"If you have to ask, then that’s your answer."

Warning - NSFSA (not safe for some audiences ... you know who you are)

This article, "Fuck Yes or No," pretty much says what I've been trying to say for forever. Manson and I have some different fundamental beliefs about sex [1], but other than that, we're more or less on the same page. I've been concerned for years with the all-too-common relationship approach of "this is good enough for now" or "I just don't want to be alone" -- if we're friends, you've probably heard my opinions about this firsthand. They might even have been directed at you. What I never feel I convey, however, is that it's so sad to hear people give terrible excuses for staying with someone they shouldn't be with. Not because I'm a hopeless, sunshine-and-unicorns-romantic [2], but because it reveals that people I care about don't think they're worth something/-one incredible.

You're worth it. Waiting for that person is worth it. I know, I know, it's easy for me to say because I have my person--but allow me to remind you that we fought for it. And the road wasn't always wonderful. [3] And before that happened, I came up with a lot of reasons to stay with other people when deep down I knew they were bad ones. Reasons, that is. Because ultimately, the Law of Fuck Yes or No doesn't say "this person is terrible and you should leave them"--it supports the idea that two people have to connect.

That being said, I want to comment on the two problems Manson observes at the end of his post. Ultimately they both sum up to "the problem is you." I mean, that's pretty much the argument he makes in general: if you're not happy, it's your responsibility to consider why, and what you're doing or not doing to cause it. And to some extent--yes. You're the only one responsible for your choices and actions. But I want to add that just because one person realized they weren't happy and needed to pursue something else doesn't mean that the other person was somehow screwing it up. Manson's Two Problems make it sound like if you aren't connecting with someone, it's your own fault, and I don't think that's true. I know some really incredible people who haven't met their person yet. I've witnessed seemingly-happy relationships blow up out of nowhere. Sure, everyone can use some self-examination and -improvement, and sure, sometimes your lack of self-actualization can prevent others from seeing who you really are, or bring about the end of a relationship. But not always.

Sometimes you just have to have the chance to meet the right person. Sometimes what seems like a "fault" on one side or another is really just a disconnect that wasn't very evident to one or both parties. Sometimes people just up and leave for "no reason" (essentially, because they're not saying Fuck Yes) and can't give a good explanation as to why. Usually I end up asking these questions: if the person you are interested in doesn't see how great you are, do you really want to try to establish a relationship with them? Do you really want to be with someone who doesn't care about you enough to work through their issues with you? [5]

I guess I'm just trying to cover both sides. You can't generalize and say that you've missed your chance because of something you did or didn't do. You also can't generalize and say that you're perfect and anyone who doesn't realize that is a loser. The point Manson is making--and that I am agreeing with--is that relationships are about connection. If you have to ask whether you are connecting, there's a good chance you aren't. If attempting to connect with someone is harder than it is successful ... maybe neither of you are saying Fuck Yes.

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[1] primarily the whole "not doing it before you're married" thing
[2] I mean... I am. but that's not the point here.
[3] I'd love to tell you the story sometime. Because I love to tell the story. Although if you're reading this, there's a good chance you know it already and really have no desire to hear it again.
[4] They usually work in the course of a semi-objective, rational discussion. They're not quite as effective right after the breakup, but then, I'm not really great at being comforting. I do like sad movies and wine and ice cream, so maybe we could compromise with those?

countdown

I think it finally hit me that my life is changing again, and I'm sort of in backpedal mode. No, I'm not pregnant. But I am starting grad school in September, and I am instructing two sections of English 101 in addition to taking my actual graduate courses (and still barista-ing on the side!) and basically, two weeks from now I will be trading in life as I know it so I can start all over again.

This was always part of my 'plan' [1], but it's hard to accept that I am, in fact, actually going back to school and actually getting hands-on, with-guidance practice/experience for the thing that I want to do as my career. I don't know how to be excited about that, because it's not even really ... real. It's like this pretend on-paper thing that's happening and it's all sort of still vague and overwhelming. Plus, the thought of actually teaching and being responsible for not one but two entire classes is just ... I mean, it's terrifying. Exciting, but terrifying. And I know in the back of my head that I really just have to--you know, show up, and go through the motions, and try not to stress out about how it's not going at all how I planned, and we'll all get through it together, but for the right-now, while I have the time to be thinking about it, it's sort of looming overhead as this big, all-consuming unknown thing.

