They're familiar, which makes them comforting. Or at least they should be comforting. Or at least we try to convince ourselves that they're comforting, that everything is fine and right. But just because we do something that's always been done doesn't make it worth doing all the time. And because society uses traditions as a security blanket we continue to practice these things we sometimes don't understand. Or we don't enjoy.
I did not go home for Thanksgiving. I'm 25 and this was my first Thanksgiving away from my family. This was not mistake. I had made this decision as soon as the stores started putting out Halloween decorations. Instead, I stayed in bed and watched the Macy's parade, caught up on some tv shows, hunted for fast food and had margaritas with a coworker. Now, for anyone who enjoys the traditions of going home for the holidays, this may seem a little 'sad', at least that's the way people have described my situation. It's rather annoying. Even when I explain why I didn't want to go see my family, it only seemed to make them more, I guess sympathetic but I only saw it as irksome. I didn't want to go home because I knew I wouldn't enjoy it. My family is not particularly ideal. There wouldn't have been that comforting familiarity.
For a second, when I finally told my mom I wouldn't' be coming, I felt a pang of guilt. Because I did not have a legitimate reason except that I didn't want to go and that seemed selfish. I still wonder if it left my mom feeling a little hurt. But I can't let that destroy me. I shouldn't have to feel bad for choosing what would have made me happy. There comes a time when you realize that you're not looking forward to seeing that annoying relative. You've been out in the world and had other sweet potato pies, much better than the ones your mom makes. The idea of being cramped in a house full of your hungry family members no longer seems comforting.
I spent the weekend before Thanksgiving attending what I hope to be the start of a new tradition. I spent it with my friends. And we were in a tiny living room eating barbecue chicken and chicken spaghetti and drinking. Afterwards we all fell into a silent bliss watching college football. Some of us were too full, too fatigued or too inebriated to function but it was familiar. Because it was something we had been doing way back in undergrad anyway but it just finally had a name.
I understand the value of traditions. It's a way of remembering and honoring people and events from the past. To not forget. But I'd rather not put myself in a place where I may have to endure all the bad memories that come with traditions. I have new traditions to start and new memories to create. And I have to make sure to never let the good, old memories be soured by pressure to continue a routine that we're all numbly performing.
Monday, November 30, 2015
Tuesday, October 27, 2015
Weapons of Mass Impact
I am not a positive person. I am not the person you can come to when life screws you over. Because I'll agree with you when you say, "Life sucks" and we'll both be sitting there trying to figure out where it all went wrong. But I must applaud myself on a job well done. Because a week ago, on a Monday of all days, I didn't let that negativity be the leader of my day. I was well aware the day was going to be quite horrible. I knew the night before. I knew before I got out of bed. Yet, some part of me didn't want to accept that. That day, I didn't want to start the day with a loss. I didn't want to be defeated before I even played. It was beginning to be exhausting both physically and mentally. And that's when I realized it didn't have to be so bad. In that moment, I found it. The way to conquer the enemy.
The first sip of a perfect cup of coffee. Laughing fits that make you clutch your stomach. Gas being a few cents cheaper on the day you fill up. Getting all the green lights on the way home. The smallest little joys that we take for granted everyday are our weapons. Each little thing that make you smile or make that weight seem a little lighter can make a storm seem like a drizzle. To me, my life seems to be in a constant state of noise and small explosions while I step over spilled milk and chickens that never hatched. But one day, just one, I found that I was capable of making it all go away, not literally, but I guess what I'm saying is that I found a way to ignore it and I saw the small, good things were happening among the madness. And those joys carried me to the end of that day despite all the shitty things that did happen.
The next day I tried to do the same thing. It didn't work. For every small joy I found it seemed to come with a large side of unpleasantness. Yet, I'm not disappointed in myself for that. I know what kind of person I am and that was a huge deal for me. Taking the underrated moments in life and tucking them away in my pocket made such a difference in the outcome of my day. And if it never happens again, fine. But now I have more than just that one day. I have faith in myself. I know that I am not doomed to be miserable and that even in the turmoil, the tools to happiness are right there waiting to be used.
