- You’ve got a friend:: in me
- Immigration:: services
- Waitress:: diner
- Snickers:: bar
- Recognize:: you better
- Concept:: car
- Birthday:: cake
- Told you so:: I
- Unlikely:: event
- Extension:: U of M
I finally found what I’d written on Monday, so it is now posted there. You should be able to find it just below this post (or a few scrolls down).
As a bonus for having ignored this blog for so long, I will now post a picture of myself that is completely ridiculous. Thanks to for sending it to me. I have no idea what the back story on this is.
To: State of Minnesota
To: City of St Paul
To: The check-out guy at Office Max
You know how certain things make you feel… uncomfortable? Like that person on the bus who smells, or the coworker who stands too close, or… fill in the blank.
Well, yesterday and today, I have been having significant… underwear issues. That’s right, I said it. I suggest reading no further.
Yesterday, I wore this cute skirt, and since it was a little clingy, required the use of a thong. I don’t know what was wrong with the one I picked out, but clearly it only was meant to invoke pain. There must be a reason I don’t normally wear that one.
And then today, the choice was boy-cut shorts, because they’re fun, and I was feeling fun. I am not feeling fun right now. They have ridden up. They continue to ride up, despite my attempts to… relieve the situation.
At this point, I’m ready to go commando.
See, I told you you didn’t want to keep reading.
Did you know that, in the recorded history of mankind, over 104 million people have been killed via genocide? That doesn’t include the numerous incidents where the number killed wasn’t counted, such as the Hebrews in Egypt (biblical-era), or Constantine.
To put that in perspective, that’s:
That’s kind of a downer for a Friday, huh? Just doing some research for youth group.
Do you ever wonder if you’re irreparably damaged? That’s the question I was meaning to get to weeks ago when I wrote about John Mayer’s “Daughters.” (BTW, the video for this was quite disappointing to me – the song lends itself so well to a music video in story form, since the song is quite story-esque. Of course, so are most country music songs, and their videos don’t follow the lyrics either, as far as I can tell.)
I got to thinking, I wonder if I’m permanently damaged, at least in relation to men. All throughout high school, I was an unabashed male-basher. Why, I’m not quite sure. It couldn’t have been just that I wasn’t asked out on many dates. But my memory seems unable to pinpoint any incident(s) that would cause me to feel this way, and since I can’t perform hypno-therapy on myself, we’ll just have to leave it in the unknown.
High school and college saw me have lots of good guy friends (OK, well, “lots” is relative to the total number of friends I’d ever have at any one time, which, for me, is smaller than most people). I never did date much, though that didn’t mean my love life was uninteresting (as proven through posts on this site).
And though my parents’ divorce hit hard, both and I pulled through that and learned a lot about love and life, and for the positive.
So why is it that when I’m around guys my own age (or relatively so), whether or not I’m attracted to them, as long as they’re single, I feel like a 12-year-old girl? An awkward, gangly, braces-wearing, bad eighties hair, clumsy, unbrilliant 12-year-old. It’s not a giggly-cute-nervous deal. It’s actually quite… well, awkward sums it up pretty good.
I can’t seem to make eye contact with strangers, unless they’re providing a service like giving me my mocha or ringing up my groceries. I could blame that on my time spent on the reservation, since eye contact was not exactly encouraged there, or on my time spent in San Francisco, when eye contact on the street was avoided so you didn’t accidentally send someone the wrong message.
I have some body-image issues, I’ll admit, but those are entirely related to the media and what American culture has determined is “beautiful” for women these days. Some people, I’m sure, would like to beat me senseless for having body-image issues, but seriously folks, we all have our own demons, right?
What is it that is getting in the way of me but me? If I can’t pinpoint an exact moment, incident, or even an era that has caused me some sort of harm in this area, I can’t actually be damaged, right? In that case, I was just… messed up from the beginning. That doesn’t seem right.
If you know me, could you give me some insight please?
Long hair is now finally seeming a possibility. The week before I moved to Minnesota I made the mistake of over-processing my hair, and consequently it had to be cut off. All of it. For a while, I had about 1/2 inch of hair on my head (some of which was later cut off because it too was damaged, but the girl who cut my hair didn’t want me to be bald, so she left it on originally). Then I moved to Minnesota, December 1, 2001.
Now, a little over three years later, my hair may actually get there. It no longer just brushes the nape of my neck – it now has an undeniable presence, and threatens to get tucked into the necks of shirts soon. I only have a few errant strays when I pull it up. According to , who I don’t think has ever had her hair longer than her ears, my hair is long. My goal? Middle of my back. It’s never been that long. It was shoulder-blade length for a long time. My current youth group kids laugh at pictures of me pre-Minnesota, and think I look funny with long hair. I tell them that’s how I looked for the first 23 years of my life. Not entirely true, but I won’t go into the entire history of my hair here. Not that I couldn’t – it is my blog.
