I know she can GET the job, Harry, but can she DO the job?

I have always thought that making first-or-second-year college students pick a major was a little ridiculous. How on earth is someone supposed to know, at age 18, what they want to do with their lives? [1] I cannot tell you how many people I talked to in my senior year who decided that they didn't want to be an education or business or psych major, but they only had one more semester and changing their minds would mean more time and money spent at school. And yes, I know that (thankfully!) many employers are just looking for a degree in general, nevermind what that degree is in, and no (just for the record), I'm not saying that getting a degree isn't worthwhile (although see [1] and a probable future post for more thoughts on this), but the point is: that's a hell of a lot of pressure to put on someone fresh out of high school, who--thanks to senior year and an unrealistic sense of self-assurance--thinks they actually know what it is that they want to do.

Like me, for example. I knew exactly what I was doing with my life (note the rueful shake of the head). I never even changed my major, because I knew before going to college that I was going to get my English degree, and then go on to grad school to study Composition And Rhetoric, and then become a tenured English professor and teach college freshmen How To Write and have a book-lined office with a comfy swivel chair and be that crazy blue-haired professor who changed students' lives on the regular.

Confession: I had no idea what "rhetoric" actually was (something Aristotle something), and now after a year and a half of grad school I might be able to explain it to you. Same applies for "tenure." I have also learned (in a mere 3 semesters of teaching) that I'll settle for making sure my students remember to bring a pencil to class, and convincing them that teachers DO actually notice when you use 12.5 point font (and that it just makes you look desperate when I've told you seventeen times that there isn't actually a page requirement). [2]

--anyway the point is, being an English Composition professor just made the most sense. Writing has always been pretty easy for me (which is why I would wait until the night before to do it...), and I care about reaching students at the early-adult-stages because that's the time when most people deal with/go through a lot of pretty significant life changes. I certainly did. And you'd think (maybe) that the fact that literally all of my other plans had changed would have indicated to me that I should rethink the English Prof one--but no, I'm stubborn, and it was the one thing I was determined to hold on to. Going To Grad School was the reason I turned down a promotion at The Corporation (at least three different times), why I only half-heartedly looked for better-paying (and more enjoyable) jobs, why I spent my summers trying to study for the damned GRE and write up application essays instead of doing the thing that has always been waiting (patiently) on the sidelines for me to notice it. I was thoroughly devastated when I didn't get accepted on my first round of applications (surely the magna-cum-laude-with-honors and a talent for writing would up my chances of a killer statement of purpose?!) but then not getting accepted just became a challenge that I had to take on, which I did, because I knew that I could if I just tried a little harder.

Not once did I stop to think whether or not that was what I really wanted to do.

The summer before I started school was the first time I gave myself a break, took The Pressure Of Everything Else off, and allowed myself to take my writing seriously. After all, I had the time, and no other commitments, and I might as well make the most of my summer before I moved on with my "real" life. And then I wrote more that summer than I've ever written, and it was messy and mostly awful and that project has been temporarily shelved, but it underscored the thing I've always known and pretended not to: I want to write fiction. My heart has always been in the young adult fantasy shelves, with the stories about girl heroes and adventures, with magic and romance and learning about life and relationships and yourself. But then grad school happened, and there I was, doing what I'd worked so hard to do and trying (only somewhat successfully) not to be miserable while doing it.

This is a post about Making and Changing Plans (she explained), but allow me to take a small detour to talk a little bit about whining. The thing is, it's so hard to explain where I am with school without looking like I'm just pathetically complaining about having relatively-demanding responsibilities. On the one hand, my problems are directly related to the combination of the objective, widely-accepted stress about grad school and my own struggle with anxiety. Being a graduate student is all-consuming: you wake up in the morning thinking about the work you have to do, and frequently just doing your chores feels like reprieve. [3] But I also never feel like I am doing as much as I should, and I never reach a point where I can look at my to-do list and say "yep, crossed everything off for today." And because I'm teaching, I have the weight of the education of 48 students on my heart, and the constant feeling of failure when it comes to providing meaningful feedback on their work (which only about a third of them will read anyway), as well as managing my interpersonal anxiety when it comes to overly-confident-and-cocky students (or, worse, the totally non-confident students, when my Big Sister Function kicks on and it's all I can do not to hug them while they're crying). It's little wonder that I'll take my victories in the form of pencil-equipped students on a daily basis.

But that's only one side of it. The other side comes directly from the fact that I can't seem to stop from talking about how hard of a struggle this is. And that's the really upsetting thing about grad school: it consistently makes me feel like a failure, like I am the kind of person who would rather be doing anything other than the work she's supposed to be doing. It makes me genuinely concerned that I am lazy and/or incompetent, that I am bad at sticking things out, that I can't handle actual responsibility (so much for motherhood) and I'm never going to be happy because all I want to do is watch Netflix and color--and that all of this is my fault, because I'm useless. Personal life history and character references will probably (hopefully) prove otherwise, but grad school makes it hard for me to even know who I am anymore, and between weeks 1 and 15, sometimes it's literally all I can do to have a good solid cry on the couch (or the floor, or the shower, you know, wherever). [4]

For those of you who have asked me about school and gotten the overly-dramatic time-for-a-paxil answer, this is why. And then I hear myself say (again) how it's really challenging and how rough of a time I've had, and then I hate myself for whining about all of this, again, and then I shut up because methinks the lady doth protest too much.

And thus I return to my main point, which is that having plans is fine, and being the kind of person who pursues her goals is fine, but what we often forget to tell ourselves is that we need to take time to consider what it is we actually want to do, and whether our Well-Made Plans are really getting us there.

Last semester I had to decide whether to turn in an application to renew my teaching assistantship, as well as one to the Creative Writing department to Continue My Education and get a PhD (because regardless of the fact that The Plan had always been a PhD in comp/rhet, getting a PhD in general was still acceptable). It's such a good opportunity, everyone said, and it would be silly not to at least apply because you can always decide not to go later. And even if none of UWM's fiction writing classes will specifically help you with what you want to write, you can still benefit from the classes, because writing and sharing your work will always help you improve, won't it?

I am not ARGUING that with you, Harry. [5]

But for the first time (that I can think of anyway), I made an active decision not to act on something that I could have. I nervously took some deep breaths as December deadlines passed me by. Filling out some forms? No big deal. [6] But what was a big deal was realizing that even taking that step--even pretending that I would decide later--meant that there was a really good chance that I would make myself do it. Because, damn it all, I'm not a quitter! I'm not someone who flakes out on Serious And Important Life Goals! I am not someone who just gives up on her dreams!

Not arguing that with you, Harry. But just because I can get the job--and maybe, even if I CAN do the job--it doesn't mean that I have to.

Now (almost 10 years after Making Plans) I finally, actually, know what I want.

I want to write novels and raise a family. I want to go to a job that allows me to actually cross items off my to-do list, a job that I don't need in order to feel fulfilled, and I want to leave everything there when I come home. I want to read ALL of the books and learn not to feel like I'm disappointing anyone (myself included/especially) for not Being Productive every waking moment. I don't mind hard work, and I don't mind challenges. But if I'm going to face those, no matter what, they might as well be hard work and challenges on the road to doing the things I'm actually interested in.