And the weirdest part is that right now, I'm looking at the time I have before the four (count 'em, four) orientations before school starts, and I'm thinking, maybe I shouldn't have done this in the first place. I feel like I just started to figure my shit out. I somehow magically jumped the hurdle of "getting my ass in gear" and I have been faithfully writing, working out, and reading the Bible. Like, pretty much every day, or in a comfortably-alternating pattern. [2] I am creating, rather than finding, a balance of work/social life/Piera time. I've stopped stressing out quite so much about the times when I decide to do something relaxing, because it's occurred to me that it's actually good for me to let myself chill out for a while (who knew). In some ways I feel that I have a lot more on my mental/emotional plate than I have in a while, but in other ways, I feel a lot more at peace with myself in general. And I'm excited about it, and about being generally positive and happy, and I'm not ready to give it up yet! I just freakin got here!

Two weeks. Two weeks and three weekends of actually being the way I've been trying to be for the last three years: content. And that's already slipping away because the list of "things I have GOT to do before school starts" is growing--things like my proofreading gig, and having to actually research and decide on (and pay for....) my own health insurance, and cleaning/organizing my study (and finding a desk to put in it, which is really the most important part), and changing my facebook settings so that students can't see my stuff, and making sure I have some quality time with the sibs before they leave for school again, and buying things like nice pants and shoes maybe? and I already have upcoming weekend plans, and ... suddenly I don't even have my two weeks anymore, and I'm careening down the slippery slope into the future.

Don't get me wrong: I absolutely would not take it back. I can't wait to be back in school. I like me the best when I am in school--I love constantly learning, constantly writing, constantly being presented with new ideas and new ways of thinking. I love the schedule and the routine and the whiteboards and all of it. It just seems that I have been working so hard to get here that I have wasted the last three years, and it's almost ... not fair? to suddenly have figured out how to live a life that I enjoy. That I want. I finally hit my stride, and haven't I been looking for it my entire life?

In a way, it's probably taken these last three years of work and discontent and disappointment and hope in order for me to be "ready" [3] for this. A friend of mine pointed out that I needed to go through all of the challenges of the last few years in order to to learn how to face Life and find some kind of balance. I have to stop thinking of it as a waste and start trying to see it as the learning process--but that's hard to do when I am finally here, and I can't remember what was so hard about it in the first place. Then again, I will have had a few months of this before I get started... maybe I needed it all to happen right now in order for me to be excited enough to carry it with me into the upcoming semester.

What I'm saying is, I just want to BE at the start of Orientation #1. Once I hit the ground running I won't have the time to look back, even if I wanted to--and I definitely don't want to.

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[1] don't worry, I never actually counted on said plan, but it was, you know, there
[2] side effects may include: not knowing who you are anymore; wondering how long it's going to last before you fizzle out; random bouts of ridiculous excitement over the amount of productive I feel in a given day
[3] I'll probably be referencing this post from now until the day I die...

it's just money

Yup, you guessed it: this is another temper-tantrum post regarding the evils of growing up.

Seriously though--when they told me it was rough, they weren't kidding. When the adults I've complained to all gave me the "heh, yeah, I remember those days," I thought, "well, at least I'm not alone, at least they survived."

What I didn't realize was that the little "heh" was a temporary flashback to the red font on your bank statement, or the dreaded calls from 800 numbers (fourteen times a day), or the fact that you start using change when you buy things, simply because it makes you feel like you're spending less money.

For a while it was comforting to know that this is a normal post-college experience. Everyone agrees that it's hard to balance yourself out, start paying back loans, try to pay rent or utilities or whatever, nevermind--God forbid--the occasional "splurge," which at this point, includes paying $1.50 for a redbox movie. But it's normal, right? Plenty of Real Adults have done this, and survived, and have even started to have children! [1]

If it's normal, which they keep telling me it is, then everyone deals with it, and eventually, people recover. It's not forever. One day, or so I am told, it'll be normal to have a positive number in your bank account when you get your next paycheck.

The only thing is, that's just not helpful.

No, I don't want your budget lecture or your helpful suggestions or your "have you tried"s. The problem isn't our lack of ability to manage our money. The problem is the lack of freaking money. And sure, it's going to get better. Aaron is being handed work left and right, and my student loans go on hold in the fall, plus I get a salary to be a TA, which yay, but that doesn't help me now, this week, when it's Tuesday and we're overdrawn and there are literally only two eggs and a stick of butter in the fridge. At least I don't have to decide what to make for dinner?

And so, because I'm me, I like to look at all the things I did or am doing wrong. I could have gotten a degree in something marketable and not "English," because what does that degree even mean [2]. I could have "saved up for college" and/or applied to a bunch of places until I got a free ride somewhere and then I wouldn't have loans to pay back. I could shut my stupid mouth and get the job at Aldi bagging groceries, because in the end, what's another 20 hours/week of dealing with the average American consumer, and no one really cares about your degree or actual abilities anyway. And the time you are (selfishly!) taking for your marriage, your sanity, or cooking actual meals isn't really that important, because--you need the money! Get off your high horse and stop bitching!

