I didn't realize that college was a euphemism for: more pointless classes. Except this time, you have to pay for them.
In high school, I can remember wondering why I had to take pointless classes in so many subjects that I was never going to use in my adult life. Granted, I enjoyed some of them, but let's be honest with ourselves, not one of my future employers are going to ask me to name all of the major rivers in America and demand I draw them on a map to prove that I indeed the best gal for the job.
Yet, these are the tests that I had to study for my Junior year of high school.
But, I muddled through. I pushed, I stressed, I succeeded, I failed, I toiled, I squeaked by, I managed, I survived four years in a cell block prison, following the man's rules and learning what I could from the few exceptional teachers I did have. Mentally rolling my eyes at the one's that didn't want to be there any more than I did, all so I would be rewarded. So I could finally go to college, a place where I was sure I would finally find the intellectual stimulation I have always craved. A place where I could study what I wanted and leave the nonsensical hullabaloo behind.
What a red herring.
Since arriving to my location of higher education, I find myself slipping into the same vicious cycle of mundane, inane, shenanigans. I have to pay for, and take, classes I don't care about. Classes that will never help me get into law school or onto capitol hill. Classes in which I have to do assignments that no one will even grade. Classes that require ridiculously long papers that my professors don't want to read. Papers, that are graded more on how much I agree with my instructor or how many complex sentences I use,rather than my actual grasp of the concepts presented in class. And when I'm sitting in a lecture, asking questions, trying to start discussion, really trying to dig into a concept; I'm more or less brushed off and politely told that I have no idea what I'm talking about because I do not have a PHD. Honestly, I've just had enough.
In this country we push education. We demand everyone go to school until the age of 16 and if you drop-out, you're considered a social deviant that will never amount to anything. We cut arts funding and stifle creativity. We discontinue vocational training, forcing potential electricians and mechanics to wither away in science class, coloring diagrams of cells, wishing they were anywhere else. We create tests to measure progress and find fault, when they really prove neither. We demand that kids become "well rounded", that they break there necks doing hundreds of things they really don't want to do to get to college only to do it all over again and graduate feeling like they still haven't learned anything useful. Still lost. Still wanting to know what they should be when they grow up.
Why is that? Why do we stop discussions in classrooms before they even start? Why do we force kids to take classes they don't want? Why do we teach everything for a test that won't matter when the bills need to be paid and the rent is due? Really, I don't think anyone could give me a satisfactory answer, but here's my suggestion:
Let people learn how to think, not what to think. Let artsy kids create. Give mechanically minded kids an outlet. Put the tests away and connect with a classroom. Indulge kids, let them learn what they want, let them get really good at one thing instead of expecting them to be good in a thousand things that don't really interest them anyway.
In the eternal words of the Beatles - Let it be. Life is too short to waste with all of this bureaucratic red-tape. It's time we started cultivating minds that are content and confident in their abilities. Not hazy mounds of grey matter jam packed with needless information that will just get data dumped to make room for the topics on the next exam.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Good Girls Go Bad
Women, for whatever reason, are always attracted to what society likes to call "bad boys". We do. We love their dominant demeanor, their broody personalities, and of course, their wild, care-free, seemingly invincible out-look on life. They make us feel protected and their wily ways make us feel like we must tame them. They are a challenge, a mystery, and incredibly sexy. They're what we dream about, and, 99% of the time they're the reason we cry ourselves to sleep, become best friends with Ben and Jerry, and question/despise everything we ever loved about ourselves. Because, sexy or not, they're, for lack of a more eloquent phrase, douche bags. And lately, they seem to have multiplied in number,infecting the masses faster than swine flu and breaking more hearts than McDonald's. The cause of this epidemic? A little ol' phrase I've heard muttered by some of the most outstanding men in this world- "Nice guys finish last" (minds out of the gutter please, this is serious business).
Every time I hear a fine upstanding gentlemen tell me they regret their chivalrous ways and kind heart, because girls walk all over them and end up dating/sleeping with/marrying a leather clad *insert foul slang word for male genitalia* I am incensed!