So, long story short (much too late, they chorused): I'm about to hit the ground limping with my final semester of grad school. [7] I'm really, really overwhelmed by it (I have to write my thesis and teach a totally new class, not to mention ignore the noisy conflict of senioritis and highest-grad-school-stakes-so-far), and I could use your prayers, because I'm already a couple of emotional meltdowns in and the semester hasn't even started yet. But if Joe can jump into a volcano, and if Addie can leave the castle to find the cure for the Gray Death [8], then I can (probably) (hopefully) make it through the next 3.5 months.

And then?

I guess we'll find out.

---
[1] Not to mention the fact that we tell them to go directly to college, do not pass go, do not collect any money for having a full time job to grow up a little and figure out what you want out of life (because you certainly won't be making enough money to pay for college, to the collected dismay of the older generations) -- but that's for a different post.

[2] For the record, blue hair washes out right away and looks terrible with my complexion, and besides, I don't even like to own books.

[3] If that doesn't capture the sense for you, I don't know what will.

[4] For my Catholic friends out there: how do I nominate my husband for sainthood?

[5] This, the title, and the images are from the movie Joe versus the Volcano, which if you haven't seen yet you absolutely should.

[6] Sending in creative writing samples and actually getting accepted to the program? Much bigger deal. All things considered, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have gotten accepted anyway (realistic observation, not self-depreciation). But that's not actually the point, so this got footnoted instead.

[7] I've considered quitting, but Aaron has convinced me that I should have something to show for all the work I've done (emotional and otherwise), so I guess I'll at least give it a shot. See [4].

[8] Bonus points if you know what this is from -- looking at you, Minte.

"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.

---
[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.

---
[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.

---
[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.

get a grip

I am, for the most part, of the opinion that people grow in little spurts, which occur as a result of an external cause (which is usually a "bad" experience, but I find that I learn the most through these in particular). I myself can look back and identify large changes and how they correlate to my chronological life: parents' divorce, starting college, breakup, breakup, etc. To be honest, while I usually dislike the event itself, in periods of stasis I find myself looking forward to these occurrences. That's why I enjoy school so much -- I am constantly finding things to think about, and these thoughts act as little catalysts for development. And I crave this development. Only when I am actively learning, academically or otherwise, do I feel that I am exercising the truest and best parts of my brain and my personality. The thrill of processing new ideas and information carries me through until I get the next hit, and I can sail through life high on inspiration and creativity.

Which is why, ultimately, I was so very upset about not getting into grad school. My reaction probably came across as pretty overdramatic, since it's not unusual not to be accepted the first time you apply places, and it's not like I can't apply again. But for me, it was more than just a delay in reaching my career. Grad school was going to give me another few years of intellectual high, and probably/hopefully give me that one last boost into "adulthood" that I've been waiting for. I couldn't tell you what it is that I'm going to learn or do that will make that happen, but I was (am?) pretty positive that a step or two remains between current Piera and useful-member-of-society-Piera. And grad school felt like my opportunity to reach that change, because it was moving on from barista-ing. I enjoy my job, but once the new-job thrill died down, Starbucks was just ... Starbucks. In some ways I'm jealous of the people who have found their calling in, as we say, "the industry." There's something to be said for contributing in tasty little ways to people's lives, and going home at the end of the day feeling fulfilled. But what I know is that it isn't MY calling, and it'll always make me restless and hungry for something more. Working there has given me plenty of time to observe society, but no way to respond to it. I have learned a lot of useful skills, but now I am just ... re-using those skills, and I don't know where or how to find new ones. I even put off getting promoted because I was positive that I would be moving on, and I didn't want to waste anyone's time by training me.

Anyway, as we all know, God usually has something in mind that is very different from what we expect. This time around, it was not going to grad school in the fall of 2013. And I could not for the life of me figure out WHY--what else was there to learn about this job? How else can I change, besides becoming a shift supervisor (which will only provide a quick intellectual buzz and then fade back into the status quo)? How am I supposed to go to this job every damn day and not worry that this is all I am good for?

Gradually, I figured it out. It took getting a second job, working on two shows (in two capacities), and going basically nonstop with barely enough time to sleep and/or shower for a couple of months before I did, but here I am. Realizing (again.) that some of the stuff my mom used to tell me is actually, in fact, great wisdom.

In high school, and when I was home from college, I would have this problem where I would over-commit. I had friends in different circles, and I hated to tell someone I couldn't do anything because I already had plans with someone else, because it felt like I was picking a favorite. So I would agree to all of it, and drive all over everywhere so I could make it work. [1] And every so often, it would really get to me, and I would be sick of everyone and just want some time for myself--which of course I realized too late, since I was supposed to be going somewhere and I didn't want to let anyone down by backing out. In these moments, my mom would tell me that I needed to stop letting everyone else dictate the course of my life. I, of course, would be furious that she thought I was such a pushover.

Well kids, here I am, nearly 25 years old and realizing how much of a pushover I am. Less so by people, I guess, although I still cave pretty quickly (especially depending on who it is). Mostly, however, it's like Deirdre also used to say: I am so good at adapting to my surroundings that I forget to be myself.

I've spent ...well, at the very least, the last 12 years or so letting life have its way with me. Occasionally I would put my foot down and Make A Change, but pretty much only for the glaringly-big things. In daily life, in the course of weeks and months and (apparently) the last year and a half, I just kind of go along with things, because that's how it goes and I can deal.

But the thing is, I can't deal. I've been going crazy and I have been waiting and waiting for something to change so I will be happy and -- just ... what?

It occurred to me--during tech week, I think, or shortly after--that it's my goram life, and maybe there are things I can't change right now, but there are definitely things that I can. I can't just sit around and wait for conditions to be perfect. [2] If I want things to be different, I need to change them. I got lucky--I got so lucky [3]--that I spent the last several years being literally presented with problems to deal with, and ideas to work on, and people to interact with. I got so comfortable with it that I never really learned how to ... well, self-motivate, I guess, although that phrase seems sort of trite and cliche. I was always jealous of the friends who just Get Shit Done because I never seem to have the time or the inclination to Do those things. And what I realized is ... why not? When people say "you have to make the time" I always respond with "I literally don't have any."

...but Piera. Why not.

Because I spend all of my energy waiting for something to cause me to move. And when nothing does, I find the closest most appealing activity that I can get my hands on, because clearly the magic of discovering a new thing signifies that it will change me. Obviously, this isn't working for me. I have so many things to write, so many books to read. I have let my intellect sort of wither and fade, because nothing external is pushing me to use it. And then I had the audacity to complain that I was losing myself -- because I kept looking for external forces to give me a reason to use them. I was bored, and I forgot to use the one resource I have always had: my own mind. [4]

I will not just be carried downstream anymore; I'm building a raft and I'm learning to steer. This is why I didn't get accepted to grad school: because I can't keep waiting for life to flow in the direction I want it to go. Some parts are necessary and unchangeable--I have a good job, and full-time hours, and I don't love it all the time but it's what I have and that's how it goes right now. But that job doesn't define me. But that job won't define me unless I let it. And I am very done letting it.

So this is my plan. I quit my second job. I turned down a stage managing offer. I claimed the desk in the new apartment and I will assign myself Office Hours, and I will Get Shit Done. Grad school apps, round two. Blogging. Reading. Catching up on my Greek. I even completed day one of my couch-to-5k program this afternoon. [5]

Sometimes, we have no control over life. I believe firmly that we are incapable of controlling it as a whole, because we are broken and human. We are, however, able to control how we react to it, learn from it, change because of it. It's easy for me to look at Big Scary Life Events and say well, we can't control what happens, we just have to learn how to deal. I'm good at that. But what I learned recently is that we also have no control over the fact that sometimes life is mundane. The Big Stuff, I accept as a challenge. I welcome challenge. The little stuff, however, I let take over. And I'm going to... stop letting it. It's going to take more self-discipline than I am used to exercising, because let's face it, the only reason I was so motivated in college was because grades were involved. Real life doesn't have grades. It just has me, being supremely disappointed in myself, which honestly has never been enough of a reason for change. [6] And I have a sneaking suspicion that starting to change this part of my life will create the groundwork for my alleged final level-up into "adulthood" (if not shove me into it altogether, but let's not get too excited).