....

I used to believe, wholeheartedly, that doing what you love is the most important. I used to believe, wholeheartedly, that it was just money, and that there would never be enough, and you just had to focus on what God is giving you today, and let tomorrow sort itself out...tomorrow.

The thing I'm most upset about, more than anything else, is the fact that it's getting harder and harder to believe in that. In theory, I do. In theory, I completely believe that God gives me what I need, when I need it. In theory, it could be a lot worse, and I have a zillion things to be thankful for, and I really have no right to complain at all.

You may have noticed, but I like to whine about growing up. Partially, it's because I know I'm not alone and I feel a sort of camaraderie with my fellow post-grads--and also, I'm a smartass and it's part of my stand-up routine. But honestly? It's so much harder than I realized it would be. And I'm not just talking about paying my bills. I'm talking about shouldering the responsibility of an apartment, a car [3], a job. I'm talking about facing the fact that it's irresponsible not to do something about the anxiety disorder I've been ignoring for years. Regular day-to-day responsibilities aren't homework that I get to put off until the last minute. The decisions Aaron and I have to make--we're it. We make the last call, and if it's a bad decision, there's no one to rescue us. There's no midnight-"get me out of this sketchy party"-phone-call. We're the end of the line, and we're just so used to being kids. Sure, we listened to what grownups told us, and eventually we actually started paying attention, but how on earth can you be "prepared" for this? All you really have is an idea of what it'll be like, and then cannonball, it's into the freezing cold water and you'd better learn how to swim.

You probably won't believe this, but I actually hate listening to myself whine. I know I don't have it as bad as it feels. I can look at today and think, I have a job, I have tips to buy groceries, I have a car to get home and a fantastic relationship with my fantastic husband. College degree, acceptance to grad school, prospects for the future, friends, clothes, cell phones--what do I really have to complain about?

"Growing up" is finding--or sometimes, creating--balance. Maybe I'm not at work every waking moment, but I'm making the most of my life. And life is more than the bank account. Life is goals and relationships, it's using the talents that we're given (even if they don't make us money!). It's finding the strength to face another day, to be able to say alright, let's have a kid or two, [4], to remember that the amount of money you have/don't have doesn't--shouldn't--can't--dictate how you live your life. Can I make changes? Sure. Will it be touch-and-go for a few years? Probably. But that's just how it is. That's just life, and it's not supposed to be easy.

"Growing up" means actually living and breathing the belief that God is giving us exactly what we need, exactly when we need it. It's not something that just happens, it's something you face, you learn, you exercise over and over again, probably forever. It's exhausting, and there's no going back. And that is the hard part.

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[1] I can't even begin to process how that would work right now. The suggestion alone raises my heart rate.
[2] If you're one of my past or future professors, please note that this is rhetorical and cynical and ... just keep reading...
[3] Two, actually, and no I don't want to talk about it
[4] Nope, not a pregnancy announcement. Stand down, soldier.

how i became a writer

For my entire life, I have wanted to be a Writer.

Naturally this means getting published, and even, maybe, (although I would never admit to such a wishful hope) producing a bestseller one day. I've been journaling and daydreaming and telling stories for as long as I can remember, and with nothing really to show for it, except a box of diaries, a computer folder dedicated to notes and story ideas, and one novella that I "completed" in high school and can't bear to re-read.

This week, I decided to take a page out of Castle's book, and take myself seriously. [1]

...anyway. In college, for my senior honors project, I decided I was going to start writing a book. At the end of the semester, I presented on it, I graduated, and under the pretense of "stepping away from it to let it develop in the back of my mind," I haven't opened the file since. [2] I had 41 pages, a lot of notes, and most importantly: inklings of an idea about what it means to Be A Writer.

In the last week of trying to Write More, these ideas have begun to resurface in the practical, hands-on kind of way, and I am eager to share [3] what I believe to be a decent foundational approach to the insurmountable task of Getting Started. [4]

1: the muse is a tease

Basically every creative person I know waits to write or draw or whatever until "the muse descends." Because when you've got some down time and you're just feeling really inspired and passionate, it's a great time to bust out the old moleskine and be clever. Except the problem is that we then tend do nothing until we get those surges of creative energy, and let's face it, the most common time to get them is either right as you're falling asleep, or when you're in the shower. [5] If you only wait for the muse, the number of times you are actually productive dwindles significantly, until you all but forget that you like to write in the first place. So don't wait. [6] You can't rely on the muse (that fickle minx) and you shouldn't. When I'm feeling inspired I'm also at the height of my perfectionism, and I hardly ever get anything done, because I'm too worried about losing the Perfect Moment to horrible writing. On the flip side, however, if you condition yourself to write every day, or every other day, for some concentrated amount of time, you are at least producing something. One and a half pages of crap is still better than nothing. Which brings me right to my next point, which is this:

