Wow... took me forever to get to this last day. I think I did pretty good up until now.
During the last post where I shared "a moment" I talked about how I sometimes feel on the "outside" of things. As if I'm window shopping through life.
One upside to feeling that way, though, is that even when I'm in a situation that's not all the way right -- not all the way a good fit -- I can usually power through it and get to the other side because that feeling isn't all that different from what I frequently feel.
The other upside is that I also am SO aware when I don't feel that way. When I feel like I'm right where I'm supposed to be doing what I'm supposed to be doing with the person/people I'm supposed to be doing it with.
Recently I was sitting in my class on Developmental Theory and my professor was talking about a particular theory that really resonated with me. It made total sense and really was something that I'd long thought to be true about the way humans grow and develop. In the same week, I was in my pre-practicum class and something we were learning again deeply resonated with me and I thought, "I am exactly where I'm supposed to be..."
In these last few weeks, it's been confirmed for me that I'm doing this with the people I'm supposed to be doing it with, as well. I really am beginning to truly love and cherish my cohort and I imagine that I'm making some lifelong friends right now.
Anyway, the moment that I realized I am supposed to be a counselor, this is making the best use of my strengths and abilities and I'm even doing it in the right place was a special moment for me. As I'm sitting here typing this to take a break from studying for what will undoubtedly be the most stressful exam I've ever taken, it's reassuring to think that at least I'm on the right path.
Showing posts with label 30 Day Blog Challenge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 30 Day Blog Challenge. Show all posts
12.12.2010
12.09.2010
My Aspirations
I was just thinking about this earlier today (okay, earlier yesterday...) without knowing I'd be doing a blog post on it.
I've never really been one of those people with long-term plans. My mom always asks "where do you see yourself in 5 years?" I hated that question 5 years ago, and I hate it now. Maybe it's because I feel like I should, but don't have an answer. Or maybe it's because I don't have an answer and I don't like feeling judged for that. She always tells me that if I don't have a plan, I'm destined to fail, and we know I'm afraid of failure, right?
I'm open to things happening as they do. It's how I've been exposed to so many different things and been able to meet so many different people. Some of the best things that have ever happened to me, happened because I somehow ended up in the right place at the right time and was open to the opportunity.
Now, is that to say that if I had a 5 year plan I couldn't still be open to that stuff? Nope, but it sure doesn't inspire me to get out there and come up with a plan.
Now don't get me wrong, I have dreams and goals. We've talked about all that stuff. But my aspirations? Where I see myself in 5, 10, 15 years? That's a whole other ball game that I haven't exactly suited up to play. I don't know, maybe I have commitment issues or maybe I"m just flat out lazy. In this "grinding" society we live in these days, where people spend more time talking about how much they hustle and grind than actually hustling and grinding, it's easy to feel like you're not about anything if you're not "grinding." I'm here to tell you, it's just not true. I've done more in my 23-soon-to-be-24 years than a lot of people twice my age who claim they've been grinding since before they were born! Of course, I don't mean to diminish any accomplishments of anyone -- I think we see right here in the blogosphere what grinding can mean. Several bloggers went from no-names to having red carpet events doubling as their birthday parties and bringing out big name stars. If you want it, get after it... and yet, for as much as I'm behind all that, it just doesn't translate well into my world
I actually prefer to frame it as just being wide-eyed and fancy free. In Christianity, it's a big freaking deal to be doing God's will. To be in tune with his plan for your life. Doesn't mean you know what the ultimate plan is, but it means that when God says move, you jump to it. That's actually not all that easy to do, but sometimes I wonder if maybe all that grinding and hustling just ain't necessary all the time, if'n you're on the path you're supposed to be on. Not that there won't be challenges and mountains and walls and all types of things but maybe those stumbling blocks just appear instead of you having to go after them. Maybe I lost you in this one...
In any case, where do I see myself in 5 years? I don't know. Making a difference somewhere, I hope. Hell, I could be married by then with 2 kids (let me erase that... I can't be speaking stuff into existence all willy nilly like 'at)... But I do know that where I am right this minute is exactly where I'm supposed to be and so that gives me a good feeling for where I'll be in 5, 10, 15 years from now...
I've never really been one of those people with long-term plans. My mom always asks "where do you see yourself in 5 years?" I hated that question 5 years ago, and I hate it now. Maybe it's because I feel like I should, but don't have an answer. Or maybe it's because I don't have an answer and I don't like feeling judged for that. She always tells me that if I don't have a plan, I'm destined to fail, and we know I'm afraid of failure, right?
I'm open to things happening as they do. It's how I've been exposed to so many different things and been able to meet so many different people. Some of the best things that have ever happened to me, happened because I somehow ended up in the right place at the right time and was open to the opportunity.
Now, is that to say that if I had a 5 year plan I couldn't still be open to that stuff? Nope, but it sure doesn't inspire me to get out there and come up with a plan.
Now don't get me wrong, I have dreams and goals. We've talked about all that stuff. But my aspirations? Where I see myself in 5, 10, 15 years? That's a whole other ball game that I haven't exactly suited up to play. I don't know, maybe I have commitment issues or maybe I"m just flat out lazy. In this "grinding" society we live in these days, where people spend more time talking about how much they hustle and grind than actually hustling and grinding, it's easy to feel like you're not about anything if you're not "grinding." I'm here to tell you, it's just not true. I've done more in my 23-soon-to-be-24 years than a lot of people twice my age who claim they've been grinding since before they were born! Of course, I don't mean to diminish any accomplishments of anyone -- I think we see right here in the blogosphere what grinding can mean. Several bloggers went from no-names to having red carpet events doubling as their birthday parties and bringing out big name stars. If you want it, get after it... and yet, for as much as I'm behind all that, it just doesn't translate well into my world
I actually prefer to frame it as just being wide-eyed and fancy free. In Christianity, it's a big freaking deal to be doing God's will. To be in tune with his plan for your life. Doesn't mean you know what the ultimate plan is, but it means that when God says move, you jump to it. That's actually not all that easy to do, but sometimes I wonder if maybe all that grinding and hustling just ain't necessary all the time, if'n you're on the path you're supposed to be on. Not that there won't be challenges and mountains and walls and all types of things but maybe those stumbling blocks just appear instead of you having to go after them. Maybe I lost you in this one...
In any case, where do I see myself in 5 years? I don't know. Making a difference somewhere, I hope. Hell, I could be married by then with 2 kids (let me erase that... I can't be speaking stuff into existence all willy nilly like 'at)... But I do know that where I am right this minute is exactly where I'm supposed to be and so that gives me a good feeling for where I'll be in 5, 10, 15 years from now...
12.07.2010
Something I Miss
Remember this post? I still miss all those things, but I think I'm better at distinguishing between what I miss and what I think will just make everything "right" again. Or rather, I can distinguish when I'm legitimately missing a way my life used to be and when I wish I had it back just so things could be less whatever they are in that moment.
