Speak Now #4--RANT

I spent my entire life believing that you were the good guy. I believed every word that came out of your mouth and often “punished” others for your lies. I did anything and everything you asked, and never once did I receive a thank you.

I’ve spent my life performing, not just on stage, but for you as well. When something was wrong, I came to you. No matter what my problem was there were only two responses from you—lies or downplaying. Yet, I still came running.

But now that I have discovered that you are in fact the bad guy and that everything that is crashing down right now is your fault, who do I run to? Due to your lies in the past, I can’t run to anybody else. I want you to know that you caused all of this, maybe not one hundred percent directly, but indirectly, your misdoings caused it.

When you look at your other two children and you see the selfish hellians they have become, I want you to know that they have just followed your example. When they yell and disrespect you, you should know it is because they watch you do it not only to them but also to your husband. Now, they are watching you destroy a company and a family, to “keep a lifestyle.” I hope it was worth you to you.

I hope when you come home in the afternoon and everybody leaves your presence, and you’re left all alone with nobody to help you, I hope you remember how good I was to you and the present you gave me in return.

Life = Change

Life has a tendency to change on you every now and then. This must be now. As the year comes to a close, I find myself in a whirlwind of change, some positive and some negative, some major and some minor.

At the end of the year I tend to look back on the year and reflect; however, this year I find myself looking back on my life in general. I’ve spent my entire life being chained down to others and their lies. Now, as the time flies by I am beginning to break free.

Growing up I was always led to believe that out of my two biological parents, one was the “good parent” and the other was the “bad parent.” Throughout the years my parents often portrayed their respective roles, with some variation on occasion. Unsurprisingly, I bought into this lie and truly believed that one was the “good parent.”

I looked up to the “good parent” and often incorporated personality traits, after all it was “the good parent” to which I was chained down to. However, now that I have broken free and am realizing that wings do actually span, I can see the truth.

And that truth is that neither of them are the “good parent,” but both are too similar to really differentiate. While one was continually absent, the other was present but lying and robbing me at every second. Yet, I believed every word. I placed my future and financial health in those hands and now I’m facing even bigger change.

Due to the trust that not only I but my employer placed in this parent, I am on my way to becoming unemployed. However, this cuts one more link of that chain away as well. While it is beyond depressing to know that certain actions and misdoings have caused a business of ten years to sell out, possibly a marriage to end, and a disengagement of trust and believe; it is surprisingly pleasant to be able to free.

So as I sit here in my new apartment, reflecting on the past year and my life, I am able to remove myself from the situation and look back as objectively as possible. And I see that the signs were all there, but I was too blinded by trust and belief. As the walls begin to crash down on my previous life, I can fly away and glance back and be glad to know that I have survived the storm (for now).

The turmoils of uniqueness

As I slowly begin to pull together ideas and information for an upcoming wedding, I am becoming more and more frustrated. For those of you who have never had the pleasure of simply flipping through a wedding magazine, this may be eye opening. A quick glance will prove all stereotypes about the blushing bride and perfect, magical wedding; complete with long, flowing white princess ball gowns, tons of girls in matching pink dresses, and roses all around. Aww, how sweet and perfect.

Except it’s not me, in fact I’d venture to guess it’s not a lot of people. After going through quite a few wedding books I got thoroughly discouraged at the complete lack of dresses that were not floor length and ball gown worthy. Where are the short, or even tea length dresses? Hopefully come spring and summer there will be more options, but I’m not holding my breath.

For those brides that aren’t cookie cutter stereotypes and want to have a more personal, reflective wedding, well you’re on your own out there. Luckily, we have the internet with lots of other choices. Hopefully my search will get better and I’ll be able to find more items that are truer to fiancé and myself…until then.

STRESS

Stress, he’s a nasty little booger. At one point in my life I was a stress basket, literally. I stressed about anything and everything, no matter the size. School was a stressor, work was a stressor, cheerleading and dance were both stressors, my family was a stressor, the car was a stressor, sports and activities were a stressor, and relationships were a stressor. If it was an aspect of life, it caused me stress.

Obviously, this is unhealthy. It has been shown that Type A personalities have a higher chance of having cardiovascular problems in their future. Stressing too much is unhealthy and can have lifelong effects. In undergrad I took a stress management course and committed myself to really incorporating the information and trying to make some changes. The course helped a bit; however, with three other courses and life going on I didn’t succeed but so much.

Recently, however, I have regained control over my life and things don’t really stress me like they once did. I attribute this to lots of different things, mainly my fiancé. So much has come out of my relationship that I honestly can admit that I would be a completely different person if it wasn’t for him. He not only broke through my defenses and unlocked my chains to release the true me but he also showed me that life is fun, not a competition. With him I have solidified my personality, my religious beliefs, my political beliefs, and my future goals. Finding out who I am (and my perfect match) has really eased some stress. That, and the introduction of yoga into my life; which I can again thank my fiancé for.

Anyway, this is about stress, not how amazing my future husband is. I don’t stress over things anymore. I let them ride and I concentrate on the here and now. Graduate school is difficult and time consuming; however, I’m staying on top of my course load and making great grades. No reason to stress, just learn the material and apply it. I’ve been rather surprised at my lack of stress regarding classes. Work should stress me out, “owning” your own business is extremely stressful, but it doesn’t—things will work out one way or the other.

I’ve been pretty much stress free and loving it. I had almost forgotten what stressing out felt like. Until now. As I look at the upcoming calendar I can feel some of the stress creeping back up in my soul. All of my big assignments are coming due and all of them are due on either one of two days (with the exception of exams). I have one test and two papers due in a week and a half; four papers due in three and a half weeks. It is definitely crunch time and I am beginning to feel it.

Not only is graduate school coming to a close (this semester) stressing me out (slightly) but also I am trying to move out in a little less than two months. Now, I’ve been planning this for a while and it is not a money issue—that does not worry or stress me—it is a moving issue. Nothing really stresses me out quite like backing your entire life up and moving away from home, it’s stressful; especially starting out brand new without having necessary items.
Add to that a wedding to plan and I’m reaching my threshold. Funny that three years ago this would have been just another day in my life and now three major life events (ok two plus graduate school) and my self-composure begins to unravel. Note that the wedding planning is stressful enough on its own.

What have I done to combat this old foe? Well, I tried last night and failed. First, let me say last night was when I realized everything was coming due on either one of two days and I had been looking at wedding stuff. I tried to paint my nails (showing off a diamond really makes you notice how bad your nails look) and after 30 minutes of trying and continually smudging or chipping them, I got angry and gave up. That’s when I knew there was a problem. Not having my trusty iPod with my relaxation music, I improvised the best I could and spent about another 45 minutes doing relaxation yoga postures and “meditation” (it’s in quotes because I’m not skilled or anything) followed by a restful sleep.

Life is full and complex, and totally worth it. Some points are stressful but it’s all worth it in the end. Taking a bunch of classes is totally stressful, especially with lots of assignments, but receiving that Master’s degree and working in a field I love will be worth it. Moving is stressful but waking up and coming home to my own place, with my love, will be worth it. And planning a wedding is stressful, but being surrounded by people we love and celebrating the story of us will be worth it…especially years from now when we look back in smile.

Vote 2010

When you’re young politics is a foreign language, hell even a foreign country. So, I was rather surprised last night when my younger sister volunteered into the conversation last night regarding today’s election. After informing my parents of the election and the candidates—without offering an opinion, because we all know where that would have led—my little sister informs me of a project she had to do in researching both of my district’s congressional candidates.

