can do about it. Boss 1 is out sick, two brokers are out sick, my remaining co-workers are projecting a refrain of coughs and throat-clearing all over the office. I hear phlegm everywhere I go. It sounds like a flock of geese have taken over the company. I just want to shut my door and aim a can of Lysol at anyone who dares to enter. I've been sneezing the last two days, which I've blamed on allergies. Now I think it could be something more. Either way, I keep slathering myself with Purell.

update

2008-01-25T14:23:00.000-06:00

I apologize that I haven't written anything new in so long. I have been genuinely scatterbrained since the start of the new year. Fortunately, despite my harried and forgetful demeanor, life is still going better than it has in a long time. This year has already been exponentially better than last.

However, I still have been in a blah mood, even though I don't have very many reasons to be blah. I have to blame it on the weather. This constant cold, drizzly mess we've been wandering around in for the past two weeks is making everyone crabby. I haven't even wanted to drag myself to the gym - something I usually look forward to at the end of the day. I just want to spend the day curled up on the couch under two blankets watching movies.

grrrr

2008-01-05T17:01:00.000-06:00

Maybe I should give up on the coffee shop thing because, for some reason, today I'm attracting toddlers. When I got here about 45 minutes ago, there was hardly a soul in here. Now, I am surrounded by three families with four active toddlers. And I didn't even pray for patience today.

Maybe some people can write an article to the sounds of screeching, but I am not one of them. Maybe I should've borrowed hubby's noise-cancelling headphones. I realize that I have a quiet house to work in, but is it so wrong to want to leave the house?

Ah the fun continues. Now Chubby Girl Reading Tabloids on the Couch is having a phone conversation with her ex-boyfriend about his web of lies. And two giggly college girls are busy critiquing brides in wedding magazines and chatting about the latest episode of "Girls Next Door". Now one girls' cell phone is going off. It's her mother calling to discuss things she accidently left at home during Christmas break. No I didn't even see the James Avery box, mom! Suddenly the toddlers don't seem quite so annoying.

happy new year

2008-01-02T09:25:00.000-06:00

So we've officially started another new year. The years seem to go by a lot faster than they used to. I guess for a long time I was always in such a hurry for the next big thing, that I couldn't wait for another year to pass.

The whole time I was in grade school, I just couldn't wait to be one grade older. The next grade held more privileges, more prestige, more freedom. In college, one more year meant I was one year closer to being done with school and moving on with my life. Had I known what the real world is actually like, I might've savored my college experience a little more.

Now that I am in the real world, a new year really just means that there is an opportunity for change. When I was younger, everything was pretty much mapped out for me. There was little question about where I would be in a year. I'd be one grade higher doing the same extra-curricular activities with the same friends I'd had since elementary school. But now when I look back at the last five years, I see how drastically things seem to change from year to year, and the possibilities seem endless. That can be something to look forward to, but really it's pretty scary too.

So only God knows what 2008 will bring. By the end of the year, I could have another job or even own my own business. I could be in new organizations surrounded by new friends. I could be in another house in another town. Believe me - I tried the whole mapping out my future thing, and what I learned is that God is the one in control - not me. So I guess I'll just go along for the ride.

random update

2007-12-28T09:05:00.000-06:00

Well, it took two and a half months, but I finally finished the first draft of my screenplay...and my film director friend didn't hate it. Yay!! I am trying to fight the urge to read it again because I change something every time I read it. I want to hear his official feedback before I go rewriting the thing.

In other news, I decided to get sick two days before we leave town to go to the Alamo Bowl. So I'm all doped up on cold medicine. Plus my arm is still sore from giving blood a week ago. Apparently the phlebotomist had depth perception issues and went straight through my vein, so I have a bruise on my elbow the size of Kentucky. It feels like I spent the day doing curls with my left arm. Can you tell I'm whiny today? Yes, poor me. My life is terrible.