So this is my plan, because it never gets easier. Hell, it never gets anywhere if you don't start trying.

---
[1] Well technically, I would make my mom drive me everywhere. Which is probably why she started telling me to cut it the hell out.
[2] My last post, but the body is weak, talks a lot about this already, but with less ... I don't know, revelation. That post was a recognition of the situation; this one is ... A Plan Of Sorts.
[3] Except I don't believe in luck, I believe in design, but it sounds sort of poetic here so I'll stick with it
[4] I get bonus points for saying Very Dramatic Things, right?
[5] It was pathetic. Just sayin.
[6] As aside here about stewardship, and how not using my talents for the glory of God is like burying them to "keep them safe," and I'm feeling very passionate in this post so it's coming out from a "I have to be good enough for myself" perspective when there's a whole lot of Jesus and grace and things actually involved. I'm just stating for the record that all of this falls under the category of "Already Assuming XY and Z"

marriage - i think we're doing it wrong.

Yesterday we celebrated our one year anniversary. Which is really weird, because I kind of feel like I just got married. But ... I also feel like I've been married for years. Aaron and I joke that now that we've made it a whole year, we're going to have to stop enjoying our relationship, since according to the media and social commentary, this is supposed to be a battle. Men are lazy and selfish and only want sex, and women are underappreciated but the only reason anything gets done. Of course there's also the opposite side, where men are the breadwinners and women are supposed to be subservient and housewifey, but that this makes men into workaholics who don't care about their families, and it makes women into drones and nags. Either way, it's obvious to me that we're doing something wrong, because none of these sound anything like our relationship.

I know it's only been a year, and color me pretentious for already having some commentary on marriage. Trust me when I say I definitely do not believe I know everything about how this works, and that I am counting on many more years of lessons (both the fun and the hard). But what I have learned, aside from the (many) little quirks of Aaron, are (I think) relatively universal insights into how relationships work, and how they can be improved. It should come as no surprise that the underlying key is communication--which, I discovered, is not exactly what I thought it would be.

So, in no particular order, allow me to share some thoughts I've had about my relationship.
Like, for example,

patience.

This is one of those concepts that I always knew was important, but never realized how much. I always used to think that being patient meant being able to wait in a chronological sense, like for your mom when she's talking or to open your Christmas presents. But patience, as it turns out, is also about waiting to lose your temper, waiting to react, waiting to become offended. This is chronological too, technically, but has more to do with self-control. Patience, essentially, is a form of expressing your love for someone by putting them before yourself.

Typically, we Christians like to explain love with 1 Corinthians 13. Love is patient, love is kind, etc [1]... it's just one of those automatic definitions we use. It certainly isn't all-encompassing--it doesn't deal with forgiveness or selflessness or commitment, all of which are universally-accepted (maybe?) aspects of love. If you think about it, this verse doesn't even define love as much as it gives us a list of instructions on how to love. So most commonly we just file all these attributes in the folder marked "love, etc" and let it be. But I think it's very worth noting that the first thing Paul says about love is that it is patient.

Here's the thing, and maybe you knew this: I'm a nerd. so I went and looked up the original Greek text of 1 Cor 13:4. The Bible uses the phrase Ἡ ἀγάπη μακροθυμεῖ, which breaks down like so:
Ἡ ἀγάπη (agape) = the love (noun)
μακροθυμεῖ (makrothumei) = it is patient (verb)

The word makrothumeo (I am patient) is a compound verb, formed from the words makros--meaning "distant/long"--and thumos, which translates most easily into the word "passion," but (depending on prefixes and forms and such) can imply anything from desire to rage to lust. Uncle Robbie calls it "the fire in your belly." The verb makrothumeo literally means "I suffer long." Patience isn't just about waiting for things or biting back the snappy remarks. It's about being willing to suffer, and not just temporarily, but for a long period of time. It takes conscious effort, and (because we only suffer the things we don't like) it's not often rewarded. And, as previously mentioned, that's the very first thing Paul says about love: love is long-suffering.

Hold the phone, I'm not suggesting that it's only love if you are suffering. Because that's not the case either--see the actual Scripture at footnote [1] down below. And it doesn't necessarily mean that the person you love hurts you, because the perfect love from Christ does not cause us to suffer. Existing in the sinful world, however, does involve suffering, and sometimes suffering at the hands of other people because of that perfect love.

The fact is, people are flawed. It doesn't matter how much you care about each other--you're neither of you perfect, and your imperfections are, at some point, going to hurt the other person. It's easy to say that loving someone means treating them well, but we often forget that it also means being understanding when the other person makes a mistake. And being patient is very closely connected to

compromise,

which is what I really meant when I said "communication" up at the top of this post. Like so many of my little discoveries, this too turned out to be not as simple as I thought it was before I was married. When you're growing up, you learn to compromise as a means of conflict resolution. You both give up a little bit and then reach a conclusion that can make both sides happy. Important life skill? Definitely. But compromise isn't just about resolving issues--it's about preventing them. Compromising between spouses is an active, ongoing decision, and it requires the willingness to communicate.

I am of the opinion that everyone has their own language. Not as in English or Spanish, but as in a form of communication, a way of perceiving the world that you use when you express your thoughts. For example, Aaron thinks in clear cut words and ideas, and expresses them concisely and directly. He says exactly what he means, and no more and no less (usually...lol). But I, on the other hand, think in concepts and spiderwebs, with everything connected and under the lens of whatever emotion I am feeling the most at that time. Needless to say, this difference has been more than a little bit of a problem when it comes to working things out. At the root of most of our arguments is the fact that we are speaking to each other in different languages and we don't always remember to bridge the gap.

Compromise, however, is what I mean when you try to understand where the other person is coming from. It means taking the time to meta-communicate (psych term!) about your relationship, to understand why the other person says what they say, or why they get upset with you for just saying what you say. Aaron's directness can really put me off until I remember that he just cuts through the fluff and gets to the point. On the other hand, my emotional thought-train tends to frustrate Aaron, until he remembers that it's all a network of ideas and ~feelings that build up to my actual point. Compromise happens in two ways: both when you try to express your ideas in the other person's language, and when you try interpret what the other person is saying using the rules of their language. And both Aaron and I have had to learn to be patient (vocabulary word!) with each other, to hold back the reactions caused by our personal language in order to understand the language of the other person.

Moving on to other useful tidbits of advice, such as

keep your mouth shut.

Ha, ha.
No, but really.

Last year, at my friend Paul's wedding, they did the couples dance where at certain points you have to sit down if you've only been married for X amount of years. The last couple dancing had been married for ... 60? years or something, and the DJ asked them what their secret was. The man, who was totally beaming at his wife the entire time, just said, "keep your mouth shut."

Of course everyone cracked up about this. Because isn't that what society jokes about when it comes to husbands--just shut up and let your wife have her way? Personally, I got a little riled. But the more I thought about it, the more it began to make sense. It's not about not speaking your mind, or about one person having a "better" opinion. It's about being aware, and about picking your battles (even if it doesn't seem like a battle at the time).