"What is wrong with these women?" I exclaim. "Don't they understand that you think they're perfect in every way and their prick of a boyfriend critiques them into shamed submission?!"
But,as true as my blunt ejaculations are, they make me a hypocrite, because I too continuously chase after the bad boys. I pray, beg, and plead even, for love to come my way. I cry out to the heavens "Dear God! Bring me a man like Bruno Mars who will love me just the way I am! Who will catch a grenade for me even if I kiss him with my eyes wide open!" And now, in hindsight of course because no one ever sees clearly any other way, I see that God has given me many Brunos to fawn over. Attractive men. Strong men. Sexy Men! Men that have lofty goals and ambitions! who are genuinely good people that just want to find a girl and make her happy. To give her the world on a silver platter. They even want to be faithful! I mean, these guys are the real deal, shining armour and everything.
And I always wrote them off, as so many of us do, because they were so easy to love. There was no fight for acceptance, no dysfunction to re-figure, and no guess work. Oh,the money I could have saved on daises with these men! Never having to sit for hours anxiously chanting "he loves me, he loves me not".But time and time again, I walked away from happiness and strode into the steroid assisted arms of confliction and low self-esteem. Because, for whatever reason, our culture has brain washed me and my fellow females to believe that if you aren't fighting, or if you aren't working at it, your relationship is almost, indefinitely broken. So we seek out challenges we never win and, most unfortunately, break the sweetest of hearts.
So this blog is an apology to all the good guys out there. To the white horse riding, armour clad, dragon slaying men who have been fooled, by many women, into believing they "just aren't good enough"; I am truly sorry. You are never given enough credit and always seem to get the short end of the stick. You get cheated on, used, heck, you might even have been abused, and you most definitely finish last. But, only because God saves the best for last. For, after we've had enough of the bad boy blues, we come back, battle scarred and bedraggled, begging you to give us another chance, dying to be rescued from our tower. And, then, after many more apologies and a few dinners before and after a couple dozen movies, you live happily ever after.
Every time I hear a fine upstanding gentlemen tell me they regret their chivalrous ways and kind heart, because girls walk all over them and end up dating/sleeping with/marrying a leather clad *insert foul slang word for male genitalia* I am incensed!
"What is wrong with these women?" I exclaim. "Don't they understand that you think they're perfect in every way and their prick of a boyfriend critiques them into shamed submission?!"
But,as true as my blunt ejaculations are, they make me a hypocrite, because I too continuously chase after the bad boys. I pray, beg, and plead even, for love to come my way. I cry out to the heavens "Dear God! Bring me a man like Bruno Mars who will love me just the way I am! Who will catch a grenade for me even if I kiss him with my eyes wide open!" And now, in hindsight of course because no one ever sees clearly any other way, I see that God has given me many Brunos to fawn over. Attractive men. Strong men. Sexy Men! Men that have lofty goals and ambitions! who are genuinely good people that just want to find a girl and make her happy. To give her the world on a silver platter. They even want to be faithful! I mean, these guys are the real deal, shining armour and everything.
And I always wrote them off, as so many of us do, because they were so easy to love. There was no fight for acceptance, no dysfunction to re-figure, and no guess work. Oh,the money I could have saved on daises with these men! Never having to sit for hours anxiously chanting "he loves me, he loves me not".But time and time again, I walked away from happiness and strode into the steroid assisted arms of confliction and low self-esteem. Because, for whatever reason, our culture has brain washed me and my fellow females to believe that if you aren't fighting, or if you aren't working at it, your relationship is almost, indefinitely broken. So we seek out challenges we never win and, most unfortunately, break the sweetest of hearts.