Anywho, I think it's going to be a good weekend despite my ailments. I get to leave work early today to go to San Antonio with fun people and stay in a cool hotel and watch the Aggies win a bowl game. Hey, there's a first time for everything.

idiosyncrasies

2007-12-17T09:35:00.000-06:00

For some reason, I get really bothered by idiosyncrasies. I realize that I'm more perceptive than some; that comes in handy when you're a writer. But I think I tend to take it to another level.

While working on my laptop at a coffee shop this weekend, I was sitting next to an older guy who was about to drive me out of my mind. While most people might be able to tune him out, I was aware of how heavy he was breathing, how he made a random humming sound once every 15 seconds, and how every time he took a sip of his coffee, he said "Ahhhh!" as if it was the most refreshing sip of coffee he had ever experienced. When he finally packed up and left, I got some peace of mind...that is until a gum-popping girl started chatting with the guy behind the counter and, like, used the word like, like, every other, like, word.

This hyper-sensitivity isn't limited to coffee shops. I am annoyed at work on a regular basis. There's one coworker who clears his throat every 30 seconds, one whose ring tone is the same as mine, three who laugh like hyenas, and four whose phone voice is so loud that they might as well come sit in my office while they have the conversation.

Geez I haven't even touched word pronunciation and obnoxious phrases yet. I'll spare you that, but just know to never use the phrase "let me pick your brain" in my presence.

Yes, I realize I have a problem.

aging

2007-12-14T16:43:00.000-06:00

I'm confused. I know I'm not fat - in fact I just lost 10 pounds. I'm not old - even though it feels that way when you live in a college town. Plus I wear sunscreen every day. So why do I suddenly have loose skin hanging under my chin? When did that appear and why? Now I'm absently messing with it while I stare at my computer screen all day - as if that's going to help. I'm probably stretching it out more. Am I doomed to have a skinny neck and a shar pei chin?

My mom has been doing these facial exercises she learned from Jack LaLanne about 40 years ago, and she's done them ever since. Clearly they work because she looks 10 to 15 years younger than she is. But because you apparently look like a moron when you do them, she never will teach them to me! I'm about to have to find some old school Jack LaLanne videos on YouTube or something.

'tis the season

2007-12-11T16:00:00.000-06:00

Can someone tell me when Christmas started being a month long? Don't get me wrong - Christmas is my favorite time of year, but I don't remember it always being so stressful. I guess as you get older, you allow yourself to get caught up in the trivial obligations of Christmas.

First, there's the Christmas card debacle. The first step is actually remembering to send them out. (This may sound like a no-brainer, but last year I didn't remember until the 22nd.) Then you have to pore over your Christmas card list to make sure you don't leave anyone out. Finally, you'll inevitably receive a Christmas card from someone you either forgot or didn't think you were good enough friends with to send one to in the first place, so you have to scramble to send one back to them so that they won't realize you forgot them.

Then, there are the parties. I don't want to sound ungrateful for being invited to so many, but with each Christmas party invite comes another compulsion to cook or bake something. And with so many of those parties starting around 6:30 or 7:00, and me not getting off work until 5:30, bringing something that didn't come from Kroger's bakery gets to be more and more difficult. That's when bringing a bottle of wine comes in handy. Everyone likes the person who brings a good bottle of wine.

Finally, there are the gifts. When the people on your gift list are as generous as the people on mine -- and as hard to shop for -- trying to keep up is a challenge. I have always been good at saying exactly what I want; however the people on my gift list prefer to use the "I don't want anything" line on me. So I have to rack my brain to come up with good gifts they will enjoy. I don't always succeed. I can't tell you how many times mom has received toiletries, dad has received books, and hubby has received clothes he never wears.

It usually isn't until Christmas Eve that I sit down and reflect on what this holiday is actually about. So maybe it's a good thing Christmas lasts a month long after all. I get all of the trivial crap out of the way early so I can think about what's important.

magazines

2007-12-01T22:18:00.000-06:00

Sometimes when I need an escape, I sit in Barnes & Noble or Hastings and just read magazines. It takes me places.