And yes, I still miss high school and undergrad and predictability in my life.
I genuinely miss J. As I'm moving through my counseling classes and learning about pacing clients, helping them find their own holding environments and so forth, I'm realizing that in a lot of ways, J acted as a holding environment for me. I'm realizing more and more the things about me that he seemed to intuitively understand without me having to explain the way I have to explain to so many, now.
I miss having my idiosyncrasies without consequence. :)
I don't miss J without remembering that it was for the best that things between us ended the way they did, but I would love to have him around, now, as a friend who just got it. I don't know for sure that that would be possible, but I would've loved to have had a shot at it.
And yes, I still miss high school and undergrad and predictability in my life.
I genuinely miss J. As I'm moving through my counseling classes and learning about pacing clients, helping them find their own holding environments and so forth, I'm realizing that in a lot of ways, J acted as a holding environment for me. I'm realizing more and more the things about me that he seemed to intuitively understand without me having to explain the way I have to explain to so many, now.
I miss having my idiosyncrasies without consequence. :)
I don't miss J without remembering that it was for the best that things between us ended the way they did, but I would love to have him around, now, as a friend who just got it. I don't know for sure that that would be possible, but I would've loved to have had a shot at it.
12.06.2010
My Favorite Place
This is a tough one... I have a lot of places I think of fondly and love going back to.
I love going to where my mom is from. There's a lot of history in that little town and I feel like it's so rich with a culture I'll never fully understand.
I love going to the apartment building my godmother manages. She's been there as long as I've been alive (longer) and it's a building for the elderly. I grew up with a lot of grandmothers and grandfathers. Lots of warm memories.
There's a spot on top of Signal Mtn that J loved. I like to go there and think about him.
I love Best Buy. Music and gadgets. Doesn't get better than that.
I love my mama's house. It's not the house I grew up in (love that place too) but it's where my mama is and I really like the house.
But maybe my favorite place isn't really one place. I like to be where people I love are. That can be almost anywhere. I guess I buy heavily into the idea that "home is where the heart is..." I have a lot of homes. Lots of places I know I can go if I need a break, or a re-do, or some advice, or even a knock upside the head.
In my classes we talk a lot about holding environments. People who confirm, contradict and show continuity. I've found that in several places and with several people and that's why it's hard to nail down one favorite place. I just like to be where my heart is.
I love going to where my mom is from. There's a lot of history in that little town and I feel like it's so rich with a culture I'll never fully understand.
I love going to the apartment building my godmother manages. She's been there as long as I've been alive (longer) and it's a building for the elderly. I grew up with a lot of grandmothers and grandfathers. Lots of warm memories.
There's a spot on top of Signal Mtn that J loved. I like to go there and think about him.
I love Best Buy. Music and gadgets. Doesn't get better than that.
I love my mama's house. It's not the house I grew up in (love that place too) but it's where my mama is and I really like the house.
But maybe my favorite place isn't really one place. I like to be where people I love are. That can be almost anywhere. I guess I buy heavily into the idea that "home is where the heart is..." I have a lot of homes. Lots of places I know I can go if I need a break, or a re-do, or some advice, or even a knock upside the head.
In my classes we talk a lot about holding environments. People who confirm, contradict and show continuity. I've found that in several places and with several people and that's why it's hard to nail down one favorite place. I just like to be where my heart is.
12.03.2010
My Fears
Knowing what someone does or does not believe can tell you a lot about them. Knowing a person's fears, though, can really get you inside how a person thinks. On the whole, we fear what we can't control and it's telling what a person doesn't feel in control of, enough to then be afraid of it.
I fear losing my mother.
I fear failure -- that means that sometimes, I don't go after something because the possibility that I might not get it scares me too much. I can tell you that this has never applied to anything dealing with school or career (and I'll leave that right there).
I fear betrayal.
That's really about it. I'm not fearless at all, but most anything else are minute fears in comparison to these.
I fear losing my mother.
I fear failure -- that means that sometimes, I don't go after something because the possibility that I might not get it scares me too much. I can tell you that this has never applied to anything dealing with school or career (and I'll leave that right there).
I fear betrayal.
That's really about it. I'm not fearless at all, but most anything else are minute fears in comparison to these.
12.02.2010
A First...
Christmas of 1999 "Remember the Titans" came out in theaters and after our traditional dinner with my aunt, uncle and their children my mom decided we would go to the movies. I, actually, was surprised the theater was open. In my 12 (I turned 13 5 days later) year old mind, everything shut down on Christmas.
As we sat in the lobby waiting on the movie to start, I saw a large family come into the theater as well. There were easily 8 - 10 people in this group and they were all talking. I was enthralled by the thought of what their Christmas dinner had been like. This entire story began taking shape in my mind -- how had they decided to come to the movies? And how had they decided what movie to see?
When I got home, I sat down at our home PC and tapped out a 12 page short story called "The Best is Yet to Come." The narrator is loosely based on me and she recounts the story of her Christmas with her grandmother (loosely based on my mom), several of her cousins (of course, loosely based on my own cousins). That short story was the first short story I ever wrote and, to this day, is one of the only short story I've finished. The other finished short stories are posted on this blog.
Sometime during my freshman year in high school (the next year) I gave it to my English teacher to read. He had really nice things to say about it and made me feel good about my accomplishment.
I lost the digital copy of the story eons ago, but I have many hard copies. At one point I was intending to re-type it so I would always have it... I need to get back to that and make some edits to it that my 12 year old self wouldn't have seen the need to make.
Anyway, that first short story set off a chain of short stories. Like that one, I mostly base my characters and the stories around what's happening. I've explored what might have been in a couple of short stories and even what I wish would be. On the whole, I've started and deleted a number of them, but I've not been proud of any like I was proud of that one.
As we sat in the lobby waiting on the movie to start, I saw a large family come into the theater as well. There were easily 8 - 10 people in this group and they were all talking. I was enthralled by the thought of what their Christmas dinner had been like. This entire story began taking shape in my mind -- how had they decided to come to the movies? And how had they decided what movie to see?
When I got home, I sat down at our home PC and tapped out a 12 page short story called "The Best is Yet to Come." The narrator is loosely based on me and she recounts the story of her Christmas with her grandmother (loosely based on my mom), several of her cousins (of course, loosely based on my own cousins). That short story was the first short story I ever wrote and, to this day, is one of the only short story I've finished. The other finished short stories are posted on this blog.
Sometime during my freshman year in high school (the next year) I gave it to my English teacher to read. He had really nice things to say about it and made me feel good about my accomplishment.
I lost the digital copy of the story eons ago, but I have many hard copies. At one point I was intending to re-type it so I would always have it... I need to get back to that and make some edits to it that my 12 year old self wouldn't have seen the need to make.