Thursday, September 3, 2015
Angels and Assholes
For my 25th birthday, I was lame and I didn't do anything noteworthy. I went to Memphis to hang out with my fellow birthday siblings with $100 to spare. I was only going to be gone from Friday to Sunday. My birthday was Thursday. This short trip was also to serve as the vacation I didn't take in July. My mental and physical break was well overdue. The Monday of the week I was supposed to leave, I began having a change of heart and I didn't want to go anymore. I felt horrible for wanting to back out of the trip after I had arranged transportation with another friend and over the past two months I told my friends how much I would get to Memphis no matter what. But even though I had received my paycheck the previous Friday, my funds were already pretty much depleted. Forgotten promises and careless spending were the culprits. That extra $100 could be saved or put to something useful, like a new comforter or at least some curtains.
I found myself on my way to Memphis that Friday and the guilt slowly began to settle. And then it nearly disappeared with every laugh, the overdue jokes and the warmth of nostalgia and familiarity. A weekend didn't feel like enough time. When has it ever? But it was enough to rid me of my guilt as well as the reality of my situation. That was until Wednesday.
Wednesday, I was scheduled to work around 1:00. I'm always grateful to be able to sleep a little later and use that idle time to catch up on TV shows. The cons were fighting through lunch time traffic....in the city. So I had planned on leaving earlier just to make it to work on time. For some reason, a few of my neighbors decided the best location to boost a car off was directly behind my car. Not wanting to waste any time on hoping they would be done soon, I politely told them that I had to leave for work soon. They assured me it wouldn't' be long. After checking on them for the 3rd time, I decided it was time to throw away the nice girl act. Before I could even open my mouth, one of the trio asks me, "Is someone picking you up?" I replied, "No, this is MY car," pointing to my dented up vehicle. And then she said the words I would have to keep repeating to people who didn't believe me, "Do you know that your tire is missing?" I rounded the corner to the driver's side of my car and she was correct. There was no rear tire. My car was being held off the ground with a large rock (at least they were kind). Trying to name the exact emotion I was feeling is still difficult. When my friend picked me up for work, it was definitely anger and wished terrible things would happen to the culprits. In the end, all that anger and sadness really amounted up to defeat. I'm no stranger to unfortunate things happening like this though none quite like this, however I will admit that some of them if not most could have been prevented had I not been so naive. But here was something that was happening that was completely out of my control. How could I have been more careful, more attentive more of an adult to keep this from happening when the thought of this happening never dawned on me? The feeling of defeat was then accompanied by disappointment in myself. Had I not used my money to go visit my friends, I wouldn't be calling my parents to bail me out again. I could finally exemplify some adult qualities for once and not feel like I'm still in college putting my account in overdraft. For a brief moment, I felt let down by the powers sworn to protect me and my constant mantra for the next day or so was "It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fair." But the powers that be seemed to feel some sympathy for me. When I went to the junk yard with my friend to find a new tire, the urge to make the world aware of what had happened to me began to take hold. I just wanted to be pitied. But that's not what was given to me. As a man in his 50s explained to us how the junkyard process worked the tidbit about why I was here slipped out. Unexpected advice followed. "The hardest part about what happened to you is going to be for you to forgive the people that did this. One day, they'll have to answer for the things they've done. But you've got to forgive them." I wasn't expecting this to come from a man, this man that appeared to have performed manual labor all his life, never received any education past high school and if I had to guess, never owned anything of great value. But here he was delivering a message to me that I didn't know I needed. I left feeling a little lighter and I carried that feeling and used it to haul me out of my foul mood. To say I forgive the people that stole my tire, I'll say it's a work in progress. I'm not upset anymore and I can laugh about it a little. But the words of a stranger, a friend making empty threats and how lucky I am to have a friend that showed me how to change a tire, that's what became my tether to being okay.