I am looking at pictures of my dream home in Architectural Digest or Domino, planning my wardrobe in InStyle, or envisioning my perfect dinner party in Vogue or Southern Living. In my mind, I'm wearing Badgley Mischka in my tastefully-decorated mid-century modern home playing the perfect hostess to all of my friends at a fabulous party with exquisite decorations and amazing food that I made myself.

Sure it's highly unrealistic, but it's fun to daydream. I mean really - that Chanel cuff would look so good on me.

writing

2007-11-30T16:38:00.000-06:00

"Writing is easy. All you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until the drops of blood form on your forehead."
~ Gene Fowler

Truer words were never spoken. I am still working on that gosh darn screenplay. I have the story up in my head, but it won't come out the right way. I have written and erased about three drafts at this point.

I think I finally have an idea of the best way to go about this, but I still haven't attempted it yet. I have put an enormous amount of pressure on myself with this story because A) this is my dream and I don't want to blow it and B) this story is dedicated to my grandmothers and the horrible disease that is Alzheimer's. I want to make sure I am accurate and show what this disease does to people in a very real way.

I think I'm on the verge, but in the meantime, there are drops of blood all over my forehead.

memories

2007-11-18T20:33:00.000-06:00

Today seemed like an ordinary day until I saw the date on my cell phone. Every time I see that date, it sticks out at me like a sore thumb. Eight years ago today, everything changed for anyone who is an Aggie. Bonfire collapsed.

I still remember that day vividly. I had just turned twenty. I was a sophomore majoring in my new boyfriend who is now hubby. He was on hiatus from the Corps of Cadets because he had to work full time that semester. He had still planned to help build Bonfire, but couldn't find his pot that night. That turned out to be a blessing because, had he been out there, who knows what could've happened. One of his fish died that night, and another was seriously injured.

I still remember the phone ringing at about 6:30 that morning. My dad sounded so relieved to hear my cranky voice. When he told me that Bonfire collapsed, my initial reaction was "So? That has happened before. They still have time to build it back before it burns. Why are you calling me so dang early?"

It wasn't until I got up and turned on the TV that I realized the weight of the situation. People were actually dying under that stack as the cameras were rolling. The phone calls kept coming all morning. Hubby's mom called, best friend called, everyone wanted to know if we were alive. I had a test in psychology that morning, and I was trying to study. I had the news on and they were reporting updated lists of the injured and dead. As you might imagine, I wasn't concentrating very well.

I still made it to my class that morning only to find that the test had been mercifully postponed, so I went to the MSC to see what else I could find out. Media were everywhere sticking cameras and microphones in students' faces. Everyone was walking around in a daze. Campus was silent. In the flag room, a woman would periodically announce the updated list of dead and injured. It was very surreal.

Flyers were being posted advertising that Breakaway Ministries was planning a prayer meeting next to Rudder Fountain that afternoon. When hubby and I arrived, there was a sea of students waiting to pray. When Greg Matte began the meeting, the crowd hardly moved. The only noise was coming from the helicopters filming us overhead. He thanked everyone for coming. He tried giving some words of comfort to his grieving audience, but what can you say really? Just before we broke into groups to pray, he announced that he had just received word that three more students had died bringing the total to six. It was unthinkable. Six people!

That night, there was a service held at Reed Arena. The bodies were so packed in there that people were sitting in the aisles. The student body president of UT came and told us how his campus felt for us. Then, before the service was over, the crowd spotaneously began to put their arms around each other and sing "Spirit of Aggieland".

At the close of that bewildering day, just before I turned the news off, the total number of students who died had turned into ten. I felt so angry and helpless. Students just kept dying as the EMTs and volunteers were trying to move those massive logs and there was nothing that could be done.

Before it was all said and done, the total of students who died was twelve. A cruel irony considering the significance of that number to our school's history. Current students probably never attended an original Aggie Bonfire. The seniors would've only been 14 when it collapsed. They may still try to conduct their own off campus Bonfire, but the feelings of cameraderie, pride and tradition can't be duplicated - especially when they are charging admission.