So this blog is an apology to all the good guys out there. To the white horse riding, armour clad, dragon slaying men who have been fooled, by many women, into believing they "just aren't good enough"; I am truly sorry. You are never given enough credit and always seem to get the short end of the stick. You get cheated on, used, heck, you might even have been abused, and you most definitely finish last. But, only because God saves the best for last. For, after we've had enough of the bad boy blues, we come back, battle scarred and bedraggled, begging you to give us another chance, dying to be rescued from our tower. And, then, after many more apologies and a few dinners before and after a couple dozen movies, you live happily ever after.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
The Case of the Pimpled Pincher
If you haven't already heard, I was robbed this morning. A squeaky clean thief with a love of fine toiletries, filched my rather pricey shampoo, conditioner, and face wash which included a rather relaxing and effective "scrublet". After being completely flabbergasted by the situation and writing a scathing facebook status (which was both assertive and entertaining so I could get as many "likes" as possible :p),I begrudgingly accepted the fact that the pilferer was never going to return their plunder. Then I decided to write this blog and assess the state of humanity which I have decided is as disheartening as cardiac arrest.
Once upon a time a man named Henry David Thoreau went to a pond named Walden and wrote a really boring book about living all alone in the northern wilderness with nothing but a pond with a charming name and a bean field. And even though the book is about as thrilling as watching grass grow and red ants battle each other for a grasshopper carcass, Thoreau managed to make one really valid point-people only steal because they are without. He believed if everyone had all of the same things and lived in the same social class, we would not only be communists, we would eradicate the art of thievery because no one would be left wanting.
It was this tid bit of philosophy that I attempted to use to understand why someone would take, not my entire shower basket complete with wash cloth, razor, and body wash, but simply my "big sexy curls" haircare products and blemish controlling foam. This is my conclusion:
I don't care if they had flat hair and zits and wanted sexy curls and blemish free skin, we are not at Walden pond, we are not communists, and I want my freaking stuff back :) Ground breaking right? I thought so.
So to everyone out there, just know that we no longer live in a world where you can leave your windows open and doors unlocked. You can't let your kids run wild until the street lights come on, and you most certainly cannot leave your shower caddy in a college bathroom. Because Car, Kids, or beauty products, if it's not nailed down, someone will take it and, like that hilarious and no famous black man on Youtube says, "they rapein' errbody out here" so do as he says and "hide ya kids, hide ya wife, and hide ya husbands too".
Once upon a time a man named Henry David Thoreau went to a pond named Walden and wrote a really boring book about living all alone in the northern wilderness with nothing but a pond with a charming name and a bean field. And even though the book is about as thrilling as watching grass grow and red ants battle each other for a grasshopper carcass, Thoreau managed to make one really valid point-people only steal because they are without. He believed if everyone had all of the same things and lived in the same social class, we would not only be communists, we would eradicate the art of thievery because no one would be left wanting.
It was this tid bit of philosophy that I attempted to use to understand why someone would take, not my entire shower basket complete with wash cloth, razor, and body wash, but simply my "big sexy curls" haircare products and blemish controlling foam. This is my conclusion:
I don't care if they had flat hair and zits and wanted sexy curls and blemish free skin, we are not at Walden pond, we are not communists, and I want my freaking stuff back :) Ground breaking right? I thought so.
So to everyone out there, just know that we no longer live in a world where you can leave your windows open and doors unlocked. You can't let your kids run wild until the street lights come on, and you most certainly cannot leave your shower caddy in a college bathroom. Because Car, Kids, or beauty products, if it's not nailed down, someone will take it and, like that hilarious and no famous black man on Youtube says, "they rapein' errbody out here" so do as he says and "hide ya kids, hide ya wife, and hide ya husbands too".
Thursday, January 6, 2011
A Dream is a Wish your Heart Makes
It is 3:00 in the morning and I'm trying to think of extremely intelligent and witty things to say to the hundreds of people who have been reading my blog. It tickles me positively pink that you're all out there, curious tourists visiting the ruins of my mind, wearing socks with your sandals and ridiculous hats made of straw that you will never wear again after the trip is over. It will however, sit in the back of your closet collecting dust next to fur coat you inherited from your great aunt Eunice but can't actually wear because the world will call you a murderer even though you don't own a club and have never been within bludgeoning distance of a baby seal. But the truth is, it's way to early in the morning to be clever so I'm just going to stop trying so hard and come out with it- I really don't think we should have to grow up.