Anyway, that first short story set off a chain of short stories. Like that one, I mostly base my characters and the stories around what's happening. I've explored what might have been in a couple of short stories and even what I wish would be. On the whole, I've started and deleted a number of them, but I've not been proud of any like I was proud of that one.
12.01.2010
Something That Makes Me Cry
I don't cry very much. I joke and say it's because my tear ducts don't work. That's not true, they work just fine, I just hate to cry. Call it an aversion to being vulnerable or having had really bad experiences with how I'm treated when I cry, but I don't cry very much, and when I do, you can be pretty sured, I'm probably not in public.
However, thinking about life without my mother makes me cry. I love my mom and she's so much a part of my life that trying to imagine it without her makes me cry. I just don't know how I would function and I just feel terrible for folks when I hear they've lost their mom. Hell, I feel bad for my mom because she lost her mom and that in April of next year, that will be 20 years ago.
My mom and I have not always had the best relationship, but I've always been very very aware that she loves me and only wants the best for me. My mom has sacrificed so much for me and I"m eternally grateful. Sometimes she gets on my last nerve but I really do appreciate all she's willing to do for me, even now. It's easy for me to think of the things she didn't give me when I was younger, but as I've gotten older it's become important for me to see all that I had. I had a single parent who made sure I reached my potential. Being a single parent is not easy but my mom really did make it look that way.
Maybe it's because I know that no matter what my mom's got my back -- and it's becoming clear to me that that's next to impossible to find in folks these days. Maybe it's because sometimes my mom really does know me better than I know myself and the thought of doing every day without having that one person who will care no matter what is nerve wracking, but I know that life without my mother would be a scary place and the thought of it brings tears to my eyes every time. Took me a minute to get through this post, even.
However, thinking about life without my mother makes me cry. I love my mom and she's so much a part of my life that trying to imagine it without her makes me cry. I just don't know how I would function and I just feel terrible for folks when I hear they've lost their mom. Hell, I feel bad for my mom because she lost her mom and that in April of next year, that will be 20 years ago.
My mom and I have not always had the best relationship, but I've always been very very aware that she loves me and only wants the best for me. My mom has sacrificed so much for me and I"m eternally grateful. Sometimes she gets on my last nerve but I really do appreciate all she's willing to do for me, even now. It's easy for me to think of the things she didn't give me when I was younger, but as I've gotten older it's become important for me to see all that I had. I had a single parent who made sure I reached my potential. Being a single parent is not easy but my mom really did make it look that way.
Maybe it's because I know that no matter what my mom's got my back -- and it's becoming clear to me that that's next to impossible to find in folks these days. Maybe it's because sometimes my mom really does know me better than I know myself and the thought of doing every day without having that one person who will care no matter what is nerve wracking, but I know that life without my mother would be a scary place and the thought of it brings tears to my eyes every time. Took me a minute to get through this post, even.
11.30.2010
Something That Makes Me Feel Better
Music. I did a whole post on how much I love music.
One of my older cousins used to have an amazing CD collection. I aspired to have as much music as she did, when I was younger. I used to go to her house and sit for hours just listening to her records. Hearing "Sumthin' Wicked This Way Comes" by TLC made me fall in love with music. I can't tell you what it was, but I distinctly remember that moment, on my cousin's couch, reading the liner notes and lyrics (ya'll remember when artists gave a sh*t and put lyrics in their liner notes?). SWTWC was the last song on the album, but by the end of Andre 3000's verse, I was in love. Without fail, music makes me feel better every time. I don't care if it's a song that is slow or fast. I don't care about the genre (for the most part). Music does it to me every. time.
Sometimes music says something for me in a way I'd been trying to, but couldn't. Sometimes I hear song lyrics that perfectly describe my feelings and I had no idea I was feeling that way. I love it when a song reminds me of a good moment in time and even the songs that remind me of less than stellar times are good to me. I love how I can be in one place and hear a song that acts like a time machine and takes me to another place.
On Day 1 I mentioned how J and I used to use music to communicate with each other. I have CDs upon CDs upon CDs that I made for him or he made for me. Sometimes it gets hard for me to put into words what I'm feeling, good or bad, and it's always nice to be able to send someone a song and say "here. listen to this."
I'm always amused when I peep someone else doing it. I've definitely been in the car on multiple occasions with many couples who had entire conversations using the radio in the car!
I love using music as markers in my life. Destiny Child's first album (which is self-titled) reminds me of the move my mom and I made when I was 14 because I would bring that CD with me and sit in what was to be my new room while she did work on the house. When I hear "No More Rain in This Cloud" by Angie Stone, I think of my first year at a new school. Hearing just about anything by Helen Baylor or Michael Bolton from the early 90s makes me think of trips to AL to see family.
I love making my own ringtones out of what I'm listening to and assigning them to friends based on what makes me think of them. Sometimes it's ironic, other times it's on point.
Music isn't far from me at any given moment and I rely on it to get me through most days. Some folks use drugs or alcohol; they ride a bike or swim; they write (which I do as well) or sing; I listen to music to get away from what's happening right now and to feel better.
One of my older cousins used to have an amazing CD collection. I aspired to have as much music as she did, when I was younger. I used to go to her house and sit for hours just listening to her records. Hearing "Sumthin' Wicked This Way Comes" by TLC made me fall in love with music. I can't tell you what it was, but I distinctly remember that moment, on my cousin's couch, reading the liner notes and lyrics (ya'll remember when artists gave a sh*t and put lyrics in their liner notes?). SWTWC was the last song on the album, but by the end of Andre 3000's verse, I was in love. Without fail, music makes me feel better every time. I don't care if it's a song that is slow or fast. I don't care about the genre (for the most part). Music does it to me every. time.
Sometimes music says something for me in a way I'd been trying to, but couldn't. Sometimes I hear song lyrics that perfectly describe my feelings and I had no idea I was feeling that way. I love it when a song reminds me of a good moment in time and even the songs that remind me of less than stellar times are good to me. I love how I can be in one place and hear a song that acts like a time machine and takes me to another place.
On Day 1 I mentioned how J and I used to use music to communicate with each other. I have CDs upon CDs upon CDs that I made for him or he made for me. Sometimes it gets hard for me to put into words what I'm feeling, good or bad, and it's always nice to be able to send someone a song and say "here. listen to this."
I'm always amused when I peep someone else doing it. I've definitely been in the car on multiple occasions with many couples who had entire conversations using the radio in the car!
I love using music as markers in my life. Destiny Child's first album (which is self-titled) reminds me of the move my mom and I made when I was 14 because I would bring that CD with me and sit in what was to be my new room while she did work on the house. When I hear "No More Rain in This Cloud" by Angie Stone, I think of my first year at a new school. Hearing just about anything by Helen Baylor or Michael Bolton from the early 90s makes me think of trips to AL to see family.
I love making my own ringtones out of what I'm listening to and assigning them to friends based on what makes me think of them. Sometimes it's ironic, other times it's on point.