It's the end of an era. And I think the things I saw and the feelings I felt that day will continue to haunt me for years to come.

mexico

2007-11-06T13:17:00.000-06:00

I probably shouldn't be writing a post today because I'm in a foul mood and shouldn't subject anyone else to it, but here goes.

Does anyone else ever feel like just getting in their car and driving away from their life for awhile? When things start to get ugly, my friend and I often joke about running away to Mexico together and having a Corona commercial moment where we ceremoniously throw our cell phones into the ocean. I'm in that kind of mood. In fact, if I had enough in the bank, I might be laying on the beach right now sans cell phone. But I know all of my problems would still be waiting for me when that plane touched back down.

Usually I am able to cope with my frustrations through prayer and hearing what God has to say. But lately I haven't been able to hear Him. The worse things get, the more I pray, and I'm still just as clueless as ever. Maybe I think that by getting away from all distractions, I could finally hear what He's saying to me.

28

2007-10-31T10:49:00.000-05:00

So today I turn 28. It's an interesting age. It's not much different than 27, but it seems much closer to 30. A friend of mine, who recently turned 28, called me this morning to wish me a happy birthday. He asked if I was happy about turning 28. Happy? That wasn't really the word I would use.

He pointed out that the one good thing about it was, as a professional, you're one year further from being considered the "kid" in the office. That I can agree with. I actually work with people younger than me now. Even Boss 1 is younger than me (even though he's deep in denial about it). It's hard to get people to take you seriously to begin with when you're a young woman. You have to work extra hard to prove your talent and earn respect. Being older helps the situation.

Other than that, I suppose another year of life experience is good. I've learned a lot in the past year, but there have been very tough lessons to learn. 27 kicked my butt, and I hope 28 is nicer to me.

reunion

2007-10-26T09:55:00.000-05:00

Back in third grade, there was a girl I did everything with. After school, I'd go to her house and watch Punky Brewster and Beverly Hills Teens (yes, it's a real cartoon; look it up on YouTube). In fact, she may have been my first female best friend. She moved back to Mexico after that year, and we lost touch.

I never forgot about her, and I thought about her often. Then one day in college, I got an email asking if I went to X Elementary School in Y class. It was Melissa! She tracked me down! We did a lot of catching up and emailed back and forth a lot. We'd even talked about me coming to visit her in Mexico. Well, when I moved to another apartment that summer, I changed email addresses and forgot to take my address book with me. I lost her address!

Fast forward six years to this week. I had still thought about her over the years, and searched for her on MySpace and Facebook with no luck. I mean, for all I knew, she had gotten married and changed her name. Then I realized I hadn't done the simplest thing of all - I never Googled her! So that's just what I did. I came up with the lead singer of a rock band in Mexico. At first, I thought, "Nah, that couldn't be her. It's probably a stage name anyway." But the pictures looked like her, the town was the same town she had lived in six years ago, and when I saw her wearing an A&M hat, I knew it had to be her!

So I sent her a message asking what elementary school she went to. And I got back "HEEEEYYYY JENNIFER! I..M SO HAPPY TO READ YOU AGAIN, I..D SEARCHED ALL OVER THE INTERNET AND ALL I HAVE IS YOUR WEDDING PIC!!!!" Yay!!! I found her again and my former BFF is a rock star in Mexico! How cool is that??

little miss sunshine

2007-10-24T13:22:00.001-05:00

So I was trying to fit in a quick phone interview for an article I'm writing for Second Job yesterday. I had been trying to get in touch with this company out of Houston that has been in charge of the redevelopment of a local strip center. After having my emails and phone calls ignored from the lady who calls herself the Leasing Representative, I decided to call the main Houston number and see what happened. What happened was that I was transferred to a lady apparently in charge corporate communications out of the New York City office. For the purposes of this blog, I will refer to her as Little Miss Sunshine. After playing phone tag a couple of times, here is the conversation that ensued:

Me: Hi. I was returning your call...

LMS: Yeah. Uh huh.

Me: I am writing a story about one of your properties, and I just wanted to ask you a few quick questions. Do you have time or should I email you?

LMS: No just do it now.