There is no way to go through this world without having a few misfortunes, some have more than others. But I have found with every lost money order, every time my car broke down or whenever I couldn't afford something, there was always someone to make me smile. Sometimes they were small, just a small effort of muscle and sometimes they developed into full laughing fits. You need those things. Well, I need those things. It's the only reason I'm not a much more darker person. My angels in the darkness, helping my fight the assholes of the world. Thanks guys.
Wednesday, I was scheduled to work around 1:00. I'm always grateful to be able to sleep a little later and use that idle time to catch up on TV shows. The cons were fighting through lunch time traffic....in the city. So I had planned on leaving earlier just to make it to work on time. For some reason, a few of my neighbors decided the best location to boost a car off was directly behind my car. Not wanting to waste any time on hoping they would be done soon, I politely told them that I had to leave for work soon. They assured me it wouldn't' be long. After checking on them for the 3rd time, I decided it was time to throw away the nice girl act. Before I could even open my mouth, one of the trio asks me, "Is someone picking you up?" I replied, "No, this is MY car," pointing to my dented up vehicle. And then she said the words I would have to keep repeating to people who didn't believe me, "Do you know that your tire is missing?" I rounded the corner to the driver's side of my car and she was correct. There was no rear tire. My car was being held off the ground with a large rock (at least they were kind). Trying to name the exact emotion I was feeling is still difficult. When my friend picked me up for work, it was definitely anger and wished terrible things would happen to the culprits. In the end, all that anger and sadness really amounted up to defeat. I'm no stranger to unfortunate things happening like this though none quite like this, however I will admit that some of them if not most could have been prevented had I not been so naive. But here was something that was happening that was completely out of my control. How could I have been more careful, more attentive more of an adult to keep this from happening when the thought of this happening never dawned on me? The feeling of defeat was then accompanied by disappointment in myself. Had I not used my money to go visit my friends, I wouldn't be calling my parents to bail me out again. I could finally exemplify some adult qualities for once and not feel like I'm still in college putting my account in overdraft. For a brief moment, I felt let down by the powers sworn to protect me and my constant mantra for the next day or so was "It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fair." But the powers that be seemed to feel some sympathy for me. When I went to the junk yard with my friend to find a new tire, the urge to make the world aware of what had happened to me began to take hold. I just wanted to be pitied. But that's not what was given to me. As a man in his 50s explained to us how the junkyard process worked the tidbit about why I was here slipped out. Unexpected advice followed. "The hardest part about what happened to you is going to be for you to forgive the people that did this. One day, they'll have to answer for the things they've done. But you've got to forgive them." I wasn't expecting this to come from a man, this man that appeared to have performed manual labor all his life, never received any education past high school and if I had to guess, never owned anything of great value. But here he was delivering a message to me that I didn't know I needed. I left feeling a little lighter and I carried that feeling and used it to haul me out of my foul mood. To say I forgive the people that stole my tire, I'll say it's a work in progress. I'm not upset anymore and I can laugh about it a little. But the words of a stranger, a friend making empty threats and how lucky I am to have a friend that showed me how to change a tire, that's what became my tether to being okay.
There is no way to go through this world without having a few misfortunes, some have more than others. But I have found with every lost money order, every time my car broke down or whenever I couldn't afford something, there was always someone to make me smile. Sometimes they were small, just a small effort of muscle and sometimes they developed into full laughing fits. You need those things. Well, I need those things. It's the only reason I'm not a much more darker person. My angels in the darkness, helping my fight the assholes of the world. Thanks guys.
Thursday, August 6, 2015
Happy Birthday
Today, I thought I lost a money order for my rent. Rent, that was due five days ago. By the way, I purchased this money order 3 days ago and I forgot to take it to the office. I've never had a panic attack before, but today had all the necessary qualifications for it to occur. Good thing I found it. Under my bed. All I could think about were several years prior, I almost sold most of my valuables because I couldn't afford to pay my rent. Then I found a money order for my rent, purchased several months prior, while cleaning my room. I turned 25 years old today. This shouldn't be still happening.