“Who should I vote for then?” I quickly asked, since she had done the research. Without hesitation she responded with the Republican candidate’s name. Curious, I questioned why. I received the usual answers, including that his opponent only talked about the issues, not what he has done or what he will do. When I pointed out the opponent has never served office, is a doctor, and cannot make promises regarding polices as the whole House has to vote, she quickly added another reason. This one being something about the Republican candidate wanting to do more with education and make Pell grants more available; questioned why the country should take on more debt when we already have 13 trillion in debt, she gave up.

I noticed the defeat on her face and informed her that my mind had already been made up and was not trying to make her feel bad. I was simply illustrating the point that politics and political decisions are complex and not for the faint at heart. There’s a reason why there is a voting age, it is so you can make your own decisions instead of regurgitating your parents and peers.
Remember to vote today. No matter your political affiliation, vote. It could really mean the difference between the past and the future.

Speak Now #3

Life is hard, difficult, and anxiety producing. Change is just as complex and difficult as life is. Yet, you have done an amazing job. We have all had our struggles, yet you always make it through; you have this refusal to let live knock you down; or turn out like others in your world. I don’t tell you nearly enough how much progress you have truly made.

You have progressed so much recently regarding certain relationships and I believe that healing is beginning to take place. You have discovered the joy in healthy relationships and are succeeding very well at those. I hear you’re recently engaged as well; congratulations…that’s healthy!

You’ve come a long way in realizing your role in this world and are doing a great job of adjusting to that. It is difficult to remain in your role (for example, sibling) instead of stepping up and over taking another role (for example, parent). You can’t protect them forever, but you can be there when the world knocks them down to help heal.

While I know you still hate your job, you have realized it is not permanent and are beginning to focus on brighter and new tomorrows. This is brightened your outlook as well. And your grades are improving, the future looks bright. I’m proud of you. You have made tremendous progress.

Beautiful Life

As a child I dreamed about growing up, falling in love, and having a fairytale wedding. Like most little girls, we all dreamed and planned about our own personal prince charming and our Cinderella dresses and getting married in a castle, like a true princess. Our main focus was the wedding, especially the dress.

As I got a little older, and unfortunately watched many marriages fail, it became more about the romance, about the love then it did the wedding. Don’t get me wrong, I still dreamed and planned about my wedding…I am still a girl after all. But dresses didn’t matter, or flowers quite as much finding the perfect man to be with.

Now that I’ve found that perfect man and can say I am quite a radiant bride (to be), I can return my attention to the dream of a beautiful wedding. Yet, no amount of flowers or a dress will make it beautiful, our love makes it beautiful and that is enough for me. The location is what makes it special, it brings the story of our relationship back around full circle, and in truth that is the most important aspect to me.

These past few days waking up and knowing that I am going to commit my life to the one person for me as been beyond words. Even my negative, hate filled family hasn’t been able to bring me down. I hope this feeling lasts throughout the stresses of moving, planning a wedding, and going to graduate school. Ah, life, how beautiful thy is.

A Quick Update

Yesterday I awoke, on my own accord as I did not have to work, as any ordinary day. It was Friday and as previously mentioned I was off (from the first job) and so was my boyfriend. Unfortunately, I work a second job on Fridays and I did still have to make an appearance there. After spending a nice morning together, I went off on my way promising to return; while being promised my favorite for lunch.

I worked as diligently as I could at the office and rushed home, though not as quickly as I had hoped for. The boyfriend and I rushed off to lunch and then to our favorite place, the park. The park is a special place for us, as we used to live behind it and walk there every day. It was our place and our thing. I was beyond excited to be going back as it had been quite some time since we had returned. The weather was beautiful, a crisp fall day.

I pointed out the bench I used to wait for him on and where we used to sit and talk, he suggested we go sit down. After a few seconds of sitting there and some amazingly sincere sweet words, he pulled out a diamond and asked me to marry him!

I said yes.

So, I awoke yesterday thinking it was a normal day; however, I went to sleep as an engaged woman! Amazing!

Speak Now # 2

I spent my entire life bending over backwards hoping for the one day you would say “I’m proud of you.” Twenty three years and a college degree later, I am still waiting. I am unsure what it is I need to accomplish to hear you say those words—become the first female president? However, anybody and everybody I encounter that knows you is constantly telling me how much you brag about me and how proud you are; you can tell them but not me?

I spent my entire life wishing you would be a bigger part of it—I wanted you to be there more. That’s all any little girl wants, but I earned for it deep within my soul. And when you didn’t make the means to accommodate my wants, I made it happen—I came to you. Looking back now I see that was wrong—you should be meeting my needs, should be coming to me, not the other way around. But still I did, I wanted you to be a bigger part of my life, so I made it happen.

Sadly, that still didn’t work. Even being there, with you and in your face wasn’t enough. You were still absent and not a part of my life (oh, and still never told me you were proud). I used to chalk it up to a personality trait, it was just the way you were and I eventually learned to accept that. I even defended you to others and claimed that it wasn’t personal, just a personality flaw. I was unhappy and even felt (sometimes still) as if I cheated myself out of a better future for a dumb wish, but I accepted it and accepted your flaws.

However, I am not so convinced it is a personality trait or flaw. I have seen you interact with others and I must say that you are completely wonderful with them. You didn’t miss a game or an event; you were always there for them. But me? That was too much to ask, you had better things to do—or sometimes, you had their events to attend to. And that’s fine, and even great that you were there for them. But I must ask you, was it ever awkward to be sitting there as an outsider, with both of their parents present also? Did it ever occur to that their parents were already there but yet I was performing for a crowd with neither one of mine present? Apparently not.

I am unsure of what the difference is between them and myself and I am unsure of your motivations; however, I want you to know that while it may still cut me, I do not care any longer. I spent my life performing, both athletically and academically, not for personal achievement but for dumb wishes and hopes, but now, now when I take that bar and dance, I dance for me; when I ace a test or get a 4.0, I do it for me. I no longer live my life for you but I live it for me…I just wish I had experienced this joy sooner in life instead of wasting the best years of my life trying to prove myself and attain something that is clearly impossible.

So, when you look in on me and my life , all alone from the middle of your world—as it continues to come crumbling down, I hope you do look in with pride on how well I’ve done given my circumstances and how truly amazing I am…and I hope you realize that I live for me.

My mother, the contrarian

My mother has always been known for being abrasive and confrontational. In fact, she loves confrontation, she thrives on it. During major sporting events my mom will walk into a room, figure out who the majority is pulling for and pull for the opposing team, out of spite--even against her own choice of teams. That's how dedicated she is to confrontation.

My mom, who is a very negative focused individual, brought up a somewhat controversial issue in our neck of the woods--the new Wal-Mart. Well, now that my family is aware that I am a "flaming liberal," they are also aware of my views on Wal-Mart. My mom begins the conversation about how all these people are against it and blah blah blah. I chime in and say that it is actually going to be great--bring in a ton of revenue for the county and create jobs; however, i wish it was something more like a Home Depot or a Lowe's, anything besides a Wal-mart, anything. Upon receiving my approval (for lack of a better word), she chimes in saying how it will kill the local businesses and really hurt the pharmacies and food lions we currently have. I just looked at her, and she continued using my own talking points from the past....because I said it would actually do the county some good. Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce to you my mom, the contrarian.

Speak Now #1

Almost four years have gone since I drove away watching you break down in your red car. I would be lying if claimed that your tear streaked pained face doesn’t still haunt me. Before you I had never experienced devotion and affection; it was brand new to me. And I loved it, I was happy. I enjoyed being with an individual that was supportive of both my job (even if he knew the pains and was determined to get me out) and my academic career.

In fact there wasn’t much I didn’t enjoy about the time we spent together. Every day was exciting and interesting—always something new. Every day was like a fairytale, with the sweetest gestures and words. Any girl would dream of having what I had with you. Yet, it wasn’t enough. And that is completely unfair to you.