Me: How did your company get involved in the redevelopment of the center...

LMS: It's our center.

(Knowing that's not entirely true, I seek clarification.)

Me: So you're working together with--

(LMS interrupts)

LMS: No! It's OUR center!

Me: Oookay... What kind of improvements have been made during the redevelopment?

LMS: Kohl's is opening October 1st and Spec's is opening September 29th. (note: not only was my question about the architectural changes, not the stores, she's speaking about the past is if it were the future)

Me: So do you have anything else planned in the near future?

LMS: You already asked me that!!! We want to change our tenant mix.

(I wonder if she has a phone up to each ear and is actually having two different conversations simultaneously)

Me: Alrighty. What type of tenants are you looking to attract?

LMS: Just the ones who will fill up available space. You already asked me that!

(I swallow hard to keep from saying something nasty.)

Me: Do you have access to a site plan or rendering you can send to us?

LMS: It's on the website.

(note: On the website, there is a large banner that says SITE PLAN COMING SOON)

Me: Well thanks so much for your time.

LMS: *click*

You'd think a person in the corporate communications field would be required to have - I don't know - communication skills. After all, I am giving them free advertising in a newspaper that is distributed to the homes of all of their potential customers for that center. And, not to be nasty, but that shopping center has needed customers since the early 90s. I think I may have call the company back and point that out to Little Miss Sunshine's boss.

nerds

2007-10-19T12:45:00.001-05:00

I have always been a huge nerd. Maybe I'm disillusioned, but I like to think I hide it fairly well.

In first and second grade, the kid I hung out with the most at lunch and recess was the smartest kid in class who enjoyed politics and shared my fascination for long, obscure vocabulary words. To this day, I think pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis (which he taught me) is still the longest word I know. Last I heard, he went to Stanford.

It wasn't long before I realized that there weren't too many kids who could relate to someone who read the dictionary for fun. So, from middle school until high school, I decided to feign interest in boys, pop music, and the cast of 90210. When there was drama because one girl wore the same Girbaud shirt as another girl, I acted just as appalled as everyone else. With most of the guys I dated, I felt the need to dumb down because I got tired of bruising their egos with my big words.

Then I met this guy who, at first, appeared to be one of those guys I used to hate in high school: an arrogant jock. Then, slowly but surely, I found out he was a nerd in hiding as well. He wrote his first computer program at age five. He won a web design award in high school. He was even a mathlete! I gotta say - it kinda turned me on! As much as he would hate me for outing him even to this day (although I don't think it's a secret that he's brilliant), I think that, as opposite as we are, that is one thing that keeps us connected. We can revel in our nerdiness together.

mental block

2007-10-17T09:14:00.000-05:00

Guess what. STILL can't figure out the last four 8 counts to "Fever"...and I'm teaching it for the first time tomorrow. Yay. Fortunately, I'm only teaching it to someone who is going to help me teach it to everyone else, so if I screw up, it's not in front of everyone. After all, I'm not done choreographing, so I don't have the dance memorized yet. Eek!

Meanwhile, I'm working on three articles at the same time. One is almost ready to go...I've done the interview and taken notes...I just have to write it. I haven't done interviews for the other two yet. It's not for lack of trying; it's for lack of getting people to call me back....as usual. The deadline for all three is two weeks from today, which is my birthday, and I'll be danged if I'm writing articles on my birthday!

In all of the chaos, guess what got put on the backburner once again - my screenplay. It may not be this week, but I am going to get that thing done if it kills me, which it might.

In other news, husband comes home today. It's been a little more than a week, so hopefully he's missed me a little.

dance

2007-10-15T17:21:00.001-05:00

So I've been trying to finish choreographing a dance to "Fever" by Peggy Lee for Jr. League Ball Follies.

The costume is sexy and the song is sexy, so I've had to make sure the dance is sexy too - without being too Britney-esque or too difficult. I'm going for more sassy and less Pussycat Doll (i.e. Marilyn Monroe in "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes"). But, to tell you the truth, this has been a really tough one to choreograph. I haven't had this many mental blocks in quite awhile. Guess I'm just not feeling sassy. Hard to believe, right?