There is not special feeling when you hit these supposedly pivotal ages in your life. I don't know why I haven't realized that yet. You don't all sudden undergo this dramatic physical, emotional and mental change overnight. At 13, I wasn't moody and angsty. That had actually started the year before. At 16, I still couldn't drive and I was nowhere near getting my license. At 18, my mom was still checking on me when I stayed out past 10 and at 21, I had no interest in really drinking. Two of my friends had turned 21 almost a year earlier and therefore, the appeal slowly diminished over time. So now, at 25, I can't say that I'm more responsible and I've finally gotten this whole 'adult' thing figured out. And I'm a little disappointed at the misconceptions about adulthood. For me it was implied by many if not all adults, that as you get older, you're supposed to get wiser. From the outside, it seems as if adults had this routine ingrained in them. There was no forgetting bills and rooms were always clean. I can't remember a time when I heard my mom say to herself, "How am I gonna pay for this?". Yet, here I am, right at the edge of surviving and drowning. The somewhat embarrassing thing I hate to admit is that I don't feel less connected to my former selves. I'm more goofy and more clumsy than I've ever been. I still don't know how to parallel park and crying seems to be a weekly thought. I hope my tone isn't coming off as some type of resentment toward living to be this age. I've lived 25 years. Quarter of a century. And there were so many moments in the past years that I'll never forget. I recall them in my car on my way to work or as I'm drifting off to sleep. They're the reason I don't cry sometimes. But by this time in my life, I feel as if every mistake I've ever made is supposed to be justified at shaping the position I'm in right now. That position is supposed to be 'Fully Functional Adult'. And I don't feel that way. I'm nowhere close to feeling that way. Those mistakes still feel like stupid, avoidable mistakes and I'm still making them.
I'm sure I can find an article that says that this is still normal and I shouldn't feel bad about this because everyone my age is or has felt like this. But I can't not feel this way when the same people I attended school with appear much better off than me. And I'm aware that I can't make assumptions when I don't know the whole story. But it's hard not to wonder that if they saw my life in all it's details, would they judge me?
Today I turned 25. Or yesterday as of now. I think it's midnight. Sometimes I see a melancholy preteen. And she morphs into an eager 18 year old ready to meet new people and see new things. Then, the insecure 16 year old shows her face. The 21 year old walks up exhausted because there are more important things to worry about. At 30, maybe this current girl....woman? Maybe she'll appear, frustrated and unsure. And my 30 year old self will brush her away. Because they'll be no need to think about that moment with defeat. I'll finally be where I'm supposed to be and I'll feel like I want to feel.
There is not special feeling when you hit these supposedly pivotal ages in your life. I don't know why I haven't realized that yet. You don't all sudden undergo this dramatic physical, emotional and mental change overnight. At 13, I wasn't moody and angsty. That had actually started the year before. At 16, I still couldn't drive and I was nowhere near getting my license. At 18, my mom was still checking on me when I stayed out past 10 and at 21, I had no interest in really drinking. Two of my friends had turned 21 almost a year earlier and therefore, the appeal slowly diminished over time. So now, at 25, I can't say that I'm more responsible and I've finally gotten this whole 'adult' thing figured out. And I'm a little disappointed at the misconceptions about adulthood. For me it was implied by many if not all adults, that as you get older, you're supposed to get wiser. From the outside, it seems as if adults had this routine ingrained in them. There was no forgetting bills and rooms were always clean. I can't remember a time when I heard my mom say to herself, "How am I gonna pay for this?". Yet, here I am, right at the edge of surviving and drowning. The somewhat embarrassing thing I hate to admit is that I don't feel less connected to my former selves. I'm more goofy and more clumsy than I've ever been. I still don't know how to parallel park and crying seems to be a weekly thought. I hope my tone isn't coming off as some type of resentment toward living to be this age. I've lived 25 years. Quarter of a century. And there were so many moments in the past years that I'll never forget. I recall them in my car on my way to work or as I'm drifting off to sleep. They're the reason I don't cry sometimes. But by this time in my life, I feel as if every mistake I've ever made is supposed to be justified at shaping the position I'm in right now. That position is supposed to be 'Fully Functional Adult'. And I don't feel that way. I'm nowhere close to feeling that way. Those mistakes still feel like stupid, avoidable mistakes and I'm still making them.