I know the years have passed yet the guilt has yet to surpass. You did nothing to deserve the pain I caused, yet I do not regret it. I am, however, sorry that what you gave me was not enough to satisfy my young heart desires. I want to have a career and go places with my life, not stay where I was raised….our ambitions were radically different and would not have worked in the long run. I am sure you see this now, after the dust has settled and we have both gone in our respective ways.

Yet, I had to tell you. It has been haunting me and you needed to know that I am sincerely sorry for the pain.

Speak Now

I spent my entire life trying to please those around me; earning and dying for their love, approval, and affection. It took many hours of self reflection and the experience of unconditional love to release my true self. Throughout my life I have bent over backwards, kept my mouth shut, and hid myself from the world hoping for something as simple as a “thank you,” or “I’m proud of you.” Needless to say it’s been twenty three years and I have yet to receive either of them.

However, I have accepted that this is the way the people in my life are and I have stopped expecting change. This does not mean it does not hurt when I’m abused or that I don’t get bothered; it does mean that I have stopped hiding. I no longer hide behind the lies and faces that my family wishes to see but allow the true me to shine through. I don’t keep my mouth shut but instead speak, and speak freely.

With that being said, I feel as if there are things from my best that I have not spoken due to earlier constraints and fears. Well, speak now or forever hold your peace.

A Forgetful Moment

Always a very focused individual, many people have found it strange that I have fallen so madly in love with somebody who suffers (well, sometimes he enjoys) from Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD). Sometimes our motivation and drive are so completely opposite that it amazes me that we are able to work everything through.

I have often been described as “OCD” or “anal retentive” about things; as well as focused and driven. In high school I would rather stay home and complete my assignment or paper when it was first assigned then attend a party, to relieve myself the anxiety of completing the task (which was never a problem). My boyfriend, on the other hand, is a procrastinator and tends to wait until the night before to get something done. Usually that works for him, performing well under pressure.

I’ve always been grounded in reality and pretty rational. I use Excel spreadsheets daily and could produce you a budget I have compiled for both our upcoming apartment and eventual wedding. I’d rather look at the numbers and be prepared with facts and know what is coming; my boyfriend, well he’s a day dreamer.

Amazingly, we have made and could not be happier. Many of you psychology people out there will already know that some of this is thanks to “Inclusion of Other in Self (IOS).” For those of you unaware of IOS, it is the process in which an individual will begin to incorporate traits of his or her partner into his or her own personality. For example, I have incorporated some not so great traits of ADD into my life.

Throughout my relationship I have noticed little things that have slipped into my life, but nothing as large as some of the new spaciness, forgetfulness, and attention problems I am recently experiencing. In fact, I came into the office this morning that I had left the file cabinet open from where I pulled a file yesterday afternoon---cabinets and drawers left open is a huge pet peeve of mine. I must have just forgotten ;-)

My Conservative Family

The more I think about last nights events and the topics discussed, the more upset I become. Whenever I try to sit down and rationally explain what happened, what led to those events, and how society is shaping young children to believe such hateful, narrow minded views, my head explodes. So unfortunately, there will be no more elaboration on the events...not yet at least. I apologize.

My Conservative Family--A Transcript

Sitting at dinner tonight, my younger brother is clearly upset about not being invited to a family adult dinner in the coming weeks. Out of his anger/jealousy he informs my mother that she does not need to go eat a bunch of food and gain any more weight. Note, my mother has lost a lot of weight and weighs less than I do. This leads to conversations about weight, especially that of women.

My younger brother continues to say “I don’t want a plus size mom,” and I counter act with “I don’t want an anorexic mom,” in a joking fashion. My mom, being the woman that she is, asks what is wrong with that and continues to prod and ask questions. It is revealed that it is ok for a man to be big or plus size but he should have a small wife; women shouldn’t be big.

I’ve held back as long as I could at this point so it’s my turn to question. I ask him where these ideas are coming from and why he thinks that way, truly curious as to what makes his little mind think so sexist. After numerous “I just do,” “I’m so smart,” and “I don’t knows,” I give up and clearly state that when he grows up I will question him again.

Somehow, I don’t quite follow the logic myself, but somehow my step father looks up at me and asks me “Do you believe in inter-racial couples?” Well, I thought my family was fairly aware of my liberal stances; however, it must clearly be my mother and sister. Obviously, I reply in the affirmative and state that I do believe in them and do not see a problem. After explaining to my siblings, more so my brother, what inter racial is, I stated again my approval; however, this time with the disclaimer that I, myself, I have never partaken in one. My step father re

plied “that’s sick” and removed himself from the table to retrieve something.

The logic to the next question was obvious and I was prepared for it. It was actually asked by my sister: “What about homosexuality?” Again, I stated that I thought everybody was aware of my stance there but “I am very pro gay rights.” I believe I said this a few times; even when my brother asked me about a man and a man. I support gay rights and have publically advocated for them.

And bless my little sister’s heart. In the midst of my family saying that it is wrong and un natural (where, I combated with the fact that is found in over four hundred species, thanks Baba) she asked why we had to discriminate. My mother, unaware of my passion, stated that discriminate implies that we are denying rights—where I interjected and stated that we are in fact denying the gay community rights.

Which, obviously led to the issue of the Bible. She stated that we denying the right to get married because the bible states that marriage is between a man and a woman. Of course, I quickly followed with “The bible is not the United States Constitution however.” I then had to explain to her that founding fathers did not write the Constitution on Christian beliefs and that the majority of them were deists.

After a quick lesson on all of this, my step father looks at my mother and says (and I quote) “Did you raise her?” Luckily, she responded in the affirmative and stated that I was entitled to my beliefs…..I claimed I went off to college and got brainwashed.

So, that’s my narrow minded conservative family, a transcript of dinner. Expect reflection and interpretation and more thoughts tomorrow…when I’ve had time to really let it fester.

I Pledge Alligence...just not the same way you do.

Every Friday morning I am granted the opportunity to go into work an hour later than the normal. This is due to the fact that (1) I am the only employee working on Friday (and only a few hours at that) and (2) most places we deal with do not open until an hour after our normal operating hours. On Friday mornings I get to hear items on the radio that I usually miss during the week, for example, I get to hear the Pledge of Allegiance recited and the National Anthem sang. Not an extremely patriotic individual, I usually have a reaction to hearing these in the morning; however, my reaction this morning was not too pleasant.

First, let’s break down the Pledge of Allegiance:

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

At first glance there may not seem to be anything wrong with that; however, I can assure you that this statement is a bold faced lie.

For starters, “one nation under God,” is the first lie in the pledge. Contrary to whatever you may feel or chose to believe, America is not a Christian nation nor was it founded on Christian ideologies. In fact, it was not even founded on the basis of vast freedom of religion. Read a history book, do some research and you will find that our Founding Fathers were not Christian, or even religious in the sense of the word used today. Do some more history research and you will discover that the clause “under God” was not added until the year 1954 (note the pledge was originally written in 1892). Our country is not “under God,” so count that as lie or fallacy number one.

Lie or fallacy number two: “indivisible.” This one makes me chuckle just a little bit because our country is very divisible. I know the pledge was written after the Civil War, but seriously…you don’t get but so much more divisible than a Civil War. Strike number one. Strike number two: class systems. I will admit I am not but so knowledgeable regarding this area, but the gap between the wealthy and the poor is larger than it has ever been before—again the country is divided; the rich and the poor. Strike number three: two party system. I know especially with this election, the entire country is divided between the right and the left—everything Obama does is socialist and extremely left (btw, totally untrue, those of us on the left are extremely disappointed) and everything the Republicans do is extreme and turning the country backwards (not completely true, just those getting media coverage). Again the country is divided. And to take it one step forward, the two parties themselves are even becoming divided on some major issues (gay rights, immigration, taxes, etc…). So, lie or fallacy number two.