Anywho, I am supposed to teach this dance starting this week. I've got a wide range of dancers in my group - from former dance instructors to people who only dance in their underwear when they're alone - so it's a little nerve-wracking. It would almost be easier if I could make this a hard dance - axle turns and all. Wouldn't that be interesting in heels?

pipe dream

2007-10-11T12:54:00.000-05:00

Since I was about 12, I've had this dream that one of my novels or short stories would be made into a movie. My story would be loved by millions, Oprah would induct the book into her sacred book club, I'd make the talk show circuit, Conan O'Brien and I would become BFF. But, as I became immersed in the real world, that dream seemed to be slipping further and further away. In fact, I hadn't even thought about it in awhile.

Then, out of nowhere, a friend of mine from high school wrote me a message on Facebook saying that, up until a few seconds ago, he never knew I wrote narrative. Turns out my film director friend is looking for a screenplay that will get him into Cannes. Reeeaaallly? So he asked to read some of my short stories. Unfortunately, those were lost in the great computer crash of 2003. So I told him about the one that still sticks out in my mind the most. Just so happens that story is just the kind he's looking for.

Sooo...looks like I'll be writing my first screenplay this weekend. I sure hope this goes somewhere.

freebies

2007-10-08T20:47:00.000-05:00

Just got home from the launch party of the publication I write for for Second Job. I learned a long time ago that, if you stay until the end of a party, people try to send you home with leftover food and drinks because they don't want to deal with it. I've got lunch and dinner for the next two days! They even made me take a centerpiece with me. Now, in the altered state of my half-remodeled home, displaying a flower arrangement seems a bit like putting lipstick on a pig, but at least it adds a little color.

distance

2007-10-08T20:39:00.000-05:00

Hubby is leaving tomorrow for ten days. I guess it was a good thing that we had a long distance relationship for so long when we were dating because ten days doesn't seem so bad. After all, he used to live seven states away. But still, I miss him when he's gone. Even though I don't really see a whole lot of him when he's here, it still feels like something's really missing when he's away. The good thing is that I tend to be more productive and organized than usual when he's gone. Don't be surprised if my pantry is alphabetized by the time he gets back.

frustration

2007-10-05T10:36:00.000-05:00

For some reason, I have been particularly whiny this week. For all my talk about handing things over to God, I should probably hand things over to God. I have a lot of frustrations going at once.

I took on Second Job so I could afford to keep First Job, but Second Job has yet to send me a check after the four articles I wrote. Meanwhile, First Job has entrusted me to come up with a stellar marketing package within 48 hours to help us close an enormously important deal (in addition to the other 10 projects I was juggling). While I should be jumping for joy at this opportunity (and deep down I am), I can't help but feel like I'm drinking from a fire hose.

Apparently, I'm not hiding it well. Boss 2 came in to ask me if I was unhappy. Both he and Boss 1 seem to worry that I'm going to leave at the drop of a hat. I assured him I like my job; I'm just overwhelmed. It made me realize I need to keep my emotions in check. I tend to think that by not talking about it, I'm doing that, but I just walk around looking angry - even if I'm just focused. I need to pray for some joy!

freedom

2007-09-30T19:10:00.000-05:00

Just got back from the conference last night. The theme this weekend was "Amazing Freedom", which was a theme that really spoke to me.

I feel so bound up by my life and my circumstances sometimes. It's like my hands are always tied. I'm constantly trying to change things in my life so that I don't have to rely on other people, and I can regain some sense of control. I think that's because I crave freedom so badly. I never quite thought of it in those terms, but that's what it boils down to.

But I learned this weekend that freedom does not come from the things around you; it comes from within. It comes from God. So even though my situation may not change the way I want it to, God gives me the freedom to let it all go and have peace. When people disappoint me or anger me or let me down, I can choose to be upset and throw a myself pity party, or I can hand it over and let Him deal with it.