I'm sure I can find an article that says that this is still normal and I shouldn't feel bad about this because everyone my age is or has felt like this. But I can't not feel this way when the same people I attended school with appear much better off than me. And I'm aware that I can't make assumptions when I don't know the whole story. But it's hard not to wonder that if they saw my life in all it's details, would they judge me?
Today I turned 25. Or yesterday as of now. I think it's midnight. Sometimes I see a melancholy preteen. And she morphs into an eager 18 year old ready to meet new people and see new things. Then, the insecure 16 year old shows her face. The 21 year old walks up exhausted because there are more important things to worry about. At 30, maybe this current girl....woman? Maybe she'll appear, frustrated and unsure. And my 30 year old self will brush her away. Because they'll be no need to think about that moment with defeat. I'll finally be where I'm supposed to be and I'll feel like I want to feel.
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
Another Blog about a Millenial and her Quarter Life Crisis
Yes, this is another blog about being in your twenties. It's another blog about being unemployed and lost and broke and unsuccessful. Plus some other things. It wouldn't surprise me if you read this first entry or even stopped reading right here and clicked 'next blog'. Because who wants to listen to my rants and whining about being a millennial, how student loans are a going to destroy the progress of our generation, about finding true love or learning something as trivial like a new shortcut to work? I don't know how the generation before us handled this moment and I'm not sure who voted that this was an option for coping. It could be our constant desire to be heard even if it is mostly nonsense. (See Twitter and Facebook) But it seems to work so I'll give this a try. In all honesty though, I need to do this blog. Therapy is expensive and I have five more years to deal with this stuff. So blog I shall.
I have ran across a few books about dealing with the quarter life crisis. Have I ever read one? Nope. You see, I've read a few articles, more than a few, about how to deal with this moment in life. Most of them mention advice about staying positive, learning to save money, getting a hobby and all that beautiful jazz. When I get to the next topic about, I don't know, 'learning how to advance at work', I usually click the back button on the menu bar and find a funny Buzzfeed video. It's not that I don't think that this advice isn't a great start to getting past all of this. I just don't think it's for me. I've been told I'm a negative person and I've tried to flip that image into believing I was just being realistic about my circumstances. Seriously though, I'm just negative as hell. I just don't think that advice applies to me. It's not what's going to get me through this. But this blog will. At least it's what I believe.
I've never been a great communicator and I have tried. Yet, I've never been able to find the right balance between bottling my feelings and hurting people's feelings. Writing things down used to be my way of coping. Over the years, I got away from that. So this blog will serve as my big girl diary. And I'll apologize for any grammatical and spelling errors, controversial topics and every other little thing society just can't handle. Welcome to this 'thing.'
I have ran across a few books about dealing with the quarter life crisis. Have I ever read one? Nope. You see, I've read a few articles, more than a few, about how to deal with this moment in life. Most of them mention advice about staying positive, learning to save money, getting a hobby and all that beautiful jazz. When I get to the next topic about, I don't know, 'learning how to advance at work', I usually click the back button on the menu bar and find a funny Buzzfeed video. It's not that I don't think that this advice isn't a great start to getting past all of this. I just don't think it's for me. I've been told I'm a negative person and I've tried to flip that image into believing I was just being realistic about my circumstances. Seriously though, I'm just negative as hell. I just don't think that advice applies to me. It's not what's going to get me through this. But this blog will. At least it's what I believe.
I've never been a great communicator and I have tried. Yet, I've never been able to find the right balance between bottling my feelings and hurting people's feelings. Writing things down used to be my way of coping. Over the years, I got away from that. So this blog will serve as my big girl diary. And I'll apologize for any grammatical and spelling errors, controversial topics and every other little thing society just can't handle. Welcome to this 'thing.'
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