Lie or fallacy number three, my personal favorite: “liberty and justice for all.” I should not even have to address the problems with this one. Seriously? Liberty and justice for all? All Americans? Then, I must say it is safe to assume that African Americans, Hispanic Americans, and Lesbian, Bisexual, Gay, and Transgender (LBGT) are not Americans. At the time it was written women were not considered Americans either, nor were those who did not own land. How magical, liberty and justice for all—as long as you are a land owning white male. How quaint. It kills me that this has to be said over one hundred years since it was written, but obviously there is no such thing as liberty and justice for all in America…not yet at least. LGBT cannot even serve openly in the military…but it’s liberty and justice for all. Lie number three touches me deep down in my heart and I could write a whole book on the problems there; so I will leave it here.

I will; however, note that there is one truthful statement in the pledge: to the republic for which it stands. For once our country is recognized for what it truly is, a republic, not a democracy. Kudos for getting that one detail right.


Oh, and by the way, the author of the pledge was self declared and recognized Socialist…chew on that.

Learn What You Live

Growing up I had a beautiful framed picture of a well known poem titled Children Learn What They Live. I read it daily growing up and I remember taking to heart what it said and making a decision to not learn what I live. I feel as if I have done pretty well, especially considering the poem, which I have kindly posted below for you:

If children live with criticism, they learn to condemn.
If children live with hostility, they learn to fight.

If children live with fear, they learn to be apprehensive.
If children live with pity, they learn to feel sorry for themselves.
If children live with ridicule, they learn to feel shy.
If children live with jealousy, they learn to feel envy.
If children live with shame, they learn to feel guilty.
If children live with encouragement, they learn confidence.
If children live with tolerance, they learn patience.
If children live with praise, they learn appreciation.
If children live with acceptance, they learn to love.
If children live with approval, they learn to like themselves.
If children live with recognition, they learn it is good to have a goal.
If children live with sharing, they learn generosity.
If children live with honesty, they learn truthfulness.
If children live with fairness, they learn justice.
If children live with kindness and consideration, they learn respect.
If children live with security, they learn to have faith in themselves and in those about them.
If children live with friendliness, they learn the world is a nice place in which to live.

For those of you who know me and my family, you can easily tell that while I may have initially learned the environment in which I lived, I, however, have managed to learn and maintain the exact opposite of the environment in which I grew up. Sadly, I’m not so sure I can say the same for my younger siblings.

I am constantly reminded of the starch differences between them and myself, and even my family. A positive focused “elitist” who leans to the left and cares about her health and diet choices is the opposite of my negative country conservative family who would eat red meat and potatoes and candy all day long. My younger siblings seem to have embraced that life and live it. I don’t feel as if the above poem truly fits the way they learn and live; but I was able to find one titled Teenagers Learn What They Live. I think it describes them well:

If teenagers live with pressure, they learn to be stressed.
If teenagers live with failure, they learn to give up.
If teenagers live with rejection, they learn to feel lost.
If teenagers live with too many rules, they learn to get around them.
If teenagers live with too few rules, they learn to ignore the needs of others.
If teenagers live with broken promises, they learn to be disappointed.
If teenagers live with respect, they learn to honour others.
If teenagers live with trust, they learn to tell the truth.
If teenagers live with openness, they learn to discover themselves.
If teenagers live with natural consequences, they learn to be accountable.
If teenagers live with responsibility, they learn to be self-reliant.
If teenagers live with healthy habits, they learn to be kind to their bodies.
If teenagers live with support, they learn to feel good about themselves.
If teenagers live with creativity, they learn to share who they are.
If teenagers live with caring attention, they learn how to love.
If teenagers live with positive expectations, they learn to help build a better world.

Again, for those of you who know me and my family, I am sure you would agree that my siblings have in fact learned what they live. Anybody who stays in our house for longer than an hour will see testament to this: the way my mother and step father talk to one another is the same way in which my brother and sister speak to one another. In fact, I listened to my mother yell at the kids last night and then slam her bedroom door, only to hear my sister then yell at my brother and slam her bedroom door. Like mother like daughter.

However, what sticks out to me the most in this poem are the lines regarding rules. Growing up I had many rules, such as rules regarding chores and homework which had to be done by a certain time, rules regarding time limits on the phone and watching television, and rules regarding my grades. If these rules were broken I was punished, usually by being ground from everything, and yes I mean everything. I learned that rules are necessary in the way of life and learned respect for them, and for others.

Clearly, my siblings have not had this same experience. And I say this because I watch it. Progress reports were issued last week and my brother’s was terrible—grades I, myself, have never received. Appalled by these grades, I set back and was ready to watch the terror unfold. Sadly, I was greatly disappointed. There was the stern lecture, or yelling as we do in my house, and the usual new polices placed to be sure homework gets done, but that was it. The Monday after they were issued (note, Monday is a school night), my brother was out until 9:00 at a football game—no he does not play. Every day I have come home and he has either been at a friend’s house or watching television…not doing homework or sulking in his room because he is grounded.

This made me think back to all the other rules and how they don’t seem to apply to him, and he knows this. This is actually why his grades are poor, because he doesn’t care and doesn’t want to…and he gets away with it. So what has he learned, that he can get away with anything, rules don’t apply to him, and a complete disrespect for other people’s belongings.

And people wonder why I can’t wait to leave my house and why I don’t want kids. Stay a week at my place, you’ll understand.

A Necessary Evil

A Necessary Evil. This statement has been said about practically everything from religion to politics to technology. Lately I find myself using this term in the technological sense in regards to the internet. My patience for the internet has lapsed and I often wish to just unplug. While I have become rather successful at unplugging during certain hours, I have not been able to unplug as much as I would like to.

Between ten hours at the office where email and Google are both vital sources of information and my three online course I am taking, I have a rather difficult time of limiting my internet use, even though I want to. However, to make up for the necessary time I have to spend on the internet for work and college purposes, I have dwindled my facebook account and still wish to deactivate completely, as well clean up some of my feeds. This allows me to limit my recreational use, which has freed up more time for studying and spending me time.

Our generation has fallen into a culture of technology. We would rather spend more time with virtual “friends” then going out and having face to face interactions. We would rather sit and read facebook and feeds for an hour then conversing with our loved ones. The internet may not be clinically addictive, but it is reinforcing, thus conditioning us to constantly get online and check facebook, our email, twitter, etc. It’s out of control.

The Key Difference

Last week my father had a seizure and his heart stopped. Luckily for us, a good friend of ours is employed as an EMT and was able to revive my father and stay with him until the rescue squad arrived. They transported him to a small, local hospital. He arrived at the hospital somewhere between 6:30 and 7:00 pm; I arrived at the hospital between 10:00 and 10:30 pm. Again, my father had a seizure and his heart stopped…they are classifying it as a mild heart attack. By 2:00 am we had been released from the hospital and went home with my father.

Over the weekend my baby brother flipped his four wheeler and was med flighted to the local trauma hospital. Upon arrival there and upon multiple tests the doctors were not able to find anything wrong, thankfully. There were no broken bones or ribs, no internal bleeding, no trauma; just some terrible road rash, bumps, bruises, and bangs. Within hours he was back to his goofy self, including using his breathing monitor to make mountains and cowboy hats. He arrived at the hospital between 3:00 and 3:30 pm; I arrived at the hospital between 4:00 and 4:30 pm. Again, there was nothing wrong with my brother besides being a little beat up. By 10:30 pm I was heading home while my mother settled in to stay the night. My brother was released about 12:30 pm the next day.