Little kids dream. They dream all the time without boundaries. They may not be able to read, or write, or color between the lines, but by Golly they are going to grow up and become an Astronaut if it kills them. And the great thing is, they don't stop dreaming. They don't stop dreaming until they graduate from college and suddenly, even though they can read, and write, and even color between the lines, they're not smart enough to become an Astronaut. Not even with an engineering degree from the best school in the world....
Why? Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we throw away our dreams when we get older or eventually refuse to dream at all? Why do we let ourselves slip into the mundane rat race of life after working so hard to make the little kid inside of us proud?
I've heard people say that they let their dreams die because they got new dreams. Dreams of picket fences and baby carriages, and as long as they're happy, I don't see the problem. After all, I've known people that all they've ever wanted to do was become a parent, but what about everyone else who fell into a cold hard reality by default. Those who were told, or imagined, that their dreams were just too big, that they should set the bar a little lower because otherwise, they'll just be disappointed? I don't see many of those people with smiles on their faces and songs in their hearts.
So here it is, the Peter Pan cure to hopelessness, refuse to grow up. Dream, imagine, create, develop, plan, scheme, plot-just don't settle for safe. I know it's a lot easier said than done, but we really do live this life once. Why not do it up right? Why not shoot for the stars and not stop until you're out of the Milky Way? Personally, I see no reason not to want it all and then go back for more, especially because I'd rather die knowing that I lived the dream, than die dreaming of how I could have lived.
Little kids dream. They dream all the time without boundaries. They may not be able to read, or write, or color between the lines, but by Golly they are going to grow up and become an Astronaut if it kills them. And the great thing is, they don't stop dreaming. They don't stop dreaming until they graduate from college and suddenly, even though they can read, and write, and even color between the lines, they're not smart enough to become an Astronaut. Not even with an engineering degree from the best school in the world....
Why? Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we throw away our dreams when we get older or eventually refuse to dream at all? Why do we let ourselves slip into the mundane rat race of life after working so hard to make the little kid inside of us proud?
I've heard people say that they let their dreams die because they got new dreams. Dreams of picket fences and baby carriages, and as long as they're happy, I don't see the problem. After all, I've known people that all they've ever wanted to do was become a parent, but what about everyone else who fell into a cold hard reality by default. Those who were told, or imagined, that their dreams were just too big, that they should set the bar a little lower because otherwise, they'll just be disappointed? I don't see many of those people with smiles on their faces and songs in their hearts.
So here it is, the Peter Pan cure to hopelessness, refuse to grow up. Dream, imagine, create, develop, plan, scheme, plot-just don't settle for safe. I know it's a lot easier said than done, but we really do live this life once. Why not do it up right? Why not shoot for the stars and not stop until you're out of the Milky Way? Personally, I see no reason not to want it all and then go back for more, especially because I'd rather die knowing that I lived the dream, than die dreaming of how I could have lived.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Cheers! :)
You know what's interesting about a late night, how deep and mystical people become. Sitting in my living room on my favorite spot on the couch, listening to the blessed sound of silence, I can't help but transform into a pensive pool of reflective nostalgia. Even though It's a little early, I'd like to use this time to look back on 2010 and send a New Year's message out into cyberspace. There are going to be names of people you may or may not know and I apologize for not being witty or insightful, but I hope you get something out of it anyway :)