Music isn't far from me at any given moment and I rely on it to get me through most days. Some folks use drugs or alcohol; they ride a bike or swim; they write (which I do as well) or sing; I listen to music to get away from what's happening right now and to feel better.
11.29.2010
Something That Upsets Me
I hate being taken advantage of.
The only thing I hate more than that is someone I care about taking advantage of me.
It's unfortunate that I hate that so much because it happens all the time.
It upsets me so much because of how giving I am of myself and my time. It's so important to me that those around me -- the ones I care about -- know that if I have it, they have it. Unfortunately, people see that and they think it's a free for all. My generosity isn't going anywhere but some people act like if they don't take it all right now they won't get any, and they keep taking and taking and...
But you know what, I keep giving and giving. I got so fed up with the cycle that I wrote an open letter to my friends a few months ago.
Some things changed, but not enough. I have a tendency to put all that back on myself. I see how I put myself in a position to be used and I critique my own decisions and I come to the conclusion that hey -- if I want things to be different, I need to make different decisions. I'm sure a lot of you agree with that.
But you know what? That's bullshit. It's true, but it's some unfortunate bullshit all the same. Why do I have to be careful? Huh? Why can't these people around me pause for a second and say...hey...wait a minute... Ashley is ALWAYS giving and on point and there for me so why can't I press pause and be appreciative instead of expectant? Thankful instead of needy? I begin to feel like that's the only way I can be in some folks life -- if I'm doing something for them. Oh, I know the right answer: if they only want me around because I can do things for them, then I need to keep on moving. Uh-huh. Yeah. I got it, but it's how I feel all the same.
I guess just like it is me to be giving, it is some people to be selfish.
In any case, that's what upsets me. Being taken advantaged of. Knowing that a person is only interacting with me because they need something and, going a little bit further, almost being unable to stop myself from giving them exactly what they want. And let me be clear -- sometimes folks can feel that I'm getting frustrated so they pull back. Ashley's getting mad, so I won't ask her to do this -- that's not it. It's the lack of appreciation shown and the expectation that just because you asked me to do something I will.
I have finals coming up and any free time I can find, I need -- but I will use that spare time to do anything a friend needs me to and do so gladly when that friend is appreciative and I know that if the tables were turned, they'd do the same for me.
Taking advantage of someone or something has a lot of moving parts and I'm painfully aware of them all because that upsets me.
The only thing I hate more than that is someone I care about taking advantage of me.
It's unfortunate that I hate that so much because it happens all the time.
It upsets me so much because of how giving I am of myself and my time. It's so important to me that those around me -- the ones I care about -- know that if I have it, they have it. Unfortunately, people see that and they think it's a free for all. My generosity isn't going anywhere but some people act like if they don't take it all right now they won't get any, and they keep taking and taking and...
But you know what, I keep giving and giving. I got so fed up with the cycle that I wrote an open letter to my friends a few months ago.
Some things changed, but not enough. I have a tendency to put all that back on myself. I see how I put myself in a position to be used and I critique my own decisions and I come to the conclusion that hey -- if I want things to be different, I need to make different decisions. I'm sure a lot of you agree with that.
But you know what? That's bullshit. It's true, but it's some unfortunate bullshit all the same. Why do I have to be careful? Huh? Why can't these people around me pause for a second and say...hey...wait a minute... Ashley is ALWAYS giving and on point and there for me so why can't I press pause and be appreciative instead of expectant? Thankful instead of needy? I begin to feel like that's the only way I can be in some folks life -- if I'm doing something for them. Oh, I know the right answer: if they only want me around because I can do things for them, then I need to keep on moving. Uh-huh. Yeah. I got it, but it's how I feel all the same.
I guess just like it is me to be giving, it is some people to be selfish.
In any case, that's what upsets me. Being taken advantaged of. Knowing that a person is only interacting with me because they need something and, going a little bit further, almost being unable to stop myself from giving them exactly what they want. And let me be clear -- sometimes folks can feel that I'm getting frustrated so they pull back. Ashley's getting mad, so I won't ask her to do this -- that's not it. It's the lack of appreciation shown and the expectation that just because you asked me to do something I will.
I have finals coming up and any free time I can find, I need -- but I will use that spare time to do anything a friend needs me to and do so gladly when that friend is appreciative and I know that if the tables were turned, they'd do the same for me.
Taking advantage of someone or something has a lot of moving parts and I'm painfully aware of them all because that upsets me.
11.25.2010
Another Moment
I stress over the topics like this. I want to give you guys good pieces into who I am by giving you good moments in my life that I think are integral to who I am in this time of my life. I have so many moments that it's hard to pick just one. However I think I've settled on a good one...
When I was a teen, church, specifically my youth group, was a big part of my life. I loved going to church and spending time with my friends in the youth group. We were really like family. Our youth pastor, his wife and the other adults that worked with us purposefully had us participate in activities that were intended to force us to grow as a unit. One body. I learned SO MUCH about myself in those 6 years; lessons I use to this day and I'm eternally grateful for that time.
However, I suffered from the same conflicted feelings in that group that I did in many of my friend groups at that time in my life (and sometimes do even now). I felt outside of everything. like I toed the line of being on the outside looking in all the time. It was like I was just window shopping or a voyeur in my own life and in my own relationships. It's an odd feeling, for sure. These feelings ran right up against knowing that my youth group liked me. I was always included in outings outside of church activities and a few of them even called me frequently for advice or just to talk (I told someone recently, I've been a counselor all my life...).
Every year our youth group spent a week at camp. Camp was always intense, lots of bible study but lots of team building activities. We were with each other 24 hours a day from midday Monday to midday Saturday and all of our weeks culminated with a night spent sharing what the week had meant to us. Each year the how of sharing differed. The 4th year we went to camp, I was a junior in high school and most of the folks in the group that I'd grown up with were seniors and preparing to graduate. The year had also been a hard one for me -- I was beginning to feel especially outside of everything -- all that teen angst was really hitting its peak and I'd even begun to have conflict with some of the adults working with our youth group -- this was a major thing because I was the only teen the adults included in on some private meetings/information.
Bracelets were a big deal in our group. At one point I think I had 3-4 bracelets all signifying various ways I was dedicated to the youth group. The way they decided we would express what camp had meant to us that year would be to give each other beads for our bracelet. We were given 7 beads and we had to give one bead to the 7 people who helped us through camp the most. There being 30+ teens on the trip, and with the sorts of all-hands-on-deck activities we participated in, it was absolutely numbing to think I'd have to only peg 7 people who helped me the most. In the back of my mind, I was also anticipating how many beads I might get -- I felt like if I got 5, I'd be happy.
As we all walked around a small room giving each other beads, I took beads from friends and shoved them in my pocket. I was amazed at the things people told me I did that helped them that week. Little things that I didn't remember doing or felt like anyone would have done really spoke to people. Some people were more broad and commented on how I'd helped them the entire time they'd been in the group while other people could specify the very moment. I was absolutely shocked at how many people noticed me.