Not letting the world control you...that is freedom.

r&r

2007-09-28T10:06:00.001-05:00

I'm leaving town with mom and friend this afternoon for the Women of Faith Conference. Friend and I are in desperate need of a girl's weekend. We've been looking forward to this trip for months! Not only are we ready for some spiritual therapy, we are ready for some retail therapy too! Look out Highland Village!

gratitude

2007-09-27T09:26:00.000-05:00

Last night at book club, we got on the subject of journals and writing down what you're thankful for. As much as I whine about my life, I thought that was a really good idea. After all, as nutty as it is, I have a pretty dang good life.

I complain about my squeaky, gas-guzzling SUV all the time. But it has never broken down (although the service engine light came on this morning, so that may change), it's only four years old, and it gets me where I'm going.

Although my house has been in half-remodeled limbo for a year (and I stood in Target staring at the Halloween decorations feeling sorry for myself the other night because I couldn't decorate for Halloween), at least I have a house! It doesn't even leak or have cracks in the foundation. And it's in a beautiful neighborhood. And even though our neighbors are snotty because they think we're renters, they're not trying to rob us or anything.

And what about my two jobs? I'm always complaining about how stressed I am because I have two jobs. But guess what - I have two jobs! And, in both cases, they sought me out because of my reputation and expertise. They wanted me and have bent over backwards to accommodate me. For the first several years out of college, I had to beg people to hire me. I need to remember that.

And then there's hubby. I'm crazy about hubby. And even if I don't always show it, I am thankful for him. Even though it's been a tough year and I don't see him much, he is working hard for the both of us. And guess what - on the list of things I wanted in a husband, ambition was one of them. So how can I complain about how ambitious he is? Would I rather have a husband that sits on the couch in his underwear eating cheese doodles and watching "Cops"? No. Plus, because of what I do in BOTH of my two jobs, I get to help him promote his business. So we help each other out.

So there you go. Just a few of the many things I have to be thankful for. Now maybe I should print this out and tape it to all the surfaces in my home, office, and car :)

the simple things

2007-09-26T15:33:00.000-05:00

When your life is as busy as mine, you start to appreciate little things you used to take for granted.

For instance, last night I actually got to eat dinner with my husband...alone...facing each other...in a restaurant. Then, I got to go to the grocery store! No wait; it gets better! I even got to go to the gym! And then...wait for it....paint my nails!! I almost had to pinch myself.

Hubby left this afternoon for a four day trip to go to some more nerd conferences. He always comes back recharged and in a good mood, so I guess I am okay with it :)

talk to me!!

2007-09-25T10:08:00.000-05:00

You would think as someone gains experience, they would become better at something, right? Apparently not so! I have been writing articles and doing interviews for said articles for about six years now. And until I took on this freelance writing gig, I have never once had issues getting people to agree to an interview.

It would be one thing if they would just tell me they were busy from the get-go so that I could find someone else and be done with it. But no, they have to say something along the lines of "Well, I'm pretty busy this week, but let's meet at X time." Then they postpone or don't call back or tell you to email the questions and then never email you back. Do they do this to the other publications in town? I don't want to take this personally, but man! I am just trying to give them some free publicity, and you'd think I was scheduling them for a root canal!

Now don't get me wrong, some people have been great. They jump at the chance to be heard, and they give me as much information as possible. They've even been accommodating to my weird schedule (I can only do interviews around my lunch break and after 5:30 because of my regular job). But without the people who keep giving me the runaround, I can't FINISH the article and, therefore, I can't get PAID which is the whole reason I'm doing this!! Vicious circle.

wrestling

2007-09-24T12:53:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, the sermon was about wrestling with God (Genesis 18). Not wrestling in the physical sense; it's when your prayers basically boil down to one word: "why?" That hit close to home with me.

In the last year, there have been a lot of those one-word prayers for me - more than at any other time in my life. Sometimes you think you've done everything right, and everything still goes wrong. Life just keep lobbing curve balls at you. When that happens, it's easy to just shake your fist at God and say "why?".