2010 was possibly the most eventful year of my life aside from 1992, which of course, was the year I joined my fellow humanoids on this life sustaining planet. It was a year filled with major mile stones that got ran over almost all at once: senior year, graduation, and of course my first semester of college which was (thankfully) successful.It was a year full of football games, basketball games, wrestling matches,and sitting in the computer lab for hours on end, just chilling on tumblr and shooting the breeze in good company. It was the year I discovered the beauty of Shakespeare, when I met the simply spectacular men of suite 201 and Michelle, and Chelsea, Brittany, and fell in love with NC State. It was the year I got to go to Church every Sunday with Matt, John, Mikey, Kayla, and later on, Chey. It was the year I met my wonderful roommate and new Best Friend Kelsey and started really understanding my faith. It was the year that Zack, Kshea, Ella, Tristan, Tyler, Charlie, Nathan, Ali, Jackie, John, Alberto, BAM, April, KJ, Gretchen, and everyone else in NSPEN, waltzed into my world and began to make every single day the best day of my life :) It was the year that I met Kristen Shank and grew even closer to my best friend Katie Liguori and shared a wonderful night at the ROTC Ball with them and our extremely attractive, very wonderful, dates. Come to think of it, we definitely had the best looking table in the whole ballroom :) Oh, and it was the year that Coleman and I finally went to a dance together. It was the year I went Clubbing for the first time and became friends with Josie and even better friends with Chrisany. 2010 I spent the night with my best friend Katie Vornheder almost every night our senior year and I am eternally grateful that she has wanted to be my best friend for what will now be 7 years this year. 2010 was the year I dated my best friend Zak which, unlike most best friends that break up, made our friendship stronger and positively wonderful. It was the year my best friend Brooke met Caleb and my bestie Ashley met Taylor. It was the year of hanging out with Dalton, Drew, Caleb and Dan the Man, all of whom are guaranteed to put a smile on your face. It was the year Tara and I became friends again and she found her wonderful boyfriend Jon. It is the year I spent all of my time at the Major's house, loving everyone in it and enjoying their existence. It was the year they moved away and I was heart broken. It was the year Kayla and Tunisia and I went to the C-store on Easter wearing Gospel Baptist Goin' to Church hats and Kayla and Chris and I stayed up on Halloween watching the strangers. It was the year of spending hours on end in my best friend Kayla's driveway, just, talking. 2010 was the year when all the cool kids came to my house to watch Glee and eat junk food every week. The year Gabby and I became friends. The year that hosted the best Christmas in Christmas history, when all my family from both sides came to our house for the holidays and my little cousins ran screaming through the house-it was marvelous! It was the year that my gov school peeps and lejeune peeps met for the first time and lived together in a beach house for a week. The year that gave me the most beautiful summer I have ever had. It was the year of Quidditch. The year I became friends with Sean again. And, the year I met Allen's family and best friend and had the honor of being his date at his sister's wedding. It was the year I met, fell in love with, and married (on facebook), Patrick McMillin. And it was also they year my first husband (I guess we're still married from our crazy illegitimate gov school wedding, I hope so anyway) Ashton, took me out on our anniversary :) It was the year I met my Acting 1 class and began, what I hope will be, life long friendships with everyone in there. It was the year Katie, Katie, Brooke and I went to Warrped Tour and almost died!!! And the year Katie L and I saw Tosh.0 live and Katie V and I almost died when we went to see Spring Awakening! Also the year that Katie V and I took a road trip to see Ash on her graduation and we had a happy jaunt in Savanna and ended up in some sketchy town with creepy people on the way back to jville. It was also the year that I got to see Kate go to her first high school dance and watch my little cousins Anna and Sarah try on my gowns for their dances. Which by the way, gave me a heart attack. 2010 was also the year Kari and I grew closer and I found out that like Bo, she is a wonderful photographer.
On a more serious note, 2010 was the first year my Dad has lived with me full time since I was 12. It was the year that I got really close to my cousin who is now like a big brother to me. In 2010 I was a cheerleader for the last time after cheering for 10 years of my life. It was also the year that I was on the stage for what I painfully admit, will probably be the last time.