What was the difference between these two visits to the hospital, besides severity and age? Insurance. My family has pretty decent health insurance and therefore my little brother was covered by Insurance. My father, on the other hand, has been unemployed since January of this year and is uninsured.

Now, the hospital could have just been that poor quality (I would not doubt it); however, what type of hospital sends a man home whose heart has stopped beating within twelve hours of the incident, especially when the patient is still complaining of chest pains and is clearly unwell? There is something clearly wrong with our system here…

Random thoughts explode

Sometimes, events happen in life, however major or minor, and thoughts rummage around in our head for weeks and weeks. These thoughts run around, searching for a release; however, in the meantime, more events happen and the thoughts become louder. This is my attempt to let these thoughts out, after weeks to months of them running loose….

What makes a number?? What property have us humans applied to these meaningless symbols that a certain number will elicit a certain response. These are arbitrary items, with no meaning what so ever, besides what we attribute to them.

This applies to all numbers: age, weight, money, etc… What is about reading a blood pressure machine can make one call the doctor, or a scale make one cry, or an age make death appropriate? Even more so, what makes money what it is? All of it is meaningless, these numbers mean absolutely nothing.

The best example I can give comes from an ordinary textbook for Statistics. If one takes a test and receives a score of 60, that score means absolutely nothing as it is. We cannot attribute anything to that number without more information; it is simply a number that somebody made up. Until we know what the other scores were and the grading scale, the number is simply meaningless.

Yet, the world worships numbers and the arbitrary meanings humans have applied to them. I don’t understand.

September 5th...

Four years ago I received a frantic phone call from my best friend; the unimaginable had happened. It was the beginning of her freshman year at college, and sadly her father had passed away. The date was September 5th. After that frantic phone call, a roller coaster of emotion went through me; I immediately went into action mode. Things calmed down, time has passed, and wounds are still healing.

Flash forward four years and I received another frantic phone call; this time, from my dad’s best friend. Again, the unimaginable has happened, the date was September 5th. The phone call I received this year was slightly different—it was my father having a heart attack and seizure, and he survived…so far. Again, a roller coaster of emotion went through me and I went into action mode.

As many of you know, the relationship between my father and me is not always stable. Until this past weekend, we had not spoken since April. However, even with those emotions and distance, I still jumped in my car and drove the three hours to be by his side in the hospital awaiting answers. Unfortunately, we were in a rinky-dink hospital and we still have no answers. My father has been released and his staying with his dad until he feels better, daily updates have been established.

Now that things have calmed down a bit and I’ve had some time to reflect on the events and the relationship, it saddens me to say that I do not think this is a life altering experience. I am afraid to say that after a few weeks and the scare has all died away; my father and I will drift back into our separate lives; only speaking at holidays and in emergencies. Still, even knowing this and having the strained relationship, I will go running every time.

Yes, there are things fundamentally different about my father and I; there are experiences in the past that cannot be overcome; there is distance that is too deep; but in the end he is my father and I am the only family he has left. I have often wondered why I continue to hang on and give out chances the way I do, even though I know nothing will change. My expectations are no longer what they once were; I am aware that this is how the story goes and honestly, I have accepted it and embraced it. But yet, I still go to his side…and I’ve found because my story has ended radically different than my best friend.

And that’s a key difference. I have lived watching her pain and her regret and it kills me to know I cannot do anything about it. So, for her and for him, I will always go to his side. Even though he doesn’t come running for me, I am a better person then him…

The First Hangover

The transition to eliminating caffeine from my life has been a relatively simple one. I’ve had the withdraw headaches and fatigue, but as far as deep cravings and longings, those were absent. Then, I woke up with my first hangover. The urge for a cold coke and greasy food is never as strong as it is after a night of drinking. Add to that mix the denial of caffeine and the urge for that coke grows even stronger.

I survived. I fed my urge for greasy food with the usual choice of Mexican and replaced the coke with Sprite. It was not the same; however, it fixed the hangover. Later in the day I happened to pass by the Starbucks located in my target and the smell was overpowering, along with the sign announcing the Pumpkin Spice Latte had returned. I wanted to cry.

I have held strong however, I have had zero caffeinated beverages and zero medications that include caffeine. I have; however, had some chocolate, but nothing strong enough to offset the physiological withdrawals I am experiencing. Week two is just beginning.

Magical Dream...

I’m traveling, on a mission to get something from somebody’s house. I cannot recall what I was getting, but it was important and for my family. The location it is at happens to be an ex babysitter and my step dad’s ex best friend. Surprisingly when I walk in, they are happy to see me and want to exchange pleasantries. Even more surprisingly, the man lying on the couch, whom I thought was sleeping, is my best friend’s deceased father…his eyes open wide and he glares at me in a very frightening way. Scared, I run out of the house.

Instead of running home with the item, I seem to run to Disney World. As it appears, I was scheduled a vacation there and just showed up a few days early. I made the necessary calls and informed my Aunt and Uncle that I was already here and would see them when they arrived.

There comes a knock on my suite door, bewildered, I go look through the peep hole. Surprised, I open the door to find my family—mom, step dad, sister, and brother, all standing there with their bags, and mine. Luckily for me, I start packing early. They decided they had never been and thought they would surprise me by showing up, and bringing me my stuff…wasn’t that nice.

A few days later my Aunt and Uncle arrive and I gladly move into our original suite and let my family have the one I was in. Once the confusion and awkwardness passes, everybody seems to have a good time and really embraced the magic. A day at Magic Kingdom brings us closer as we hijack a tour bus and head towards Frontier Ville ….

Then the alarm awakens me. Strange. It wasn’t the second Harry Potter movie redirected Tim Burton style, but still strange…

Caffeine Day 1

I have successfully made it through one full day without any caffeine. I started my change project yesterday, with successful results. Today has been a little more difficult.

I arrived at the office and started to make the daily pot of coffee. With the exception of cold, rainy, or very tiresome mornings, I usually don’t bother drinking coffee. A cold bottle of water does the trick for me. This morning; however, as my caffeine deprived brain smelt the coffee I had a very small, subtle urge. This was not a strong urge, or anything that didn’t quickly pass…a mere reaction to scent.

I grabbed my water and went about my day, no big deal. At break time, my step dad arrived with breakfast from Hardees and sweet tea. He apologized and said he had forgotten I couldn’t drink it until my little brother reminded him; whether that is true or not, I don’t know. So there sat this beautiful cup of cold sweet tea just starring me down. I revisited and grabbed a cold Sprite. Not a huge deal, just annoying.

Not long after that, the headache kicked in. I’ve had caffeine induced headaches before, but damn is this one rough. The usual response would be to drink or eat something with some caffeine to subside the pain; however, that’s not really an option. The next response would be to take some headache medicine, most of which I am allergic to. I also have this personal notion of not taking medication and putting unnecessary chemicals in my body unless I absolutely have to; this is especially true for headaches (there is always a holistic answer). We shall see how long I last…

It’s only day one; I can’t wait to see what’s in store for tomorrow.

Long Semester Ahead

The school semester has officially started; fall 2010 marks my second semester in graduate school. Upon review of the four graduate classes I am taking this semester, the anxiety and fear rise. The initial thoughts of “is four too many? Am I sure I can do this? What was I thinking?” all fly through my mind; however, I have faith.

This semester I am taking a class on Substance Abuse and have already been assigned a semester long project. Our project is to give up one thing, or habit, which we are “addicted to” or would like to change. The purpose of this is to help us experience the troubles with giving up addictions and make us more empathic to those facing that battle.