At the end of the night, I pulled the beads out of my pocket and counted 17. Over half of the group felt like I was one of 7 people who helped them significantly in some way. I really was touched and so thankful. That moment did a lot for me on a personal level and really made me want to go out and a)continue to do those little things that I think most people never notice I do and b)be more cognizant of those who do those little things for me.
I've had moments similar to then, since. Many moments, in fact. But that was my first time and it really changed a lot for me in terms of my expectations of others and of myself. I love for knowing that I've been a positive impact on someone -- even when they don't say it to me directly, it does something to know that my existence made someone else's existence better. However, I also get a real kick out of doing things for people that they never notice. I really just love knowing the people I care about are being cared for. Ya dig? ;)
When I was a teen, church, specifically my youth group, was a big part of my life. I loved going to church and spending time with my friends in the youth group. We were really like family. Our youth pastor, his wife and the other adults that worked with us purposefully had us participate in activities that were intended to force us to grow as a unit. One body. I learned SO MUCH about myself in those 6 years; lessons I use to this day and I'm eternally grateful for that time.
However, I suffered from the same conflicted feelings in that group that I did in many of my friend groups at that time in my life (and sometimes do even now). I felt outside of everything. like I toed the line of being on the outside looking in all the time. It was like I was just window shopping or a voyeur in my own life and in my own relationships. It's an odd feeling, for sure. These feelings ran right up against knowing that my youth group liked me. I was always included in outings outside of church activities and a few of them even called me frequently for advice or just to talk (I told someone recently, I've been a counselor all my life...).
Every year our youth group spent a week at camp. Camp was always intense, lots of bible study but lots of team building activities. We were with each other 24 hours a day from midday Monday to midday Saturday and all of our weeks culminated with a night spent sharing what the week had meant to us. Each year the how of sharing differed. The 4th year we went to camp, I was a junior in high school and most of the folks in the group that I'd grown up with were seniors and preparing to graduate. The year had also been a hard one for me -- I was beginning to feel especially outside of everything -- all that teen angst was really hitting its peak and I'd even begun to have conflict with some of the adults working with our youth group -- this was a major thing because I was the only teen the adults included in on some private meetings/information.
Bracelets were a big deal in our group. At one point I think I had 3-4 bracelets all signifying various ways I was dedicated to the youth group. The way they decided we would express what camp had meant to us that year would be to give each other beads for our bracelet. We were given 7 beads and we had to give one bead to the 7 people who helped us through camp the most. There being 30+ teens on the trip, and with the sorts of all-hands-on-deck activities we participated in, it was absolutely numbing to think I'd have to only peg 7 people who helped me the most. In the back of my mind, I was also anticipating how many beads I might get -- I felt like if I got 5, I'd be happy.
As we all walked around a small room giving each other beads, I took beads from friends and shoved them in my pocket. I was amazed at the things people told me I did that helped them that week. Little things that I didn't remember doing or felt like anyone would have done really spoke to people. Some people were more broad and commented on how I'd helped them the entire time they'd been in the group while other people could specify the very moment. I was absolutely shocked at how many people noticed me.
At the end of the night, I pulled the beads out of my pocket and counted 17. Over half of the group felt like I was one of 7 people who helped them significantly in some way. I really was touched and so thankful. That moment did a lot for me on a personal level and really made me want to go out and a)continue to do those little things that I think most people never notice I do and b)be more cognizant of those who do those little things for me.
I've had moments similar to then, since. Many moments, in fact. But that was my first time and it really changed a lot for me in terms of my expectations of others and of myself. I love for knowing that I've been a positive impact on someone -- even when they don't say it to me directly, it does something to know that my existence made someone else's existence better. However, I also get a real kick out of doing things for people that they never notice. I really just love knowing the people I care about are being cared for. Ya dig? ;)
This Month
This month has been crazy. I can't even remember it. I can't believe today is even Thanksgiving. I've had papers out the wazoo this month, the election was in the early part of this month and I've been doing a lot of prepping for next semester, it's just been a whirlwind!
I can't even adequately recount this month, that's how fast it seems to have gone by. I have so much on my plate and no time to get it done. I'm confused about my feelings for someone (oh boy, did I say that out loud? Uhh...ok... ) and I'm going to die if I don't get a break from life soon. I'm scared about what my practicum will bring next semester, but scared in a good way.
Too, in this month, I've grown closer to some new friends, feel like I've strengthened bonds with other friends (and further in limbo with yet other friends). I'm closer to that Master's than I was this time last month, I'm even more sure that counseling is the perfect field for me and as stressed as I am, I'm loving the experience I'm gaining.
That's this month. 5 more days until it's over and then it's my birthday month!
I can't even adequately recount this month, that's how fast it seems to have gone by. I have so much on my plate and no time to get it done. I'm confused about my feelings for someone (oh boy, did I say that out loud? Uhh...ok... ) and I'm going to die if I don't get a break from life soon. I'm scared about what my practicum will bring next semester, but scared in a good way.
Too, in this month, I've grown closer to some new friends, feel like I've strengthened bonds with other friends (and further in limbo with yet other friends). I'm closer to that Master's than I was this time last month, I'm even more sure that counseling is the perfect field for me and as stressed as I am, I'm loving the experience I'm gaining.
That's this month. 5 more days until it's over and then it's my birthday month!
11.24.2010
Something I Regret
I saw someone on twitter talking about how they didn't regret anything they had done. I mean this is just like the "if you could go back and change anything, what would it be..."
The right answer, of course, is "nothing, my mistakes make me who I am..." and that's a great answer. It's true, we learn from our mistakes and they got us to where we are, but does no one ever stop and wonder where else they might be? Not that where you are is bad, or that you could be anywhere better, but just... different? No one?
Just because you regret a decision doesn't mean you made a mistake and sometimes because you made a mistake doesn't mean you regret doing it.
There are 3 things I regret almost equally, and they all revolve around the same lesson (I really believe life gives you the test before the lesson and continues to test you until you pass it -- a developmental theory I'm now familiar with suggests that you experience the same things repeatedly, just a higher and higher levels of understanding...): telling people how you feel before it's too late.
In 2008 an uncle died. I hadn't seen him in years upon years, but he lived in the same city as my mom. While I was in college, he was found in his house unconscious. He'd fallen into a diabetic coma and they believed he'd been that way for 3 days, at least. He regained consciousness, but had some brain damage (the brain was swollen for 3 days and pushing against the skull resulted in damage). He didn't know who anyone was and he didn't know what had happened to him. A few weeks after he regained consciousness my mom, her brothers and his kids decided to put him in a nursing home until he got well enough to go back home. While I was home for Spring Break that year, my mom asked if I wanted to go to the nursing home to visit him. I hate nursing homes. Hate. So I asked my mom how he was doing -- she assured me he was fine and getting better every day. I decided not to go.