Before I was married, I was convinced that the key was sharing everything, the good and the bad, the every-moment thoughts, the things about my husband that bothered me. Because this was "good" communication; it meant that we were open and honest with each other. But what I have discovered is that all things, including sharing, need a little bit of moderation. I definitely advocate being honest and open, and I believe that keeping secrets is the first step to closing yourself off to someone. But I also think that people tend to swing too far to the other side, and share everything, all the time, without regard for the situation or what is going on with the other person (and by "people" I mean "piera"). The trick is timing. If it's a problem that needs to be addressed, usually it's better to wait until you've both wound down from your day, and that neither of you are distracted or already upset about something else. More importantly, if you're in the middle of a fight, it's never helpful to make all the snappy comebacks that you want to, because all it does is make the problem worse. Keeping your mouth shut is a hard trick to learn (and I definitely haven't mastered it). Learning when and how to share is also difficult, but creates less conflict in the long run.

take each other seriously

This kind of seems obvious to me, because if you respect and love someone, it would follow that you respect their opinions and perspectives. I have learned, however, that that is not necessarily the case. I know for a fact that there are some things that bother Aaron that don't bother me, and vice versa. And more than a few arguments have occurred as a result of one of us going "well that's a dumb thing to be upset about." Because the fact of the matter is, it's important to one of us, for whatever reason, and even if it's objectively mundane and petty, it's still something that we are affected by. Certainly we could both learn to let it go, and to be less bothered by it, but that is an ongoing life improvement issue and can't be fixed in one instance. Even if the circumstance calls for a "honey, I think you're overreacting" (which it probably does), it's important to remember that the other person's opinion is still valid simply because it is his/her opinion.

...but not TOO seriously,

because sometimes you both just have to let it go. Especially about each other. It's so easy to pick out little things and let them get to you, but these little things are a part of that person as a whole, and they are unlikely to change. This is related to the concept of patience above, but I am applying it here in a broader, less-important sense. You could spend your whole life fighting about stuff, or you could just shrug most of it off and accept that this is the way it is for that person. Of course--this doesn't necessarily apply to actual sinful behavior, nor does it mean that you shouldn't talk about problems you have. But some things aren't going to change, and there's no point in letting them make you miserable for your whole life.

pride!

(huh! what is it good for! absolutely nothing)

Obviously, being overly proud is a bad thing. I bring it up, however, because I never realized until I was married just how much of it I have. It comes out mostly in arguments, at the moment that I realize I'm fighting a losing battle. This is when I stop making reasonable arguments and start saying whatever I feel like saying, because I don't want to be wrong, goram it.

But although this is where I can see it flaring up, I think I recognize it most in the moments when I fight against it. It seems that human nature values its dignity and pride above most other things, and making the choice to not put it first is ... well, scary. Without my pride as a defense I am suddenly a lot more vulnerable than I want to be, which means I have to remember to trust Aaron even though we're both mad at each other. It takes actual effort to decide which route to take, and that moment of decision has a tendency to add a little perspective to the situation. Which is also a bonus.

putting each other first

is at the heart of all of this, and I feel like it sort of goes without saying, but ... then again, maybe it doesn't. It's one thing to die for someone, but it's another thing entirely to live for them. [2] If you love someone, you put them before yourself--not in a worshippy sort of way, but in the sense that you look out for their best interests. This means that you exercise patience in arguments, in order to find out what the other person is trying to say. It means you think about how your comments and actions will affect them. It means trusting each other, and allowing yourself to become vulnerable to someone--because if you're both taking care of the other person, you don't need to take care of yourself. What it means, and what a lot of people don't want to believe, is that you allow yourself to be changed in order to better care for the other person. This doesn't mean that you should bend over backwards to be whatever they want, because that isn't "caring" for them in the overall sense (plus, it's destructive for both of you). In fact, it's good to stand your ground, and let the other person learn from you. I need to work on thinking in concise, clear-cut terms, and my relationship with Aaron has helped me with that a great deal. And sometimes it's good for Aaron to let go of the little things that I let go, and I think he is learning from that as well. But at the heart of it all, if you're going to commit to spending the rest of your lives together, you have to give up part of yourself for that person. You have to be willing to change, or you will spend the rest of your life in a standoff, and nothing will ever be accomplished. Plus you'll both be miserable.

Sometimes it's hard. Sometimes I want things to go MY way, and sometimes I just want Aaron to meet me where I am. But all of the time, everything works out for the best if we both try to meet each other on the other person's level. Nothing in my life has ever been this much work, or--sometimes--this hard. But nothing has ever been this awesome, either. Because when we stop trying to fight each other, and remember that all we want is for the other person to be happy, everyone wins.

---
[1] 1Cor 13:4-8a, 13 Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. ... So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
[2] This is a loose quote from ... someone. Aaron maybe? please let me know which of you lovely people said this, because it's golden and I can't take credit for it.
[3] I am really painfully aware of how much colloquial mismatched person is happening in this post ... all the "their" when I just mean "he/she" and don't want to do the work. But you know what, it's my on goram blog and I'll misuse grammatical rules however I want to, and you just need to meet me on my level. Ha.

lately.

This isn't quite as cool as my idea of a Tim-Burtony-pop-up-storybook-werewolf video, but since it's actually by the band, I guess it's okay.

Anyway, I'm hoping to return from my accidental hiatus sooner vs later.

---

Edit: I guess you can't really have a hiatus, accidental or otherwise, if you don't really post on a regular basis. I guess what I mean is that I actually have some things I want to blog about and I keep putting those things off.

pretty awesome.

here's another commentary-less link for y'all! Just some ideas to think on.

wanting, wishing, and peaches

This filibuster of a post is something of a response/continued discussion of (or at the very least, inspired by) the article/presentation "Grammar, Identity, and the Dark Side of the Subjunctive" by Phuc Tran at a TEDx conference. Thanks to Jasmine for sharing it with me on The Facebook (...a long time ago. whoops).

wanting

I love that this guy's dad just straight up told him, "don’t study something you don’t like. What do you like? Study that." Because ... yes. Just freakin yes. Life is too short to get caught up in "but what if" or "should I." We have purpose here, and we crave meaning and fulfillment for our lives. Too often we do things (or don't do things) because we feel that we must, or that we are stuck in the a holding pattern and it's too risky to break out of it. And in doing this, we aren't living meaningful lives. We're just accepting the circumstances we fell into, and giving in to the pressures that got us there, and (essentially) we aren't living the life that we were meant to live. [1]

The key is figuring out what it is you want and pursuing that thing. There's no equation to calculate which decisions will add up to a perfect life, plus, you have zero control over the future. Over your actions and your reactions, yes. But there is no way to know what the future will bring, or who you will meet, or what you might have to go through. There is an infinite amount of possibilities in the unknown, and if you spend all of your time trying to only make the "right" choices (or not making any choices, for fear of the wrong ones), you never really get anywhere, or pursue your own goals. Decision-making, for all its stress and drama (and believe me, I would know), really IS as simple as "what do you want?" Because if you aren't pursuing your goals or your dreams, what are you living for?