But 2010, 2010 was a year I will never forget because of all the wonderful memories that were created and the people I got to know. So, instead of making a resolution to lose weight, I'm making a resolution to continue to enjoy the spectacularly phenomenal life God has blessed me with, and spend as much time as I can with all the people in it. Thank you guys for shaking things up and being absolutely fabulous human beings, and for making 2010 one of the best year's of my life. Here's a cyber New Year's toast for many many more to come! <3
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Princesses, Party Boys, and Finding the Meaning of Love
On my 17th birthday the woman in my Church whom I had always seen as my Jacksonville grandmother, told me that turning 17 was one of the most memorable moments in her life. It was memorable, she said, because 2 days after her 17th birthday, she married her husband. As of today, they will have been married 63 years. When asked how she felt about her long and seemingly happy marriage, she grinned and said "You know what, you always love em', but I acutally still like him."
They are my heroes. Married for 63 years and they still like each other! But, as much as I idolize them and the beautiful life they live together, a love like there's is a completely foreign concept to me. After all, I went to a high school where love was conjured in a matter of weeks and people changed romantic partners like they changed their socks. College isn't much different, there are just fewer taboos and a lot more booze. But still, even though I don't quite understand it, or see it everyday, I truly believe that love exists, it just doesn't exist in any of the forms we think it does.
Example A: Disney movies-ALL LIES. Riding off into the sunset isn't all it's cracked up to be because guess what ladies and gents-THE SUN GOES DOWN EVENTUALLY. Sure Prince Charming looks great in the glow of the evening, but can you handle him in the pitch black darnkess of night when the snakes come out and the horse is tired? What about after you've been busy being in distress and he's been busy fighting dragons, and because he was saving you from your tower, he forgot to pack a tent in those armoured saddle bags and the next town doesn't have a Holiday Inn Express so your forced to sleep on the ground? There is a reason we don't get to see the Princesses after they live "Happily Ever After", and it's because you can't explain the trials of marriage to a 5 year old girl who probably won't want to own everything Cinderella if she knew that her and Prince Charming are barely hanging on because he accumulated too much debt from horse racing and lost the castle.
Example B: Chick Flicks-MORE LIES. I do love a good tear jerker, but let's be honest, how many rich hot guys give up a life of partying and ridiculously gorgeous jezebels for a girl who's kind of a a control freak,pretends to hate him half the movie and ends up being pretty stubborn? I've never met one in the flesh, and I'm not entirely sure I blame rich hot guys for forgoing commitment with a doozy for one night stands with a floozy. The reality of the situation is that guys don't change. You know why? Because they're human too! I don't want to change who I am for a guy sooooo why would I ask him to do the same?
Example C: Romance novels-LIES AND SLANDER. I admit, they are a lot of fun to read, but they combine both examples a and b and magnify each of them by infinity and beyond. It's cruel really.
So what can we take from all fo this? Well, I can't force you to have an opinion or to agree with mine but, this is my blog so I get to say whatever I think and I think this: that love isn't what makes people get married, it's what happens between all the memorable moments in life. It's not the anniversary presents or the propsal. It isn't the ring, or the wedding, or the night you met it's actually wanting to share your life with someone else. It's riding off into the sunset and not killing each other when you're cold, and broke, and have lost evertyhing. It's being there when the world is crashing down and it seems hopeless. It's doctors visits, and soccer practice, and bills. Unemployment, poverty, bad days, foul moods, deployments, business trips, labour pains, tooth aches, accidents, and everything else that rains on your parade. But it's also being happy for someone else no matter how your life is shaping up. It's celebrating births, new jobs, good grades, success, homecomings, vacations, birthdays, holidays, and just reveling in the existance of another person. Love isn't seeing someone and concluding that they are flawless, it is realizing that the other person is human and accepting their flaws flawlessly. It's missing someone when they are gone.
Love is continuous. It changes, it evolves, it grows faint, but it never disappears completely. If it did, how else would marriages and friendships be able to survive in the tumultuous storms or life?
I know I'm young and have a lot to learn. I know that I'm no expert on love, or sex, or relationships: but there are so many people in my life that prove to me each and everyday that love is all around me. And sure, nothing is perfect. But, to lose faith in love, to assume that it does not exist, would be to ignore all of the people in my life that love me enough to throw a rope ladder down to rock bottom and remind me that there isn't anywhere to go but up.