2: editing and writing are not the same thing

I like to edit. In fact, I could spend all of my Designated Writing Time reviewing the last four pages, making them the best four pages you have ever read, and at the end of this time period (which really is never long enough, but it's what I have), I haven't actually written anything. This ... well, this defeats the purpose. Four pages of really brilliant writing is still only four pages, and doesn't get me a publishing deal. And yeah, it's awful to skim yesterday's work and not do anything about the fact that you hate it, and is that even what you want to say? And does this ramble? And is that a good character-driven bit of dialogue? But the thing is, it still doesn't get me another page. I'm training myself to leave it alone, to look forward to the time that I can red-pen the hell out of my ~*finished manuscript*~ and until then, I'm going to focus on actually producing said manuscript. Which means no editing.

3: there's nothing permanent about your decisions

is very closely related to #2, but I make it a separate heading because it has two main points I want to address. The first is for perfectionist, anxious creatives like me: it's okay to pick a direction for the sake of getting some writing done. Nothing is final until probably like, the final publishing date [7], and if you spend your whole 47 minutes of writing time dithering over character names or period settings, you still don't have more than four pages. Pick one, and go for it. If you hit a problem somewhere in the future, reassess as necessary. Names? Use one so ridiculous you won't become attached to it, and wait until it presents itself. Or better yer, spend some time outside of said designated writing time in order to brainstorm ideas and make notes for yourself.

The other side of this section is for perfectionist, anxious creatives like me: it's okay to change your mind about a past decision. Even one you were in love with. It's hard to let go of the things you loved (especially when they were just so good!) but more often than not, it's necessary. Mostly in terms of editing (because let's be honest, that's when you basically destroy everything you wrote and start over), but also in terms of just writing something down. You have to let the writing go in the direction it wants to go, and not get caught up in "but I was going to do it this way!" I only half believe in the writers' myth that your characters and story run away from you, but that half of me is pretty darn convinced. [8]

I'm pretty sure that Stephen King said something about "killing your darlings," [9] and that's ironic, because it brings me to my next thought:

4: there really is nothing new under the sun

I have a friend who doesn't even like to use the term "creative" because she believes that if God created the world and everything in it, all we are doing is copying it in a variety of ways. I think there's some truth to that. There are limitless scenarios and nuances, but the core ideas about humanity, relationships, and emotions are never going to change. Someone is always going to say "wow, way to rip off ___." Obviously there's a fine line here, and I'm not suggesting that 50 Pairs of Shoes is going to be a successful romance novel, but when it comes down to it, you can't spend all of your energy trying to create something completely new. Because it won't be. And anyway, the Greeks probably did it first.

5: writing is writing is writing

People keep telling me that the menial journaling and blogging that I do still counts as writing. I have a really hard time accepting this, because as previously stated I am an anxious perfectionist. But in the end, every little bit still counts toward the final goal. Everything you produce is proof that you can produce something, even that page of terrible poetry or the sketch of the family on the back of a napkin. Not everything you produce in the course of your life will be worthy of publishing or selling--but that doesn't make it meaningless. Do you write for the recognition of having written something, or do you write because writing is just...fun? Goodness knows I have to remind myself this. And goodness knows--writing isn't always fun. It's almost like a relationship: you have to dedicate the time and energy, even when your heart isn't in it, even when you wish it could be better. Writing isn't just an isolated magical Thing--it's a process, a habit, a way of life. It doesn't get better unless you do it, and you can't do it if all you care about is the end result.

Am I a writer? You know what, I think I am. I might not be a good one, I might be a little rusty--but I write, and I do it because I adore it. And I think that even for anxious perfectionists like me, that is enough.

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[1] I use "decide" as a very loose term here, but that's a story for a different post. Also, look at all the clever jokes. ahaha.

[2] except for just now, to see how many pages it was. Sorry, Andy. It's lost but not forgotten.

[3] primarily with other struggling creatives out there, because I feel your pain, but with everyone too because what the heck

[4] I mean, for whatever that's worth, since I have approximately four pages of Brilliant New Story and have never been remotely published

[5] that last bit might just be me.

[6] I think this is essentially what Stephen King is saying in his infamous "butt glue" quote (you know, about making yourself sit down to write and then staying there until it happens). I quite enjoyed On Writing, but I also appreciate Peter M Ball's objections to it, because--well, because he gets me.

[7] clearly, I don't know the first thing about this process

[8] see also [4] because I will be the first to admit I don't know what I'm talking about. I'm guessing Being A Writer is sort of like Being In Love ... you just know.

[9] or he was quoting Faulkner? It doesn't matter enough to research this right now