Don't get me wrong. It isn't wrong to have a somewhat subjunctive view of the world. It's always wise to consider the possibilities, to weigh the options, to be forward-thinking and responsible. And you can't just live your life by making rash, spur-of-the-moment decisions because you feel like you want something at that moment. Because most of the time I want to sit on my butt and watch tv and eat ice cream. And I never, ever, want to get out of bed to go to work in the morning. But that's not the kind of want I mean. I'm talking about the goals you have at your core, the things that come from your faith and your dreams and your imagination. I want to live in a heated apartment, eat decent food, and drive a safe car. I have neither an inheritance nor a rich husband, therefore, the logical conclusion is that I go to work to help pay for that stuff. I want to go to grad school and become a professor, so I took the damn GRE even thought I hated every second of it. We make sacrifices and compromises in order to meet an end goal, an ultimate desire.

Of course, if the focus is only on getting what we want, then we become self-involved and obnoxious. Enter stage left SIN, and the danger of choosing to live in a way that makes us ~~happy. This entire argument does not exist without the caveat of "sin does tend to make us 'happy' but that doesn't make it okay, or good for us." And when we're dealing with such a precarious concept as "wants," it's extra easy to let our sinful nature rule our actions. For example--I want to not lose face or dignity when I fight with Aaron. Regardless of what the fight is about, I want to be Right, and I want to Win. And if I give in to that desire, and fight for my pride (rather than try to actually resolve a disagreement), then I am, in fact, being self-involved and obnoxious. The argument is also twice as long and three times as awful. If, however, at the core of my desires, I want to maintain a loving, understanding relationship with Aaron, I have to forego my pride and maybe (gasp!) admit defeat. It's the difference between momentary, physical pleasure, and long-term overall happiness. "Usually, the right thing to desire is what makes you the happiest in the long run." [2]

wishing

Of course (if you're me) you then have crises about what is going to make you happiest, and whether you're wanting the Right Things, or if pursuing your desires is making you selfish because you aren't aware of the people around you. And here's where the "subjunctive" (as Phuc Tran would use it) gets in the way. We have a tendency to look back and think "man, if only I had ____" or "I wish I could be more like ____." This thinking is, in short, both pointless and harmful. The fact is that you didn't do that one thing, and you are not like said person. It accomplishes nothing to spend your whole life looking over your shoulder and wishing things had gone differently. I will be the first to admit that I struggle every day with doing this. I worry all the time about whether I screwed up and what people are thinking about me. For the most part I am pursuing my goals (with, at present, an agonizingly lengthy waiting period), and living the way that I feel I am called to be living. As mentioned in footnote [1], I also believe this is exactly where I am supposed to be right now. But that doesn't stop me from feeling guilty that I could not do more, or from being afraid that I have made or will make the wrong decisions.

Lately I have been having a lot of self-conscious anxiety, primarily because I have a tendency to stick my nose into other people's (relationship-related) business. With good intent, mind you, and because I love and worry about my friends, but still in a proactive, confrontational kind of way. [3] And because I care deeply about my friends and their wellbeing, I have a tendency to get vocal about the things that concern me. I have definitely learned that all relationships are different, and that they must be carried out in their own way, and I have also learned that all people need to learn in their own way, and that means usually you have to let them figure it out for themselves. But I have also heard too many times "why didn't anybody say anything," and there have been a couple of times that I could have said something and chose not to, and therefore I am determined to... well, say something. The only problem is that this kind of thing only occurs at those times when the friend in question doesn't really want to hear it, and then I begin to second-guess myself, because who am I to make any sort of comment on another person's choices.

When I expressed some of this self-conscious angst to Caitlin, she responded with resounding encouragement. She commented that we get extremely focused on not messing up, which, in her opinion, is backwards. "We should be focused on proactively doing the right thing," she told me, and it's better to go overboard with good intent than to not say what you felt. She added that because I am "the only one who feels [my] particular feelings," it is up to me to be the one to share them. "There's only one of you, and you were made that way on purpose. Just be it to the full. Care about people exactly the way you care about them, not in a more 'acceptable' way." [4]

This conversation effectively ties together both the indicative wanting and subjunctive wishing. I want to be there for my friends, because I want them to be happy in the overall sense. This means that I choose to do something that I don't really enjoy (such as telling them what they don't want to hear, and probably upsetting them, and possibly even ruining our friendship), in order to accomplish an ultimate goal. Because even if I'm wrong, saying what I said gives them cause to prove me wrong, which then in turn helps to solidify their feelings and opinions. So there is no point in wishing that I had done it differently, because it's already done, and now all I can do is trust that God will use their choices and my actions to help them find meaning and fulfillment in their lives. (see [1] in regards to "meant to be")

another catchy header

Believe it or not, this post was originally in relation to Phuc Tran's article/presentation. And I have one more speculation to make in regards to his discussion of grammar and identity; naturally it is in regards to his use of Star Wars to emphasize his point.

In the Star Wars saga, the Sith Lords speak in opaque subjunctives. Darth Vader says to Luke, "If you only knew the power of the Dark Side." Vader obviously knows how enticing the use of a present contrafactual optative sounded. And Yoda? He speaks with the bare bludgeon of the imperative and indicative. "Do or do not. There is no try." Yoda knows how hard and uncompromising the indicative is. It takes courage to embrace the indicative--it takes real courage. And even though what Yoda says is true, Luke doesn't stay with Yoda in the swamp because he has his own path to weave in between Yoda's indicative truth and Vader's seductive subjunctive. [5]

I'm going to top that nerdiness and add some good old Lutheran theology to the mix, just to see what happens. Obviously, the Sith are the badguys (or, you know, sin); the subjunctive is about guilt and shame and making up for the past or the missed opportunities. The indicative, as portrayed by Yoda, represents the Right Way To Do Things (in other words, the Law, which is of course good, but also impossible). And Luke, human dude that he is, can't stay in the Swamp of Righteousness because, requote, "he has his own path to weave."

And so do we, thanks to our sinful human natures. We are commanded to follow the indicative path of what is right, and yet we are completely unable to do so. We are tempted by the subjunctive of guilt and possibilities, and this causes us to pursue our physical desires, while feeling ashamed of the things we know we've done wrong or that we think we could have done differently. So while we try to live like the Jedi, we will never be as awesome as Yoda, and this failure makes the Dark Side seem more and more inviting, and the truth seem more and more unattainable.

But we have what Star Wars does not: we have grace. Our path is woven out of the fact that we are redeemed, and our salvation comes from outside of ourselves, outside of the confusion of our desires and the regretfulness of wishing. [6] This grace gives us the freedom to live the way we were made, and to pursue our desires: "there is nothing better for them than to be joyful and to do good as long as they live." [7] We will spend the rest of our lives wishing we had acted differently, or that we ourselves are different, because as long as we are on this earth we will be plagued by our sinful nature. But even when we do look over our shoulders and wish it could have been different, we have the reassurance that "for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose." [8]