They are my heroes. Married for 63 years and they still like each other! But, as much as I idolize them and the beautiful life they live together, a love like there's is a completely foreign concept to me. After all, I went to a high school where love was conjured in a matter of weeks and people changed romantic partners like they changed their socks. College isn't much different, there are just fewer taboos and a lot more booze. But still, even though I don't quite understand it, or see it everyday, I truly believe that love exists, it just doesn't exist in any of the forms we think it does.
Example A: Disney movies-ALL LIES. Riding off into the sunset isn't all it's cracked up to be because guess what ladies and gents-THE SUN GOES DOWN EVENTUALLY. Sure Prince Charming looks great in the glow of the evening, but can you handle him in the pitch black darnkess of night when the snakes come out and the horse is tired? What about after you've been busy being in distress and he's been busy fighting dragons, and because he was saving you from your tower, he forgot to pack a tent in those armoured saddle bags and the next town doesn't have a Holiday Inn Express so your forced to sleep on the ground? There is a reason we don't get to see the Princesses after they live "Happily Ever After", and it's because you can't explain the trials of marriage to a 5 year old girl who probably won't want to own everything Cinderella if she knew that her and Prince Charming are barely hanging on because he accumulated too much debt from horse racing and lost the castle.
Example B: Chick Flicks-MORE LIES. I do love a good tear jerker, but let's be honest, how many rich hot guys give up a life of partying and ridiculously gorgeous jezebels for a girl who's kind of a a control freak,pretends to hate him half the movie and ends up being pretty stubborn? I've never met one in the flesh, and I'm not entirely sure I blame rich hot guys for forgoing commitment with a doozy for one night stands with a floozy. The reality of the situation is that guys don't change. You know why? Because they're human too! I don't want to change who I am for a guy sooooo why would I ask him to do the same?
Example C: Romance novels-LIES AND SLANDER. I admit, they are a lot of fun to read, but they combine both examples a and b and magnify each of them by infinity and beyond. It's cruel really.
So what can we take from all fo this? Well, I can't force you to have an opinion or to agree with mine but, this is my blog so I get to say whatever I think and I think this: that love isn't what makes people get married, it's what happens between all the memorable moments in life. It's not the anniversary presents or the propsal. It isn't the ring, or the wedding, or the night you met it's actually wanting to share your life with someone else. It's riding off into the sunset and not killing each other when you're cold, and broke, and have lost evertyhing. It's being there when the world is crashing down and it seems hopeless. It's doctors visits, and soccer practice, and bills. Unemployment, poverty, bad days, foul moods, deployments, business trips, labour pains, tooth aches, accidents, and everything else that rains on your parade. But it's also being happy for someone else no matter how your life is shaping up. It's celebrating births, new jobs, good grades, success, homecomings, vacations, birthdays, holidays, and just reveling in the existance of another person. Love isn't seeing someone and concluding that they are flawless, it is realizing that the other person is human and accepting their flaws flawlessly. It's missing someone when they are gone.
Love is continuous. It changes, it evolves, it grows faint, but it never disappears completely. If it did, how else would marriages and friendships be able to survive in the tumultuous storms or life?
I know I'm young and have a lot to learn. I know that I'm no expert on love, or sex, or relationships: but there are so many people in my life that prove to me each and everyday that love is all around me. And sure, nothing is perfect. But, to lose faith in love, to assume that it does not exist, would be to ignore all of the people in my life that love me enough to throw a rope ladder down to rock bottom and remind me that there isn't anywhere to go but up.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Everything we Needed to Learn we Learned on Facebook
Facebook is ruining lives. It is. I know because it's ruining my life. I can't go a full two hours without jumping on to find out how every single person I have ever met is doing and why they're now single, or their status is a happy face, or why they decided to like the peperjack fan group, but simply ignored cheddar! I also can't stop changing my status to fit my mood, because for some sick twisted sociological reason, I alos want to make people wonder why I liked Chedder but completely ignored brie! I also want them to show their approval of my status choices by "like-ing" it as many times as they can! I need them to like my status! Otherwise I just feel like I'm not interesting enough and it makes me want to scream "DEAR LORD ABOVE TAKE ME NOW FOR I AM A WASTE OF SPACE UPON THIS EARTH" (actually I never want to say that about my unpopular facebook status', but when it comes to people not reading my blog...)