But if there's one thing I have learned from feeling that way, it's that when I hand it all over to Him, not only do things start to work out but I get a feeling of peace. I'm not stressing out as much. There aren't clumps of hair clogging my drain. My skin isn't breaking out. Someone can do something that would normally make me come unglued. Instead, I shake it off.

I'd love to be able to say that I do that all the time, but the fact is, it usually takes me having a meltdown before I tell God to take over. You'd think I would have learned by now.

shyness

2007-09-21T12:43:00.000-05:00

Growing up, I was painfully shy. I don't know why. It may just be part of being an introvert. The point is that, although I'm still a little shy, I'm MUCH better than I used to be. I may not be a good conversation starter, but I am a good conversation maintainer. Plus, I've always just enjoyed listening to the conversation. If I have something to contribute, I will. But I won't talk just to talk. I've always liked the Mark Twain quote, "It is better to keep your mouth shut and appear stupid than to open it and remove all doubt."

Where am I going with this?

As I have gotten older, I have noticed that it seems to be socially acceptable to be rude to shy people. People have no qualms about saying things like "You never talk", "You don't say anything" or "Why are you so quiet?" in an accusing tone of voice. When those comments are directed at me, it flusters me and causes me to retreat even further into my shell. It seems counterproductive. Shy people don't like to be the center of attention.

Once I happened upon that idea, it made me start thinking about why people think it's okay to be so snotty. I do have a theory. First, I think people who talk a lot are uncomfortable around shy people because they don't know what they're thinking. Often people who talk incessantly (these are the most common offenders of said faux pas) are insecure, and they want verbal validation. If one person isn't responding as much as everyone else, they react as though you're mentally critiquing them in your head and are preparing to point out their shortcomings on your blog. (Maybe I am! ha ha!)

However, the reason for this behavior may be even simpler than that. Extroverts don't really "get" introverts. I know because I live with one. It boggles his mind when I'd rather spend Saturday night at home in my pajamas watching movies than going out with a group of 40 to a loud bar or club. I'd rather go on a road trip with just him or a close group of four people than a big group of twenty. And he's one of those people who is bothered by my quietness. It's a wonder he stuck around for a second date. Our first date was a blind date and it was essentially me and three strangers: hubby, his best friend, and his best friend's girlfriend. An introvert's nightmare.

Anyway, if you have shy people in your life, please try not to call them out on it. They know they're shy. It's like telling an octogenarian that they're old. It's rude, and it doesn't accomplish anything.

stability...or the lack thereof

2007-09-18T16:26:00.000-05:00

Maybe I grew up spoiled, but I was raised with an incredible sense of stability. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for that. I think that can definitely be a positive thing; kids need stability.

But what happens when, at age 23, you graduate college, get married, get a job, and you're thrown out of the protective incubator to which you've grown accustomed? You're no longer living with people who have steady jobs, all of their finances in order, and always provide you with a fresh supply of Aggie Bucks; you are living with someone who is just as clueless as you are about the whole "grown-up" thing. It often looks like two drowning people frantically pulling each other under water.

God and I have had a lot of conversations (and by conversations I mean me whining a lot) about how, just when I think I have things figured out, the rug gets pulled out from under me. When you're in your twenties, particularly late twenties, you feel this need to find out who you're supposed to be for the rest of your life. There's this understated pressure to have the next 30 years mapped out.

But when a person who thrives on stability marries an entrepreneur, stability junkie is constantly flipping out. Things change daily - no hourly - no secondly (is that a word?). But God likes to take us out of our comfort zones so that we can grow, so I am pretty sure He planned it this way. He sure does have a sense of humor.

me? a blogger?

2007-09-17T13:28:00.000-05:00

I didn't think I was narcissistic enough to be a blogger, but apparently I am (no offense to other bloggers). Actually, I think it has more to do with the fact that there is so much is going on in my life I feel the need to write down my thoughts so I can process everything. That's just my introverted nature I guess. Why I am doing that in front of God and everybody - well - I guess that's my narcissistic side. But hopefully you'll enjoy reading my self-indulgent ramblings anyway.