The next week, my uncle died. Did I have anything to tell him? No -- but it would've been nice to see him one last time.
In 2009, J committed suicide. As I mentioned in some of the posts I did after his death, there were things I really wanted to say to him and never got the chance. There have been, continue to be and I anticipate will be days where I think that had he known the things I wanted to tell him he might still be here. I know it's not my fault, I don't ever think that, but I can't help but wonder what if -- what might be different right now if I'd gotten over myself and expressed my feelings...
In 2010, the uncle that I talked about on my blog got sick and died. My mom used to hassle me everytime I was home about going downstairs to spend time with him. He worked all the time and so when I would be up, he'd be at work and when he got home I usually would be out. That's not to say I had no opportunities to see him -- I did and I didn't take them. There were lots of things I would've loved to have heard him tell me about, like how he started his business and what it was like to be a business owner. I did, however, see him when he first went into the hospital when he was still doing ok, before the surgery. It was eerie seeing him in the casket at his funeral because he'd lost a lot of weight after his surgery.
It's easy to hear the lesson of recognizing that life is precious in these -- and that is an important lesson; however what I keep being reminded of is how important it is to let those around me know how I feel about them. To take advantage of time I have with people I care about. Ironically I sometimes get so focused on making those brief moments be everything they can that I miss out on the moment! I'm trying to work on that too. Being fully present for everything I experience isn't as easy as it sounds, but I am trying.
I regret plenty of things, but I learn from those regrets and ideally I wouldn't repeat those mistakes. I don't think it's a bad thing to have regrets. It means you're looking for those life lessons and learning from them. I love self-aware people, they are the best! It's not easy being self-aware; it requires un-fun conversations with yourself and sometimes people you really care about but personal growth is everything!
The right answer, of course, is "nothing, my mistakes make me who I am..." and that's a great answer. It's true, we learn from our mistakes and they got us to where we are, but does no one ever stop and wonder where else they might be? Not that where you are is bad, or that you could be anywhere better, but just... different? No one?
Just because you regret a decision doesn't mean you made a mistake and sometimes because you made a mistake doesn't mean you regret doing it.
There are 3 things I regret almost equally, and they all revolve around the same lesson (I really believe life gives you the test before the lesson and continues to test you until you pass it -- a developmental theory I'm now familiar with suggests that you experience the same things repeatedly, just a higher and higher levels of understanding...): telling people how you feel before it's too late.
In 2008 an uncle died. I hadn't seen him in years upon years, but he lived in the same city as my mom. While I was in college, he was found in his house unconscious. He'd fallen into a diabetic coma and they believed he'd been that way for 3 days, at least. He regained consciousness, but had some brain damage (the brain was swollen for 3 days and pushing against the skull resulted in damage). He didn't know who anyone was and he didn't know what had happened to him. A few weeks after he regained consciousness my mom, her brothers and his kids decided to put him in a nursing home until he got well enough to go back home. While I was home for Spring Break that year, my mom asked if I wanted to go to the nursing home to visit him. I hate nursing homes. Hate. So I asked my mom how he was doing -- she assured me he was fine and getting better every day. I decided not to go.
The next week, my uncle died. Did I have anything to tell him? No -- but it would've been nice to see him one last time.
In 2009, J committed suicide. As I mentioned in some of the posts I did after his death, there were things I really wanted to say to him and never got the chance. There have been, continue to be and I anticipate will be days where I think that had he known the things I wanted to tell him he might still be here. I know it's not my fault, I don't ever think that, but I can't help but wonder what if -- what might be different right now if I'd gotten over myself and expressed my feelings...
In 2010, the uncle that I talked about on my blog got sick and died. My mom used to hassle me everytime I was home about going downstairs to spend time with him. He worked all the time and so when I would be up, he'd be at work and when he got home I usually would be out. That's not to say I had no opportunities to see him -- I did and I didn't take them. There were lots of things I would've loved to have heard him tell me about, like how he started his business and what it was like to be a business owner. I did, however, see him when he first went into the hospital when he was still doing ok, before the surgery. It was eerie seeing him in the casket at his funeral because he'd lost a lot of weight after his surgery.
It's easy to hear the lesson of recognizing that life is precious in these -- and that is an important lesson; however what I keep being reminded of is how important it is to let those around me know how I feel about them. To take advantage of time I have with people I care about. Ironically I sometimes get so focused on making those brief moments be everything they can that I miss out on the moment! I'm trying to work on that too. Being fully present for everything I experience isn't as easy as it sounds, but I am trying.
I regret plenty of things, but I learn from those regrets and ideally I wouldn't repeat those mistakes. I don't think it's a bad thing to have regrets. It means you're looking for those life lessons and learning from them. I love self-aware people, they are the best! It's not easy being self-aware; it requires un-fun conversations with yourself and sometimes people you really care about but personal growth is everything!
11.23.2010
My Favorite Birthday
My birthday is December 30th. 5 days after Christmas, the day before New Year's Eve. Many people forget it. Folks always remember it's after Christmas and before New Year's, but that's about it. Over the years, I've learned to just be happy that someone remembered to reach out to me in that 5 day period, but I'm always tickled pink when someone makes it a point to remember me on that day.
Because I'm so close to the holidays, birthday parties have been few and far between. The other thing is I've always had a mixed bag of friends and always worried how a large party where they were all there would work. I always felt like I'd be so stressed trying to make sure everyone else had a good time that I wouldn't have a good time.
I have a lot of birthday memories. As far as parties go, the only one I remember is the one I had when I was 9. Mom rented out a skating rink, invited family and friends and I had a blast, even though my skating skills were questionable at best. ;)
The year I turned 16, I got my license on my birthday, that was cool. The next year, I missed curfew on my birthday and got in some serious trouble. J and I got back together on my 19th birthday; that was memorable...
But my favorite birthday??
Probably my 18th birthday. One of my closest friends from high school threw me a party at her lake house. Old friends from high school and new friends from college showed up. It was maybe the most dramatic party ever. Everyone there was underage, but we managed to score some alcohol (the skills you learn in college are amazing) and I spent the whole night finding the "swirly zone" as I labeled it. By the time I did that, I heard some arguing going on in the upstairs bedroom. All my other friends were downstairs playing pool, so I went up to investigate. Two of my friends who were dating at the time were in a fight and as I walked in, the girl bum rushed the guy into a wall and began hitting him. I immediately squeezed myself in between them (I wasn't sober, give me a break) and bodied her onto the bed. I literally had to lay on her to make sure she didn't get back up. Meanwhile, homeboy was livid and he came for her too. I got her out of the room and took her downstairs.
When I got downstairs and the other guys found out that he almost hit her, they went crazy.