"And this way of seeing the world? It has real force." [9]

the asides

[1] I will digress to comment (briefly, I hope) on the idea of "meant to be." Because I don't like to use this phrase lightly, and it could theoretically be argued that whatever situation we are in is the one that we are meant to be in. And by "theoretically" I mean that I can and do argue that point. I believe that simultaneously we are where we are meant to be, but also that we need to actively pursue the things that we are meant to do. Those things might change depending on the choices we have made, but then again we are designed in such a way that we are best suited for certain roles, which, if we are pursuing those roles, will place us in situations that allow us to use our talents and personalities to their highest potential. But even if we are not reaching our full potential, we are still exactly where we are meant to be, and in being there we are acquiring the necessary experience in order for us to carry on that pursuit. So it's all "meant to be" but that doesn't mean we shouldn't be ... trying to be what we are meant to be.
It's all sort of wibbly-wobbly.
[2] This is a quote from my favorite older brother, Keaton. Who may or may not remember saying it.
[3] I will abstain from a digression into my feelings and/or passionate opinions about relationships, but rest assured I have a lot of them.
[4] Dear Aussie, please excuse my paraphrase; it was for the good of the narrative. I hope I have done you justice and feel free to send me hate letters if I have not. Just do it in free verse poetry, please.
[5] Yeah yeah, I know I'm an English major and everything, but guess what, I am still too lazy to look up how to correctly cite a quote that some guy said and someone else wrote down so you could read instead of watching the video. I didn't make up that stuff in the quote block or that following phrase in quote marks (which look like this: " "), and you can hear/read it in the original text if you click the link at the top of this post. That Vietnamese guy is the one who thought it in those words first. I'm just using his argument to support my own. Happy? Good. That's all you're getting from me.
[6] "For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast." Ephesians 2:8-9
[7] Ecclesiastes 3:12
[8] Romans 8:28
[9] Another direct quote from Mr Tran. See [5]. Please note that I intentionally used his quote to mean something else entirely, and that's probably wrong and stuff. All credit and respect to Mr Tran and his article and original intent. And stuff.
[10] I didn't know what to entitle this post, and I was all out of clever and witty things to say, and Minte told me to call it peaches. So I did.

thanks, i like my glasses too

My one professor, who said he would be happy to recommend me for graduate school, hasn't turned in his letter. It was due on Saturday. The popular consensus is that I have to call him and speak to him directly about it. I mean, most likely he forgot (he's busy! and also a poet), and probably once I mention it he'll immediately feel terrible and send it in. But ... I don't want to call him. It feels so horribly confrontational. I don't want to make him feel bad, and I don't want to be in his face about a huge favor he is doing for me. I know, I know, he said he would, and it would just be being assertive--I get all of this. But it doesn't change the fact that presenting the problem to him (and in an actual conversation, not behind the safety of email) is terrifying.

Confrontation is one of those cliche things to be afraid of, and therefore, it really annoys me that I am so afraid of it. Especially because I also know exactly which childhood event made me hate it so much, and which other past events fueled that fear, and it's all so textbook that I feel like I really just need to get over it. And to make matters worse, the few times I do choose to be confrontational are usually influenced by adrenaline (or sometimes alcohol, but I never said that) and I go a little overboard and cause problems rather than actually being helpful. I have approximately one friend (you know who you are) with whom I am blatantly, confrontationally honest, but that's because our relationship started off that way. I was at a time in my life when I didn't have a lot to lose, and I was sick of not saying what I thought. That time, unfortunately, has passed.

What I hate most about this situation is the fact that it's not just about confrontation in the "let me tell you something you may or may not want to hear" sense. It's about how I live my life, and how I present myself to other people. It's about being afraid to be a person who makes a statement. It's about having people in my life who I really like, and want desperately to like me, but I spend so much time trying not to be a certain way that I forget to have a personality at all. And then when I let go and act like myself, I over-analyze other people's reactions and try to adapt my personality to fit what I think they want. Problem A: I'm really bad at reading people. Problem B: seriously, Piera? how old are you again? Apparently I never grew up past sophomore year. (actually, ironically, I was more outgoing in tenth grade than I am now. I try not to think about that.)

For example, I like the way I look without glasses. But aside from the fact that my eyes are totally messed up and it's hard for me to focus on things--it's scary not to wear them. I have big plastic colorful frames and I like them because they make a statement, and because people notice my glasses and not my face. It's not even that I don't like my face. I just feel exposed without something bold between me and the other person.

And then there's all this second-guessing before I even start a thing. I can't just let it be what it is, and deal with things as they come--I have to analyze it all and troubleshoot all the possible outcomes and then I end up not getting started in the first place. I downloaded the Couch-to-5K app on my phone, because I really do want to have some kind of workout routine. Partially it's to be healthy, partially it's to see if I'm less tired all the time, partially it's because I want to feel better about my body, partially (mostly?) it's because I want to still look good after I have babies, and I guess I should probably start that now. And I've heard good things about the Couch to 5K program, and it sounds kind of excellent because I have NO exercise in my life right now... but then there are all these factors to think about. Do I pay $1.99 for the actual app or just use the free knockoff version? Which three days of the week will I work out? Should I get a gym membership so I don't have to run in the icky cold snow? Should I go by distance or by time? Should I start doing yoga on my non-running days? Can I just get a yoga dvd and hope that I'm doing it right, or should I join a class? When will I have time for all of this?
...see problem B, above.
It's not like it's even that hard. The whole idea is you just ... start doing it, and see how it works out, and take it slow, and ease yourself into it. But apparently that's not good enough for me. I have to know what I'm doing and how it will work and I have to have a Plan before I can start doing anything. And then, you guessed it, nothing ever changes. Because I don't have the answers and I'm mostly just afraid to find out on my own.

It gets to me because I know better. I have a foundation that is stronger than my emotions, and more important than whether people like me. I am saved by grace through faith; I am living as a person who is free; God's grace toward me was not in vain. I know all of this. I think somewhere at my core I really do believe all of it--I just don't know how to make it relevant. There is a disconnect somewhere between eternal salvation and my everyday life. Because salvation matters on the grand, life-and-death-and-hope-and-a-future scale, and my personal interaction ... doesn't. Because I can't see how it matters whether I feel comfortable in my skin, whether people like me, whether I feel confident and useful and worthy. I believe so much in design and in the grand construction of time and the world, and I believe so strongly in καιρός (the Greek term for "the perfect moment" or "suitable/favorable occasion"), that I've taught myself not to worry about each individual moment. Time is fleeting, and what matters now won't matter in the end, so why bother worrying?

This belief is both a huge relief and a huge hindrance. On the one hand--if it doesn't matter, and if time is fleeting, why be anxious about asking my professor about his letter? The moment will pass. Be bold, be confident, live your life because you only have right now to do it. But it also makes it harder to get anything done, because if the moment will pass then why bother doing anything in the first place? My self-consciousness, my personality, my whole existence is just a moment in time in the grand scheme of things, so why should it be relevant? Does God's grace extend even to my feeling confident in everyday conversation, to my ability to speak clearly and boldly and without fear?

I know it does. I know it does, and that asking these questions is ridiculous. I was in Sunday school, I know all the stories about Jesus' love for his people. He turned water into wine at a wedding--how relevant was that on the grand scale, compared to feeding 5000 people or, you know, coming back to life? He hung out with the outcasts, and taught them, sure, but also probably just ... chilled, had conversation over dinner, that sort of thing. I know that God's love for the world doesn't just pertain to our salvation, but also to our lives--he knows how many hairs we have, he created our faces and our abilities and our preferences, he wants us to be happy. How many times have I said this to people or written about this or fallen back on it to shake off anxiety or depression? Like I said, I know better.

It's just ... hard. It's hard to remember that the little things matter. It's hard to remember that I matter, that people do like talking to me, that my professor will probably appreciate me calling him up to remind him about his letter because he really does want me to succeed. It's hard to look at the past and know where all these problems started, and then say "well, that sucked, but it's time to move on," but it's even harder to actually do it. It's hard to get off my ass and get stuff done, because it's so much easier and safer to stay here in my living room watching Bones than it is to take up new projects.