My instinctual reaction was to give up caffeine; then, I realized how difficult that would be. I tried to think of something else, but I just felt as if that was cheating. Choosing a simple task isn’t fair and will not suffice for the lesson, so I have decided to stick with my choice to give up caffeine for the semester.

Today marks the first day of my project, even though we do not have to start until next week. I am already saddened that throughout the fall and winter months I will not be enjoying Starbucks yummy array of flavors. I have; however, decided that when those winter days call for coffee, I will treat myself to a decaf cup with flavored creamer. Not the same, but the best I can do, until the semester has started.

The biggest battle, however, will not be coffee but tea. My family consumes at least a pitcher of sweat tea a day, sometimes two. I feel it is important to also note that my family is more than caffeine addicted; it pumps through their veins. I naturally told them about the project and asked if they would be interested in partaking in it with me; I was faced with laughter and jokes. I am going to try to possibly forgo tea altogether; however, I know this will beyond difficult, so I will be investing in decaffeinated tea.

Sodas are not much of a struggle for me, as I am not a huge consumer. Luckily, there is sprite, which I am a fan of. Wish me luck as partake a very busy and stressful semester without caffeine.

A Much Needed Rant...

Of the year and a half I have known you; you have done nothing but wreck havoc on every single life you come in contact with. Just like Joshua when he took the Promised Land, you leave no survivors.

I have personally watched you destroy your oldest son and am currently watch you do the same to your youngest son, without remorse. I have been personally accepted into your family and have had the pleasure of watching their thought, opinions, and emotions about you surface. I have felt their warm embrace while you sit out in the cold—more so by your own accord.

I have watched you destroy every relationship you have ever had, whether it be sexual, familiar, or platonic. You spend your life thriving on negativity and drama…when there is none, you create it. You life in a world full of hatred and you never seem satisfied until the world has been drug down into your miserable hole, without a chance to climb out. And sadly, you were doing a pretty good job.

You didn’t expect the one thing negativity and hatred can’t destroy: love. You didn’t expect it because you’ve never experienced, not even for those made from your flesh and blood. At one point I would claim you were selfish and only love yourself; I’m not even sure I can attest to that anymore; which would explain the shear impossibility of others to love you.

However, love is what has saved your children, and has ultimately taken them away from you. Your mission would have succeed, except they had that one taste of addiction, and they followed it. A clear understanding of how healthy relationships should be left you alone, holed up in your room with your Oreos and trashy romance novels.

I write this because for a year and a half I bit my tongue. I stood there in your “house” and watched your entire being drip with hatred; I saw it, I felt it, I tasted it. At first, I didn’t respond because I thought your reaction was natural, I was taking your son away from you. Then I realized t was pure hatred and jealousy and had nothing to do with your son.

A real mother loves their children, through thick and thin. I know my mom is not the best, but she has always come running whenever there was a problem—I could go to her for anything and everything. A real mother does not abandon her children, whether it is for “finding oneself” or whatever penis you happen to have in front of you at the time. A real mother does not create a life of turmoil and fear for her children and she does not hit them.

Alas, it’s clear you’re not a real mother. But worse than that, you’re not even a real person. You have pushed me farther than anybody, even my own father. At least he knows when he is wrong and can admit his problems.

A burst of inspiration....

I life a different life here then the world you’re living in
I’ve experienced love and devotion, peace and happiness
I watch you flutter around, trying desperately
Yet all you experience is hurt and hopelessness

I stood by waiting, year after year
Hoping you’d wake up and see the light
My patience is worn and my heart broken
I’ve moved to left, you chose to stay right.

I pushed my heart and soul to the limit
Seeking your love and approval
In return I received broken dreams,
Empty promises and your removal

My life is shinning brighter,
Like the golden rising sun
I’ve risen above and beyond
Despite all that you have done.

A slow comeback

Come through the door
Same story, different day
Screaming, yelling, and stomping
There has to be a better way

Do this and do that
Go the store, come right back.
Don’t forget the laundry
Everything they lack.

And let’s not forget to
Cook dinner and pay the bills
Well let me tell you
I’ve had my fill

I’m done bailing you out
Step up to the plate
Take responsibility, trust me
The rewards will be great

I won’t always be here
Soon you will see
I’ll be off dancing far away
Maybe by the sea

I’ve realized what I’m worth
Hopefully you will too
And then you can take of
All the things I do

Until then, beware
Every move pushes me harder
The day is drawing near
And you’ll miss your daughter.

Old Loves

Memories, whether pleasant or not, can send one back in time. Five years ago, I was a senior in high school, ready to take on the world. I had the best friends a girl get ask for, and I was head over heels in love. As graduation approached, I prepared myself to say goodbye my first introduction to love, and vowed to move across the country. My, how five years can change one’s perspective.

A few weeks back, I found my “memory box” with the items I had chose to keep from my high school years, and naturally I dived into the world of memories and dreams. When I awoke, I was confronted with the dissonance between the world and dreams of my past and the world and dreams of my present and future.

Throughout life, things change, people change. One loses friends and loves, and one makes new friends and loves; throughout that process, things get lost along the way, sometimes pieces of who you are get lost along the way. Throughout my re-introduction to writing, I am noticing the pieces of myself that have gotten lost within the past few years; however, I am also noticing the new pieces of myself that I have built. Now I am faced with the challenge of integrating the pieces I wish to keep from my past into the new Tiffany that has formed in the absence.

Luckily for me, most of this hasn’t been but so hard. The once vibrant, creative, fun loving girl I knew fits very easily into the intelligent, active, peace loving woman I am now. The writing has been slightly more difficult to integrate, in the sense that poems and songs no longer flow like they once did. A quick reflection shows that the majority of my songs from the past were filled with pain, longing, and heartbreak.

While I still feel pain, longing, and heartbreak, it is no longer in the sense of romantic love—that aspect of my life could not be better. The loss of many close friends, and even family has contributed to the pain in my life; however, I seem to lack the ability to commit those words neatly into a few lines.

Speaking of losing close friends, upon my dive into the memories enclosed in one large box, I discovered not only writings of songs I had written and co-written in the past, I also found a very beat up, poor quality CD of my once best friend singing them (she wrote many of them, we wrote a few together). I was luckily enough to hear a few of the track before the CD “died” and really transport myself to the past. Since that night, I have dabbled with one new poem, possibly a transition into a song. Wish me luck, and stay tuned for the finished product ;-)

Stereotypes....

What I’ve learned from Hopewell, Virginia
(the ghetto)


1. Cadillac Escalades also come in Gold…having a Cadillac isn’t good enough, it has to be gold.
2. It doesn’t matter what your car looks like, as long as you have killer rims on it.
3. Sirens are a common occurrence, no need to be alarmed.
4. Fire alarms like to routinely spasm as well, usually weekly.
5. Chemical plants are the norm…don’t worry about the environment or an explosion. It’s totally safe to be across the street.
6. “No Turn on Red” signs do not apply here.
7. Cops pull you for “failure to use turn signal,” when in fact it had been on.
8. Calling an order ahead thirty minutes does not mean it will be ready when you get there; in fact, you might want to try an hour.
9. Street signs do not need to be clearly marked.
10. What!? That!? Oh, that stench is just Hopewell, you get used to it.



What I’ve learned from Salisbury, Virginia (the country club)

1. Water restrictions do not matter, my yard must be green.
2. The appearance of my yard (length and color) is a status symbol. Needs to be cut every week.
3. Country club memberships are in high demand…
4. …And the club must be visited regularly, if not daily.
5. Community is a big deal…you better be a member of a church…
6. …And the Republican Party.
7. All cars must be of German make...
8. …exceptions for sporty, expensive makes.
9. Cigars and Whiskey are weekly, if not nightly occurrences.
10. Stereotypes are formed for a reason…

What Is Love?