By then my buzz had been blown so I did 3 triple shots of vodka and went to bed. I paid dearly for that.
So how's this my favorite birthday? Well I was surrounded by some really good friends. I mean some of my friends that were there drove a good ways to be at my party. Before the fighting, we'd all been having a great time and really enjoying each other's companies. The entire spectrum of the mixed bag that is my friends wasn't represented that night but there was a good mix and they all had a great time together. I really think it's a big idea for someone to want to spend part of their day and their time with you helping you celebrate an event they weren't even present for! I'd take a friend just wanting to chill with me on my birthday over presents any day.
Because I'm so close to the holidays, birthday parties have been few and far between. The other thing is I've always had a mixed bag of friends and always worried how a large party where they were all there would work. I always felt like I'd be so stressed trying to make sure everyone else had a good time that I wouldn't have a good time.
I have a lot of birthday memories. As far as parties go, the only one I remember is the one I had when I was 9. Mom rented out a skating rink, invited family and friends and I had a blast, even though my skating skills were questionable at best. ;)
The year I turned 16, I got my license on my birthday, that was cool. The next year, I missed curfew on my birthday and got in some serious trouble. J and I got back together on my 19th birthday; that was memorable...
But my favorite birthday??
Probably my 18th birthday. One of my closest friends from high school threw me a party at her lake house. Old friends from high school and new friends from college showed up. It was maybe the most dramatic party ever. Everyone there was underage, but we managed to score some alcohol (the skills you learn in college are amazing) and I spent the whole night finding the "swirly zone" as I labeled it. By the time I did that, I heard some arguing going on in the upstairs bedroom. All my other friends were downstairs playing pool, so I went up to investigate. Two of my friends who were dating at the time were in a fight and as I walked in, the girl bum rushed the guy into a wall and began hitting him. I immediately squeezed myself in between them (I wasn't sober, give me a break) and bodied her onto the bed. I literally had to lay on her to make sure she didn't get back up. Meanwhile, homeboy was livid and he came for her too. I got her out of the room and took her downstairs.
When I got downstairs and the other guys found out that he almost hit her, they went crazy.
By then my buzz had been blown so I did 3 triple shots of vodka and went to bed. I paid dearly for that.
So how's this my favorite birthday? Well I was surrounded by some really good friends. I mean some of my friends that were there drove a good ways to be at my party. Before the fighting, we'd all been having a great time and really enjoying each other's companies. The entire spectrum of the mixed bag that is my friends wasn't represented that night but there was a good mix and they all had a great time together. I really think it's a big idea for someone to want to spend part of their day and their time with you helping you celebrate an event they weren't even present for! I'd take a friend just wanting to chill with me on my birthday over presents any day.
11.22.2010
My Favorite Memory
I have no idea what my favorite memory is. I have many that I draw on when I need a pick me up. Like my trip to Belize in 06, graduating from college in 08, random moments in my life where I had a good time with friends, memories of pushing myself beyond what I thought I could do, etc...
To have to pick just one memory as my absolute favorite isn't fair. I don't know that I can do it. What I can do is pick a favorite memory, though.
My mother loves her mother. I think in order, my mom loves God, her mother and then me. That doesn't bother me, I think it's a fair lineup. My grandmother had 14 kids, dealt with an abusive husband, worked a farm, raised her kids... she was fly. I didn't get a chance to know my grandmother like some of my older cousins did. Some of my oldest cousins were raised by my grandparents, alongside my mom. Others of them spent summers with my grandparents or were raised nearby. They all have many specific memories. However, my grandmother died when I was 4, so my memories of her are fewer.
As I began writing about this, I was inclined to share a story from during the time my grandmother lived with me and my mom. I realized that in some respects, there are aspects of my memory that are enhanced by pictures I have of me with her. One memory that I know isn't tainted by pictures is of the time I slammed my thumb in the car door.
My mom owned a black, 2-door 1986 GMC Jimmy when I was born. On a trip down to visit my grandparents, I got out of the backseat on my own and shut the door myself. My mom was distracted by a relative and so she didn't realize I'd gotten out of the car. I accidentally shut my thumb in the door.
I didn't break it, but obviously it hurt very much. I began screaming and my mother ran over and freed my thumb. She checked it out and saw it wasn't broken and told me, "Ashley, I'm sorry it hurts, but if it's not broken, there's nothing I can do about it." Of course at this point, I'm bawling as little kids are apt to do when in pain and it surely didn't help to hear my mom say there wasn't anything she could do. Your mother is supposed to make every pain go away, right?
My grandmother rushed to my aid once my screams were within earshot. My memory is of her setting me in her lap, wetting a paper towel with hydrogen peroxide and wrapping my thumb up in it. We all know that peroxide didn't do anything for the pain, but in my memory, the pain instantly went away. Just the fact that my grandmother tried was all I needed. I think that's what grandmothers are for -- to do the magical things mothers can't.
This is definitely a favorite memory.
On a slightly different note, I like responding to prompts like these. I'm a fan of random pieces of information about people because I feel like they're always a good window into that person's world. Often when I give people opportunities to ask me anything their heart desires, they ask personal and intimate questions. That's fine, I'll answer those, too -- I understand that we're often seeking the hidden parts of people -- but questions about my favorite memory, or what I wanted to be when I was younger or what my dreams and goals are will tell you more about me than anything about my personal self. When you know what a person values, you know everything you need to.
To have to pick just one memory as my absolute favorite isn't fair. I don't know that I can do it. What I can do is pick a favorite memory, though.
My mother loves her mother. I think in order, my mom loves God, her mother and then me. That doesn't bother me, I think it's a fair lineup. My grandmother had 14 kids, dealt with an abusive husband, worked a farm, raised her kids... she was fly. I didn't get a chance to know my grandmother like some of my older cousins did. Some of my oldest cousins were raised by my grandparents, alongside my mom. Others of them spent summers with my grandparents or were raised nearby. They all have many specific memories. However, my grandmother died when I was 4, so my memories of her are fewer.
As I began writing about this, I was inclined to share a story from during the time my grandmother lived with me and my mom. I realized that in some respects, there are aspects of my memory that are enhanced by pictures I have of me with her. One memory that I know isn't tainted by pictures is of the time I slammed my thumb in the car door.
My mom owned a black, 2-door 1986 GMC Jimmy when I was born. On a trip down to visit my grandparents, I got out of the backseat on my own and shut the door myself. My mom was distracted by a relative and so she didn't realize I'd gotten out of the car. I accidentally shut my thumb in the door.
I didn't break it, but obviously it hurt very much. I began screaming and my mother ran over and freed my thumb. She checked it out and saw it wasn't broken and told me, "Ashley, I'm sorry it hurts, but if it's not broken, there's nothing I can do about it." Of course at this point, I'm bawling as little kids are apt to do when in pain and it surely didn't help to hear my mom say there wasn't anything she could do. Your mother is supposed to make every pain go away, right?
