Mildly obsessed with words, my siblings' posterity, shoes, stationery, and wondering where my 20's went. Indelibly self-conscious, self-determined, self-deprecating, accessorized. Habitually keeping my head in the clouds with one eye open for my nerd in shining armor.
Valentine's Day is even more annoying if you spend your day with the epically hormonal. Let me remind you that it is a badge of honor in the eyes of some of my freshmen girls to carry around every bit of V-day loot they receive. All. Day. Long. That's a lot of bears, balloons, and chocolate.
In honor of my misery, a few Valentinesy items to cheer us all.
My Diet Coke addiction is getting worse. I don't care. I try and drink a lot of water to balance this out. I figure it is a fair trade.
I have to use the restroom a lot. I could hang with the pregnant.
I am having the 7 year itch at school. I don't necessarily want to leave it, by any means, but I certainly feel a bit lackluster as compared to other years. Time for a new unit or 12? Probably.
I can spend more hours of the day sleeping than waking during my period. All I want is sleep. And ibuprofen. And chocolate. And to punch someone in the jugular/junk (depending on their placement on my annoyance spectrum).
I have anxiety. It is almost debilitating, but usually some combination of reasoning and ugly crying into the lap of roomie as she soothes me and my ridiculous woes helps. We also sometimes go for a fro yo run if it isn't, you know, 11:47 at night. Usually anxiety hits around 11:47 at night.
I secretly wish to have a Missed Connection written about me.
Some books need to be stand alone books. Simply one book. Not the first in a series. Just that first book. Only that one book. Sorry, publishers, but you're beating it into the ground for money and we all know it and it is ruining publishing. Authors, shame on you for this!
I am in love with my phone, iPod, and laptop. It borders on unhealthy.
I dig politics. I swing liberal. I love that I have the right to vote. I die a little inside when I hear from people, especially women and individuals of color, who don't vote. So many sacrifices were made so they could vote. I struggle that they fail to understand how many people DIED and were beaten and abused and imprisoned so they could cast a vote. Show some respect. And not just every 4 years. (I say this to my pre-22 year old self.)
I don't get these floral/native/fair isle/legging/pant designs. It is one thing to regret such fashion decisions from your adolescence, it is another to make such choices as a grown woman. Listen, little Trendy-McTrendy-Sauce: You. Will. Regret. It. Mark my words. I had a houndstooth background/floral foreground pair of leggings in 5th grade. Ugly then. Ugly now.
Even so, I'll love you even if you wear hideous pants. I love that you are passionate about fashion to the point of risky. And a little piece of me will always be jealous of how cute your rockin' fanny looks in 'em. But you do realize there's a giant deer on your ass cheek, right?
I believe in cheap shoes. I have a hard time spending more than $30 for a pair of shoes. I covet real leather. I comfort myself at Payless.
My dog. I love her like a newborn baby. I became that person. She is intoxicatingly sweet and every nurturing bit of me expresses itself on my Betsy. It is what it is. But have you seen her?
I know for a fact I could be the person who narrates audio books. I've decided this would be easier than being a voice on NPR. I would just have to read the book in advance, get a sense of the narrator, and record it. I want that job so bad! Anybody know how I get into that?
I am delighted that nerds are taking over the culture. It is about time people realize there's a little nerdy in us all.
This is one of my favorite little spots on the internets.
Below is one of my favorites from her loveliness:
Grand Central, You and Me Friday evening I was racing through the Main Concourse and you were there standing still, staring up at the stars. You had a book in your hand. You were lovely. Time stood still for a second while I fell in love, then I had to catch my train. Then I thought, Damn. Then I thought of a Plan. So here’s my ridiculously romantic plan: Meet me under the stars on Valentine’s Day. 8pm. Bring your book.
If you've felt empty since The Hunger Games trilogy ended in disappointment (in my opinion it all ended very badly), you should try this series. You'll have to wait a while for the 3rd, but 1 and 2 are out. I finished 1. It is a deliciously encompassing read. The kind you can't put down. And the love story--delectable.
I'm a sap, right? A complete sucker for a good love story. I'll read almost anything just because I need to know how they fall in love. Embarrassing to admit, but entirely true.
I have been thinking lately of what courage is, what it looks like. My 9th graders recently finished a book clubs unit with that as the guiding theme: "What does courage look like?" So many novels, so many different forms of courage. I decided that--for me--courage is vulnerability. Being open, exposing even your fragility. We all have those tender spots. We all fear. We all hurt. But so much of our socialization rests on hiding that. Crying in public is poo-pooed. When we ask, "How are you?" we never mean it. All we want to hear is how "fine" everyone is doing. But that is weak. That is dishonest. That is the opposite of courage. I'm terrified of my vulnerability. But I think I've finally found my resolution for 2013: to let my vulnerability manifest itself. To share it more. To be soft and fragile and to see what happens when I expose that. My goal is to trust, or at least trust more. Especially in those arenas of life that are my most vulnerable. If I am hurt, I will learn something from it. But, honestly, I think there is more I'd miss out on if I don't pull down my defenses and expose myself for who I truly am. I am a romantic at heart who has never fallen in love. That stings. I am sometimes lazy and sometimes over-worked. I am a stress monster. I haven't figured out how to balance my life the way I thought I might when I was younger. And that is okay. I like to swear and usually feel a bit guilty about it. My body curves as it wants to, but I can make it strong. I can love it even if it looks different than some. I am wild and disorganized and imperfect. Sometimes I am boring. But actually, I am beautiful and interesting and worth loving just as I am.
To My Nerd in Shining Armor: Sometimes I wish you were here to shovel the walks, clean off the cars, and deal with any other snow removal. But really, I'd probably say "it can wait." Because if you were here I'd rather just snuggle up inside with cocoa. And a book. And you. Love, Me