In a world filled with hate and loneliness, some wonder if such a thing as love truly exists. As a child I watched marriages and relationships deteriorate, constantly. My parents were divorced early on, so I grew up in a world of failed love, from the very beginning. In this time I watched my mom have a few relationships, almost marry and move to Illinois, and get her heart broken. I also watched my father go through a few relationships and marry again. To add more failed love, I watched my uncle (who was living with my grandparents) do the same thing. To young eyes, this was confusing, I was unsure about love.

During the constant witnessing of failed love, I did have one, one singular image of love—my grandparents. Watching the two them gave me hope as I grew older, I had witnessed one relationship last and had seen love first hand…it was enough for me to believe it existed. I was so grounded in my belief of love and that two people could meet and always be together.
Unfortunately, I reached an age where I realized that even those two had not always been together and had both been previously married. At this point I realized that I did not know a single person that had married and always been with that person. Marriage was ruined for me.

I grew up with the thought of love and marriage as a pointless institution…it didn’t work, it was a failure. Jaded and confused, I continued with my life. Sadly, during this time, I watched my father get divorced again and begin dating a new girl, again. This only solidified my feelings.

In high school I had some great friends, some which agreed with me and some which did not. However, in high school, I met a boy. This boy turned my world upside down and gave me some hope; maybe love and marriage could work. He mentioned it senior year, we discussed it, and I made plans to move to be with him. He had instilled enough hope and illusion in me that I believed it was possible. Like most high school love stories, this one also failed…and again my hope was destroyed.

Fast forward a few more years and I again watch my dad get divorced, for a third time, and dating a new girl…going down the exact same road. At this point, I have found a wonderful guy who has not only made the sun shine a little bit brighter but installed not only the hope of marriage but also the desire. I accepted that my dad’s continuous failure could not be blamed on anything but him, and stopped applying his life as examples to mine.

And with that, I fell even father into love and gave up my inhibitions. With each passing day I am surprised at how one can feel about somebody and one simple look can change the entire world. I know understand what my grandparents have and the simple way my grandmothers eyes will light up when my grandfather walks into the room—he is her brightly shining sun and he brightens her world. I too, have a brightly shining sun and I’m willing to take the risk on a once thought to be a failed institution.

Stay tuned for updates on the process….

The Sun Shines Brightly

A life revolved around anger, hostility, negativity, and fear is not much of a life. One wakes up every morning essentially cranky and unsure of what the day will hold. Before the first cup of coffee a million thoughts of what currently is “going wrong” and what could go wrong has surfaced and grabbed a hold of the brain. From this point on the entire outlook on the day is shot, everything said or heard has a negative undertone and nothing is good enough.

I live and work with two of these people, and mini drama queen. Every morning I descend the stairs to leave for work and I see my mom, leaning grumpily against the counter, smoking a cigarette and staring at the kitchen table like it killed her first born. A few seconds later, my step father joins us, usually by picking up the chair and slamming it back a few inches; god forbid something is on it, that gets thrown on the stairs for the rest of us to trip over. Conversation is next to non-existent with the exceptional, “Alright, see ya this afternoon,” as my dad heads out the door. Five forty five in the morning and the negativity and hostility is thick.

Upon arriving at work, I’m again faced with my step father, where he has had an hour drive to again think about what is currently “going wrong” and what could go wrong. About an hour goes by before he comes in with his expectations of mind reading and all knowing. And of course, I disappoint him, daily, and his mood and negative outlook worsens. As the day progresses more things go wrong (self-fulfilling prophecy) and the mood continues to deteriorate.

By the time we arrive back home, my mother has had the same type of day, and the fights begin. Some are between my mom and dad, simply because a question was asked that should have already been known (obviously, we are mind readers after all) while others are between my parents and siblings, while other are between my siblings, of course.

Where am I at during this? I’m hiding out in my room, either reading or practicing yoga. Yoga is my escape from the day to day negative world I live in…that, and being disillusioned. A world of nothing but negativity, simply for the sake of it, wrecks havoc on one’s mental and physical being…it wears you down. This is especially so when you try to rid your life of such negativity and brighten your world a little bit.

It is very easy to be oblivious to the effects of negativity on one’s being; being wrapped up in it takes too much to notice anything else. However, once you make the vow to rid your life of such negativity and force the sun to shine a little bit brighter, you not only begin to recognize negativity in and around your life but you also begin to notice the wear it produces. Prior to my awakening, I was unaware of my own negative lifestyle, and that of my parents; however, now I am seeing and feeling the impacts of negativity and hostility in life.

Naturally, I searched for a way to cope and release these impacts and found a few healthy ways. With my new brighter sun shining, I’ve taken a stance to point out useless negativity to my family and offer suggestions…like more love and laughter. As one can imagine, these have not blown over very well. The mention that we need more love and laughter gets laughed at, and anytime I point out that something is pointless and they are too negative, I am accused of getting psychological on them.

Recently, the negativity in my household as reached a very high threshold. In response, I have sadly given up hope on bringing any light of positivity to my family and have returned to maintaining my sanity and keeping my sun shining brightly.

Family...

I have the tendency to blissfully forget my place in the world, and sadly I am being reminded of it. A child of divorce, family was always a different concept to me. While most people had one family, I was blessed with two. As a child this was great, double the celebrations, double the presents. As I grew older, I realized that having two families is double the problems, not double the fun.

The problem with two families is the lack of acceptance as a full bodied family member. For example, my mother remarried and had two children. Since I have lived the majority of my life with my mother and that family, I tend to consider myself a member of said family; however, I am realizing that only my mother and I do (sometimes my sister). Could that be because she was the one who always knew we were a package? In that family, I am an extra…I ruin the makeup of the happy couple, one boy, one girl, and a dog. I throw a kink into what American society says should happen.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always been afforded the luxuries of living there and participating in the family, but as the real children grow older, I am being pushed farther and farther away. The little prince doesn’t have cable TV and I give up mine to appease him. The little princess’s room is now too small—a room bigger than the one I had at her age, with the exact same furniture and more stuff, worked fine for me—and I am supposed to consider switching with her? Ah, I see…they are family members; I’m just the tag-a-long.

What about the second family? That side gets a little more complicated. That family broke up…formed a new one…and broke up again. That family now consists of my father…refer to earlier post.

Not accepted by my father, nor by my family, I’m left to wander and feel unwelcomed in my own home. I now understand why they put me in counseling for divorced children…too bad I was eight and did not comprehend.

Strings to my Heart

The idea of freedom is often taken for granted, especially by those whom claim American as their nationality. Under the dictionary, one can find many definitions regarding the word “freedom;” however, I venture to say that not many have truly experienced the essence of being “free.”

I had the pleasure of experiencing freedom this past weekend and I am afraid my soul will not rest until it is experienced again. All my life my heart has longed for the sea, and the sand. I have always felt at home and at peace lying in the sand as I listened to the waves crash upon the shore. The coastline was always my home, my place of Zen. Luckily for my heart, I had the pleasure of returning home this past weekend, where my heart was then introduced to pure freedom:

Sailing.

The sun beating down as you slowly drift through the water, with only the sounds of the waves is beyond anything ever imaginable. No power, no noise, very little control…pure bliss. I cannot recall a time I have felt more alive, more peaceful, or freer. The coast calls to me and my heart aches for it.


I was born a son of the sea
I can’t be still, I can’t be tied.
The only time I feel alive is
When the wind fills my sail
Riding on a lifelong swell
Let my heart take me where it wants to go
That’s the soul of a sailor

What Dreams Are Made Of

I’m standing in a brightly lit basement, looking at my hair in the mirror. Angie runs up to me, about to cry, and just points at the dress she is wearing. The beautiful coral sundress has a huge red mark across it, apparently from lipstick. As I stare blankly at the stain, Angie continues to well up and apologize profusely, “I’m so sorry, what can we do?”