I'm going to call my professor, because it's more important for me to try to get into grad school than it is for me to be angsty about it. I'm (hopefully) going for a run (well, a walk) today because I want to start being healthier, but check back in a few weeks to see if I've made any progress. I went in and auditioned for a play because I miss acting, and it was kind of intimidating not to be around Concordia people who are supportive and fun, but I did it, and I feel pretty good about how it went down.

So there's all that. I need to hold on to my baptized, spiritual nature, and I need to remember that every moment, however temporary, counts for something. It doesn't count for everything, but that doesn't mean it isn't important.

And I need to remember that that same principle applies to me.

being a grown-up is hard (that's why they invented procrastination)

On the agenda for this week: applying for grad school (now that the stupid GRE is over with, thank goodness) and looking/applying for jobs (if you work with me now, you can keep that tidbit of information to yourself for the time being...).

Annnd surprise, I'm procrastiblogging! Why? Because like all homework, I like to do everything else before I hunker down to do the real thing I have to do (if you're considering me for a job, please erase that from the record) (it's different when it's for a job) (anyway I have almost never handed in anything late, even if I stayed up until 4am doing it. That's dedication).

The real point of this post, however, is my frustration with present circumstances. Let me explain. My car is leaking gas and generally falling apart, and we would like to get a new car in order to not be worrying about mine collapsing. But in order to do this, I need a second job. Second-job hunting has transformed into job hunting, because a new, better-paying full-time job would not be so awful (I'm very steadily losing the optimism I once had about humanity). So I head tra-la down Obnoxious Job Search Lane and wind up in the Neighborhood of Education-Related Job Opportunities, because I somehow always gravitate toward those. And, surprisingly enough, I have found a couple of leads and I am at present avoiding writing cover letters and so on for applications.

So, you're thinking, what is the problem here?

The problem is my brain. I want to go to grad school next fall (I'm happily assuming here that I will get into any/all of my options, just let me have my delusions thank you very much and yes I know this is a run-on sentence). And that school could be here in Madison, or maybe in Chicago, or heck maybe even in Iowa (?!). And if I step into a job that's more than just an $8/hr service industry gig, I'll only be able to do it for about a year if I move anywhere other than here, and even if I stay here, I don't know if I can juggle a full time job and full time grad school at the same time (no, now is not a good time to remind me that I'll probably have to do that). Plus, I won't know about school until probably December at the very earliest, but if I waited until then to look for new jobs (because one more year at the 'bux when the end is in sight... that's not SO bad...) means that I'd only be at the new job for less than a year if I move. SO naturally because I am me, I worry about whether I will be letting people down by quitting after how many months of learning a job and learning how to do it well--and then again, what if I don't do it well? What if I actually really suck at secretarial things even though I somehow always end up looking for those kinds of jobs? What if I just stay at my job now until I go to school (which will take a lot of patience and prayers because I am frustrated now after only a year) and then discover that I don't want to teach English Comp and/or I'm a bad English Comp teacher and I should have studied graphic design all along? What if I do all this work to apply to jobs and to school and at the end of it, I have no new job options and I don't get into the schools I applied to and... and...

...and this is about where my thought-train kind of sputters and dies, because... so, I'm thinking, what's the problem here?

I have a job right now--a full time, with benefits, steady job. I'm making money, even if it's not a lot, or not enough for the lifestyle I want. I have a bachelors degree, even if I don't go back to school, and I have a lot of various experience, and I already know it's not my calling to work at the 'bux for the rest of my life. I already know I want to do more, and I already know that God will guide me to where he wants me to be. If that's not the places I'm looking, then he'll put it directly in my face so I can't miss it. Goodness knows he's done that before.

Piera. Do you believe all that stuff you say about design, and about everything working out when and how it's supposed to? Then what is the problem here?

The problem is my brain. I think too much. And if I stopped thinking about it and just starting applying and whatnot, I probably would have avoided a lot of this drama.

But then, dear 4.7 readers, I would not have written this post about patience and design and the uselessness of angst. And if that isn't dramatic irony for you then I should have failed all of my theatre classes.

in which many various pieces of my brain suddenly made sense

My mom is from New Orleans. And by from, I mean she was born there, and then moved around a bunch (pastor's kid and all) and then returned to NO for high school.

She frequently laments that she raised "a bunch of damn yanks," but don't tell her I told you.

And I knew my mom was a big fan of southern hospitality, and that she still wants to move back there, but I never realized how much her love of the city was a part of me until Brett Will Taylor wrote this article. Mom sent me the link (surprise) and I click it to peruse, as usual, and suddenly I'm reading it thinking ... yep... me too... wow, weird.

I have a lot of fragmented thoughts in my head, but it usually takes some kind of external stimulus for those thoughts to present themselves as a coherent, concrete idea. This was one of those times. I was raised in New Orleans ... I just had the misfortune to be living in other places.

Caveat: I don't know about #7. But then, I've never actually met a pit bull.

getting there

Kaylee: how come you don't care where you're going?
Book: 'cos how you get there is the worthier part. [1]

I have a 45 minute commute to work in the morning. At 4am I pretty much sail through the countryside, since I'm only sharing the road with the occasional semi truck or raccoon. But on the way home, there's a decent amount of traffic, and on a two-lane highway with a lot of curves, it's hard to pass the people who are afraid to even go 55mph (which is the actual speed limit). Because it's a country road and it's generally acceptable to be going somewhere between 60-65, getting stuck behind these drivers is incredibly frustrating. And most of the time, there's really nothing to be done. You're stuck going 50 mph behind a line of seven cars, and that's just how it's going to be.

On the bright side, a lot of driving time also equals a lot of thinking time. It occurs to me, while I'm hot and tired and impatient with people, that I'm still moving forward, one way or another, and there's more to the journey than just getting to your destination. I think about this in three-lane traffic too, when there's a mass of cars all moving the same speed, and merging around each other into different lanes. Aside from the fact that it's pretty fascinating that all those tons of metal are moving at high speeds as one general forward-moving group of people, there's also only so much that a person can do to get from Point A to Point B. Traffic might be going at 65 mph, and you might get up to 70 dodging around a car or two, but you're still going to get stuck behind more cars all going 65. You have three different lane options, but you still have to be aware of the people and the world around you. You can't just skip ahead to the place you're headed for--you have to pay attention to what's right in front of you. And in the end, it might take a little longer than you'd like to get where you're going, but you're still going to get there.

Am I the only crazy person finding some profundity in this?

The thing about life is... you just have to keep living it. Sometimes it sucks. Sometimes it's awesome. Sometimes you don't know how you're going to making through the day and sometimes you never want the day to end. But the world is still turning and eventually your body will make you sleep and if you want to keep taking care of yourself (let alone anyone else in your life) you'll have to wake up, and eat, and go to work, and so on.

And some days, I hate it. Some days I'm bored and I'm frustrated with my surroundings, and I just want to pass the car in front of me and move on to the next part of my life.

When I discovered Ecclesiastes 3 a couple of years ago, I was shocked at how directly it applied to my thought process. It's not that the rest of the Bible doesn't apply to me, but the first 13 verses of Ecclesiastes speak to my heart in a way that few passages do.

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven. (Ecc 3:1)

There is a time for everything. I believe in a God whose design for our lives is greater than our emotions. I believe in a God whose love is greater than my sadness. Or my boredom, for that matter. I believe we're all in the neverending process of learning and of growing, and as such, we're in the neverending process of moving forward. Because things still change. They have to. We have birthdays, go to school, get jobs--heck, we wake up and do stuff and go to sleep, just because it's what we're made to do. We create relationships with people who are also moving forward, and then we learn and grow from them, and sometimes they stay with us and sometimes they don't. Summer will turn into fall eventually, and then to winter, and then next year will be here and I will be remarking on how quickly the last year seemed to pass by. Life is more or less a string of moments, one after another, cause-and-effect, and every moment (whether it's made up of seconds or weeks or years) is affected by the past and changes the future. (see here for some nerdiness in regards to the Greek word for "season").