But I’ll let it be for now.
Suffice it to say, I’m happy with my hair length. Now if I could only get the styling products I like in the stores that are easiest to travel to, that’d be great.
So last night I went to Hamline for an information session on their MAT (Master of Arts in Teaching for Initial Licensure) program. After watching the video (trying to sell us on Hamline, which, quite frankly, since they’re the only school I know of that offers a master’s for initial licensure, I didn’t need to be sold), they split us up into groups for what we were interested in. The MAT group (there were others, like for people who already had their license, people looking for a doctorate, people interested in ESL, etc) was by far the largest, though I’m pretty sure most of the people there were looking to start in the fall, which gives me a little bit of a head start. The professor leading the group had us pair up with someone we didn’t know (pretty easy for me, since I didn’t know anyone there) and just learn a little bit about them, why they were considering teaching, why Hamline, whatever.
So this guy next to me turned around and we introduced ourselves. Gotta admit, he was a decent-looking guy, 20-something, and generally not creepy. Found out he had gone to another local school for his undergrad (in Religious Studies, graduated just a few years ago, after me but not too much) and shared why I was there. No big deal. Then we had to introduce each other to the group (would have been nice if we’d been told we were going to do that before the interviewing began, but whatever). Then there was a long dissemination of information about the program. To be honest, I probably didn’t need to have gone to the information session. I would have been fine just applying and then getting my questions answered by my adviser, since none of them really would be answerable until after I was accepted.
Finally the professor stopped talking and started taking questions. A guy from the front row got up to leave, and so then the professor wanted to pass out some handouts before he left (which I saw as a great time to leave myself). Through the handout process, found out that the guy I’d interviewed was interested in teaching the same subject matter as myself.
I’d spent a lot of the Q&A time convincing myself that I could say, it was nice to meet you, to this guy (I have issues, I’ll freely admit). However, when the time came, I felt in a huge rush, and just threw my coat on, grabbed my stuff, and ran out without making eye contact with anyone. While walking out (berating myself for not saying goodbye to cute guy), I figured out that I could have slipped him my number if I had thought about it. Stupid girl, I am sometimes.
So, getting to my epiphany… I am single because, while I meet very few guys my age at all anyways, the ones I do meet I run away from. What the h*** is my problem? I have no problem with pre-existing guy friends, and sometimes even friends-of-friends are OK. Definitely guys who are in serious relationships or married are no problem.
I’m never going to get married, am I? Or at least, not without serious therapy.
If I had to pick a theme for today, it would be, “Missing Buses.” This morning I was a block away from my stop when I saw the bus rumble by. So I waited 20 minutes for the next one. Upon leaving work, I nearly experienced the same thing, but the bus just decided to sit there for a while, so I didn’t miss it after all. Of course, now I’m sitting here listening to someone half-cough once every 3-4 seconds. I’ve ridden with them before and wanted to kill them that time too.
Well, tonight I told that I plan to leave at the end of May to start at Hamline. She was really very supportive. I figured she would be a good person to talk to, because she went through the same career change, though in reverse and in her 40′s. She totally understood, was happy for me, and generally just positive. I wouldn’t have told her this early, but we have a serious budget situation at . Talks include re-staffing at the church and it seemed pertinent to the conversations the budget group was having.
was going to tell , but probably no one else, so it’s still not public knowledge until the end of April. Still, it feels really good to have told, and quite freeing.
I know my life is going to change fairly drastically in the next few years, especially in June. Ending one job won’t free up any time – in fact, I’ll probably be busier, depending on the classes I take. But it’s taken me so long to get to this point, where I really know what the next step is and feel good about it. Grad school is going to be hard work, but the end result will be worth it. There are a lot of details to work out still, especially how all the financing will come about, but I’m really looking forward to the challenge of it all.
A huge thanks to all of my friends who have been so supportive of me throughout this. and have been great. My older friends, though (and by that, I mean the ones I’ve had for a longer time, since at least college), have been a tremendous source of support. I know that I haven’t really talked this through with most of them, but I know that they’re all supportive. and , though, have been the best. They’ve both really held my hand through this whole time. has given me great advice, especially that I should do a job shadow (Friday’s going to be great, and so informational!). And has been great just to talk to and be able to share thoughts and fears and just able to really express myself.
Anyways, a huge thanks to everyone who’s helped me out, and who will continue to be with me and support me as I continue on this journey.