“Don’t panic. I bought an extra incase one of you got a stain on it before pictures. Here,” I say as I hand her a brand new coral sundress. “Be careful.

I return to making sure my hair is perfect and checking the clock, hoping everything goes well.

About that time, Angie comes running back up, with a matching stain on this coral sundress. A quick glance at the clock informs me that we do not have time to wash either one of the dresses before we are due to be on. Fuck. I tell Angie to go fill the big basin sink with hot water and pour some washing detergent in there and let them sit for the time being. Panic is beginning to set in.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t want to ruin your pictures,” Angie exclaims.

“Pictures… Holy shit, I never hired a photographer!” True panic and tears begin rushing. A quick dash to my phone and outside to the guests, finds an old friend from high school who specializes in photography. After beginning and offering to pay double, she agrees to do my pictures at the last minute. A return to the basement finds me face to face with my mother, and other people.

I first look to Amanda to confirm that Adam has in fact arrived and that is one less thing to worry about.

Now back to the dresses. Amanda, bless her, was able to find some stain remover and quickly went to work, while I tried to scramble to get ready in the next 10 minutes…we were already running late.


Luckily, my alarm saved me from finding out if I ever made it to my wedding with stain free bridesmaid dresses. I’m not even engaged and I’m already having wedding nightmares. Help me.

Fathers, be good to your daughters

At what point does one give up and stop giving out chances? How many times must one be let down and hurt before it is acceptable to move on with one’s life?

I have spent my entire life being let down and pushed around by my father, yet I always went back for more. No matter how many performances and birthdays he missed, I still went running to him. He was my dad and I was daddy’s little girl.

The older I got, the more absent it became. It was easy to forgive his disappearances as a child, but as an adult, I find it harder to let each disappointment slide. I’ve watched many close friends (and family members) give up on their loved ones and write them out of their lives; I was never strong enough to do the same. I didn’t want to do the same; I wanted to prove the world wrong and prove that strained relationships can heal. I watched my best friend of seventeen years lose her father without really having a relationship with him and that’s when I really started to try to make it work, for my sake, for her sake.

Unfortunately, the effort was one-sided. With each push I asserted, my father seemed to slide farther and farther away from me and closer and closer to his fiancé and her children. It got to the point that I only saw him at Christmas, my birthday, and during the summers at the lake (where I could be his drinking partner).

Fast forward a few years and nothing has changed. I have not seen my father or had a conversation with him in four months. The only communication we have had has been short “one-liners” initiated by me. I have not even been invited to the lake house once this summer. There is a new woman and child in his life and I don’t suppose I will be hearing from him until this one decides to up and leave for Oregon, again. I suppose he will lie about that again.

As one can tell, I am quite used to this treatment; it is a natural progression in the life of Tiffany. But this time, I am beyond tired of it. I have recently watched my boyfriend rid his life of a toxic parent and watched the marvelous transformation take place. It is time for my transformation into a beautiful butterfly.

I Write Like....

I write like
Stephen King

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

When It Rains, It Pours

I am not one to focus on negativity. In fact, I have made it my personal motto to let negativity go, breathe, and focus on the positive. Negativity only brings one down and there is so much love and good in the world…the important things we should focus on. I know it’s hot outside, but focus that we have sunshine.

However, this week has been the definition of “when it rains, it pours,” and even my own motto and yoga practice has not been enough to release. A quick look at my twitter updates (johnsontd3) will show that this week has been long and full of pointlessness. My parents, for whatever reason have not been speaking to one another since Sunday morning. I am not aware of the reasons why, nor have I bothered to ask— they are attention whores and if they wished me to know, they would gladly tell me. I discovered this Sunday night into Monday morning and brushed off.

I was later introduced to severity of the situation when my step dad came to me and questioned as to whether or not I heard from my mom regarding the status of my little brother (his son)’s health. To make a long story short, the status of his health is that he is now in the hospital, for the 2^nd day. This, of course, has opened the lines of communication; however, it is limited to the condition of their son and the proper course of action. Apparently my parents are beyond immature.

After spending the day in the hospital with my baby brother, I had high hopes that he may be coming home soon and the situation was improving. His fever had broken, the infection was leaking out, and he reported no pain…time to go home! My mother, however, has a different view—she believes we will be having surgery. Great. I gladly left the hospital and welcomed the sun shine (see previous post) with a cloud over my head wondering how much longer my brother would be there and contemplating the complications of the surgery.

Fast forward about three hours and I am trying to get some sleep to make up for the lack of during the previous days of the week. About the time I am drifting off, my step father calls me downstairs to inform me that our puppy dog seems to have gotten out and run away during the three hours since I had returned home. After spending the remaining thirty minutes of light with no success, we all returned home with another strike against us.

So my baby brother is in the hospital, my dog has run away, and my parents can’t grow up enough to be adults and handle these situations and move past the petty problems they are facing. Plus, I haven’t been able to win a game of Free Cell in the past hour.

A day at the Hospital

After spending the entire day on the pediatrics floor in the hospital, I have discovered that even the most boring day at the office is better than that place.

Not only is it boring sitting there with the little brother, but it is also beyond gloomy. We are in the last room on the hallway, away from most of the interaction; however, conveniently close to the exit. I was there for a six to seven hours, and only saw the same person, and it wasn’t the doctor. The rainforest theme, I believe is supposed to brighten the pediatric ward up some; however, I believe that real windows with sunshine would do a much better job. When I went to pull the shades on the window, I discovered it was a fake---there was a boxed in wall around the “window.” No people interaction, no sunshine.

The game room, however, did have plenty of sunshine, and games. My brother decided to stick to the Wii and sadly, he beat me in almost every game. Upon return from the game room, we were pleased to find lunch delivered shortly. Or at least the little brother was. Apparently they feed the kids better than the adults.

Besides the lack of social contact, sunshine, and edible food, I guess it wasn’t but so bad. The little brother is doing much better and may be home by the weekend :-)

Working with the Male Species

When one works with all males, one notices certain tendencies and changes. One also begins to change herself, and adapt to the ways of the male species. For example, prior to my employment with all males, I was never one to constantly check the toilet paper roll. However, the male species has a habit of not only leaving the roll empty but of also using all of said toilet paper and forgetting to inform somebody to buy more. I would be lying if I said that my eyes do not go immediately to the toilet paper roll upon entering the bathroom…no matter which bathroom or where. This also applies to other bathroom products, such as hand soap and paper towels. Thank you men for making me hyper aware of supplies.
Not only do mean seem to be neglectful when it comes to bathroom supplies, but they are rather neglectful when it comes to the refrigerator. Every morning I watch my dad search through the kitchen and dishwasher in search of a coffee cup…and every morning I have to remind him that he left it sitting on his desk at the office. And every week, I come home with a bag full of empty coffee cups and he seems to always be surprised. And then, I open the refrigerator. For an example, I came home yesterday with a bag of used Tupperware containers that had been left at the office. As I am cleaning them and placing them in the dishwasher, my sister notices one of them and in horror, asks “When did we have spaghetti? Is that the one from three weeks ago!?” Alas, she was correct.
Working with a crew of all men has definitely been a learning experience—from being included in the lunch time “conversations” to understanding [or trying to] why they do the things they do. Forgetfulness seems to be a trademark in the male species…possibly because they have to many other “important” things on their mind?




NOTE:
I enjoy working with the men, and I enjoy my men friends, especially my love. This is not meant to be offensive or to bash men.