The point is, if I spent my whole life skipping from one momentous event to the next, I would miss all the life in between. And the thing about life is that it's not always fun or beautiful. Sometimes it's stupid or stressful or miserable. Sometimes it's just plain boring. Plus, by the way, it's impossible for me to actually skip the "boring" parts of my life. But fortunately I'm still moving forward, by necessity of the laws of nature, and everything changes. And what's more, everything changes in its own time (which is to say, everything changes on God's time, and not mine). My destination never changes--I know where I'll end up, and every day I'm another step closer--but for the present, I have to pay attention to my surroundings. And chances are good that something can be learned from those surroundings, even if it's as simple a thing as patience.

---

[1] from Serenity, the pilot episode of Firefly

the human condition

My friend Jasmine found this article, and it actually doesn't sound like a terrible idea.

Arguments happen. Two people in a relationship will not always agree, and this results in a conflict. This is normal, and this is a part of what makes life interesting, to say the least. But I am always so confused when those arguments become actual fights ... because even while they're happening, a part of me is standing on the outside going "what the hell is wrong with you guys?!"

Don't get me wrong. I fight, and I fight dirty, and usually there isn't much to bring me down from my passionate indignant moment because I'm right, dammit, and the other guy is being a total moron, and why can't he see that? But you have to admit, once you've got a little space, you can look back and go "wow. that was kind of pointless." Because usually, they are. Well ... sort of. Usually the specific fight is pointless. But the big thing underneath the fight, the usually-unspoken-(semi)permanent-issue, is something that still needs fixing. And that's the thing that it's so hard to talk about, because sometimes it's even beyond our actual conscious thought process.

I guess the question I'm getting at is why do we fight. And the initial answer is pretty obvious. We have frustration with one thing in our lives and we take it out on the unfortunate person next to us. We have baggage from past relationships and project those issues on to the unfortunate person next to us. The person next to us does something that irritates us, and for whatever reason (see above) we snap and lash out at them for ticking us off. Heck, sometimes that other person is just being a jerk and we don't like it--and that actually gets closer to the question I'm asking.

What is that moment between "argument" (a conflict of interest) and "fight" (the kind with yelling, and slamming doors, and being so sure you're right that you refuse to see the other person's point). How does that happen? Why do we suddenly lose control and need to win? What are we even trying to win?

In my experience, these fights only happen with the people you love. Namely here the person with whom you are in a romantic relationship. And in that scenario, isn't the idea to work together? To take on the rest of life side by side (or back to back, depending on the situation)? So why is it that it's so easy for conflict to put the two of you at war with each other?

... I don't have an answer for this, if that's what you're hoping for. I mean obviously people fight because they perceive that something they value (usually about themselves) is being attacked. And then they want to defend it, and when people are defensive they are also ... offensive. And that's where the fights start. And yes, let us not forget that there is sin in the world and no one is perfect. Selfish nature wins involuntarily over love, and we put our own bad self (see what I did there) over the other person's well-being, and a fight is begun.

Okay. I get all of this. So that's where the fight sparks to life. But what keeps us going? Where do our brains GO in that half hour, and why can we come back together at the end of it, or even a day later, and go "wow that was stupid, let's never do THAT again"? Are we no longer ourselves when we fight? Do we just check out and let the territorial angry-animal side take over for a little while? Why is it so impossible to take a minute to try to see it from the other person's point of view, and try to understand what is bothering them, and (most importantly) put that person's interests before our own and therefore not only resolve the dispute but also help that person?

I know, I know. Original sin. Sinful human nature. I guess the answer is obvious; it's just not an answer I want, because I can't do anything about it. So maybe a safe-word would help, because that distance from each other is what clears heads and helps people think more rationally. More like themselves. The problem is that you have to have a certain amount of humility to call that time-out, and when I'm all crazed and animal-like it's kind of hard to muster that up.

post script: muster is such a weird word

things to take: a breath; stuff to storage; one day at a time

I haven't written in a while and this is kind of disappointing to me, since I was pretty excited to have a blog that wasn't just a compilation of funny and/or geeky re-posts of pictures or quotes (that's what tumblr is for). But I think the problem here is that I haven't yet figured out this blog's purpose. I created it on a day when I was feeling particularly wise and intellectual, and I have tried to write only things that had some sort of intellectual point to them. And then I kind of stopped, because sometimes I just don't feel intellectual... sometimes I just feel regular, or even kind of silly (or even kind of dumb), and then I don't feel moved to write anything at all.

So maybe that's my problem: that I need to feel inspired, one way or another, to write something smart. I have to be feeling it, and I have to have the time and nothing else to do in order to feel that way. I also have to be inside, because it's hard to see my laptop screen inside and I really like to be outside when it's so damn nice out.

But then I leave this blog to sit and gather dust, and I spend a lot of time reading (which is good) but not writing (which ... is less good). I keep waiting for days off (like today) so I can sit in Arcadia (the Spring Green bookstore/coffee house) and write something thoughtful and intellectual, and then I get here and discover that this blank-page of a day is too wide open for me to make up my mind. Do I want to finish my hard copy of the Princess Bride? or do I want to start Water for Elephants, which I have just borrowed to my brand new Kindle? Am I feeling up to applying my mind to my email to Keaton, or to a similar discussion with a friend over previous posts? Should I be studying for the GRE so I can pick a day at random to take the exam, so I can start applying to grad schools? (there's a right answer to that last one, and it's "yes" except ... ugh. studying for standardized tests is NOT how I want to spend any day, let alone a day off).

On the bright side, all of my options are relatively intelligent. Lack of internet access means no watching of netflix, so I can even go home and do smart things, since I don't technically need the internet for them. But going home means finishing thank-you notes (which are already a month overdue) or packing up wedding gifts so we can get them out of the living room and into our (overpriced) storage unit. Going home means what am I making for dinner, and maybe I should nap on the porch because it's just mmm so lovely out there.

I guess that's my life right now. A big blank page of "you just got married! what are you gonna do next??" filled with a lot of good intentions but not a lot of action. And to top it all off, I really miss being around my friends back home or back at school, and even though I really want to go to UW Madison for school, I don't look forward to the fact that it will be a few years before I'll be able to call one of them up for a last-minute Target run.

Days like today remind me that life is still ... life-y, even though it feels like a major section of the story has concluded and I've begun a new one (entitled "Grown Up and Married and Everything"). It's actually pretty awesome to realize that all I'm doing is working right now, and I have wide open afternoons to sit and be intellectual. I've been reading a ton and I have writing projects and it's actually pretty lucky that I don't have internet at home, so the battle is really between me and myself. I think this summer is going to be about making decisions (to read or to write ... that is the question) and about being less stressed out about time. Days off happen twice a week whether I realize it or not, and they don't have to be chock-full of Getting Stuff Done!!! because there are still five other afternoons to do things. And I have no deadlines for any of this (another blessing-and-curse, but there it is). And the sun will be here, all summer, and I will still get to spend some time in it, even if I also spend some time in Arcadia writing posts with unexpected and less-than-truly-intellectual themes.