Apart from seeking cyber approval from my 800+ "friends , most of whom I have only met one time, I have to go on facebook in order to carry on a conversation with my closest friends and family because they won't answer their phones because-THEY'RE ON FACEBOOK TOO! So, if I want to say "hey mom I love you so very much and apperciate you suffering for almost 24 hours to bring me into existance" it's better if I leave her a wall post. Or better yet, make it my status. Otherwise, she simply won't see it in her inobx when she picks up her phone. She might also be too distracted to hear it if I told her on the phone because while we're having a heart to heart she is facebook chatting her sister and 3 closest friends, who aren't on their phones either because facebook gives them all the information about their husbands and children that they will ever need. Sometimes, even too much information.
However, even though everyone's lives are being ruined by the social networking phenomenon, facebook taught me a valuable lesson today.
Whilst procrastinating on a paper that actually isn't due until monday (please, me procrastinate? I'm too type A and neurotic for all that. If I had to pull an all nighter I'd shake like salt shaker and lose all my hair faster than you can say chinchilla), I started playing that stupid numbers game on facebook. You know when someone messages you a number and then you put that number in your status and then write something nice about that person? Well, anyway, I started playing. And you know what,it made me truly appericiate all the people I have ever met in my life. Because, even though I may not see all 800 facebook friends everyday, heck, I don't even see my closest friends everyday, all of the people I have encountered in this life have touched my heart. They have made me laugh, cry, sing, dance, get angry, feel stupid, feel beautiul, feel loved, feel hated; but the point is, for the moments that we knew each other, or have countinued to know each other, they have made me feel, well, alive. And, in a world were impersonal communication can leave you feeling deathly robotic, I couldn't be more greatful for the gift of life all of you out there has given me. Thank you :)
Apart from seeking cyber approval from my 800+ "friends , most of whom I have only met one time, I have to go on facebook in order to carry on a conversation with my closest friends and family because they won't answer their phones because-THEY'RE ON FACEBOOK TOO! So, if I want to say "hey mom I love you so very much and apperciate you suffering for almost 24 hours to bring me into existance" it's better if I leave her a wall post. Or better yet, make it my status. Otherwise, she simply won't see it in her inobx when she picks up her phone. She might also be too distracted to hear it if I told her on the phone because while we're having a heart to heart she is facebook chatting her sister and 3 closest friends, who aren't on their phones either because facebook gives them all the information about their husbands and children that they will ever need. Sometimes, even too much information.
However, even though everyone's lives are being ruined by the social networking phenomenon, facebook taught me a valuable lesson today.
Whilst procrastinating on a paper that actually isn't due until monday (please, me procrastinate? I'm too type A and neurotic for all that. If I had to pull an all nighter I'd shake like salt shaker and lose all my hair faster than you can say chinchilla), I started playing that stupid numbers game on facebook. You know when someone messages you a number and then you put that number in your status and then write something nice about that person? Well, anyway, I started playing. And you know what,it made me truly appericiate all the people I have ever met in my life. Because, even though I may not see all 800 facebook friends everyday, heck, I don't even see my closest friends everyday, all of the people I have encountered in this life have touched my heart. They have made me laugh, cry, sing, dance, get angry, feel stupid, feel beautiul, feel loved, feel hated; but the point is, for the moments that we knew each other, or have countinued to know each other, they have made me feel, well, alive. And, in a world were impersonal communication can leave you feeling deathly robotic, I couldn't be more greatful for the gift of life all of you out there has given me. Thank you :)
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