My grandmother rushed to my aid once my screams were within earshot. My memory is of her setting me in her lap, wetting a paper towel with hydrogen peroxide and wrapping my thumb up in it. We all know that peroxide didn't do anything for the pain, but in my memory, the pain instantly went away. Just the fact that my grandmother tried was all I needed. I think that's what grandmothers are for -- to do the magical things mothers can't.
This is definitely a favorite memory.
On a slightly different note, I like responding to prompts like these. I'm a fan of random pieces of information about people because I feel like they're always a good window into that person's world. Often when I give people opportunities to ask me anything their heart desires, they ask personal and intimate questions. That's fine, I'll answer those, too -- I understand that we're often seeking the hidden parts of people -- but questions about my favorite memory, or what I wanted to be when I was younger or what my dreams and goals are will tell you more about me than anything about my personal self. When you know what a person values, you know everything you need to.
11.19.2010
My First Kiss
*blushes*
Ya'll tryna get up in my business, aren't you?
I've always been a little ahead of the pack. My first kiss was in kindergarten. His name was Edward and he was my boyfriend. Not too long ago I unearthed some pictures of my graduation from kindergarten and there he was. My first kiss and boyfriend (he was cute!).
I can recall playing dumb games of spin the bottle that didn't amount to much more than puckered lips and pressing faces together. I actually can't remember the first time I "french" kissed (that's bad, right), but I can remember my friends and I talking about what it might be like. I laugh now to think of 12 year olds imagining their first "grown up kiss."
I'm not big on PDA... I hate it, actually. I've had to come to terms with the fact that there are others who don't share my feelings on that subject (for someone who hates PDA I stay having friends who LOVE it...) but one specific kiss came to mind as I was writing this:
One spring break I went to Belize with J and his family. It was our first time on a trip like that together and his parents were clearly using the trip as some alone time for them, so J and I had a lot of alone time ourselves (not as much as he would've liked, but that's a whole other story). One night, J got into a huge fight with his mom and brother and after dinner I found him at the bar drinking himself silly.
J had made a bet with bartender that he could finish a bottle of liquor without passing out. If he did, the bartender would take all his other drinks off the tab, if not, he had to pay for however much he did drink. When I found out about his stupid bet, I started pouring his drink out when the bartender's back was turned. Eventually he got up to go to the bathroom and by the time he returned, I'd been able to pour most of the liquor out. He wasn't especially happy about it and so I started kissing him, to jokingly make him feel better. Maybe it was because we had both been drinking but playful kisses quickly turned into some serious tongue wrestling. It was a small bar (we were at a small resort) and there were maybe 2 or 3 other people standing there talking when our impromptu make out session began...
At some point I remembered where we were and pushed him away, but by then the bar had seen all they needed to see. J thought it was absolutely hilarious.
Needless to say we went back to my room...
Oh but Edward -- wonder if I could find him on facebook. :)
Ya'll tryna get up in my business, aren't you?
I've always been a little ahead of the pack. My first kiss was in kindergarten. His name was Edward and he was my boyfriend. Not too long ago I unearthed some pictures of my graduation from kindergarten and there he was. My first kiss and boyfriend (he was cute!).
I can recall playing dumb games of spin the bottle that didn't amount to much more than puckered lips and pressing faces together. I actually can't remember the first time I "french" kissed (that's bad, right), but I can remember my friends and I talking about what it might be like. I laugh now to think of 12 year olds imagining their first "grown up kiss."
I'm not big on PDA... I hate it, actually. I've had to come to terms with the fact that there are others who don't share my feelings on that subject (for someone who hates PDA I stay having friends who LOVE it...) but one specific kiss came to mind as I was writing this:
One spring break I went to Belize with J and his family. It was our first time on a trip like that together and his parents were clearly using the trip as some alone time for them, so J and I had a lot of alone time ourselves (not as much as he would've liked, but that's a whole other story). One night, J got into a huge fight with his mom and brother and after dinner I found him at the bar drinking himself silly.
J had made a bet with bartender that he could finish a bottle of liquor without passing out. If he did, the bartender would take all his other drinks off the tab, if not, he had to pay for however much he did drink. When I found out about his stupid bet, I started pouring his drink out when the bartender's back was turned. Eventually he got up to go to the bathroom and by the time he returned, I'd been able to pour most of the liquor out. He wasn't especially happy about it and so I started kissing him, to jokingly make him feel better. Maybe it was because we had both been drinking but playful kisses quickly turned into some serious tongue wrestling. It was a small bar (we were at a small resort) and there were maybe 2 or 3 other people standing there talking when our impromptu make out session began...
At some point I remembered where we were and pushed him away, but by then the bar had seen all they needed to see. J thought it was absolutely hilarious.
Needless to say we went back to my room...
Oh but Edward -- wonder if I could find him on facebook. :)
11.18.2010
My Dreams
Remember the post I did before on dreams?
I talked about how I was tired of dreaming and ready to do. I didn't want to sit around talking about what I would be doing one day with my friends, I wanted to be doing all the great things my friends I dreamed up.
I still feel that way sometimes. I think my friends and I, and even some associates could do great things together if we teamed up; however, I know how important dreams are. A long while ago, I wrote some thoughts on the differences between dreams and goals I came to the ultimate conclusion that goals are the means to a dream. You have a dream (or dreams), and you set goals to get you there.
One dream I just recently voiced to a couple of friends is to start a boarding school. I don't know that I want to reinvent the wheel, but I've seen/read about an interesting organization that starts boarding schools in inner-city neighborhoods. The idea is to remove the students from environments that are anti-learning, without taking them completely out of their comfort zone.
I dream about smaller things... homeownership, driving a 18-wheeler (seriously), bungee jumping, sky diving, meeting the man I can't live without ;)
I dream about making a huge impact on the world and my first goal is to start within my own community. I'd say my first goal towards that dream is to get my M.Ed in school counseling. One semester is almost down and I'm definitely closer to that goal today than I was yesterday. Another goal is getting an organization idea I've been kicking around with some friends up and off the ground.
Dreaming is exciting -- it's fun to think about what can be and realize how much control you have over making that a reality. One more dream I have is being in a position to share that fact with people who don't know it.
I talked about how I was tired of dreaming and ready to do. I didn't want to sit around talking about what I would be doing one day with my friends, I wanted to be doing all the great things my friends I dreamed up.
I still feel that way sometimes. I think my friends and I, and even some associates could do great things together if we teamed up; however, I know how important dreams are. A long while ago, I wrote some thoughts on the differences between dreams and goals I came to the ultimate conclusion that goals are the means to a dream. You have a dream (or dreams), and you set goals to get you there.
One dream I just recently voiced to a couple of friends is to start a boarding school. I don't know that I want to reinvent the wheel, but I've seen/read about an interesting organization that starts boarding schools in inner-city neighborhoods. The idea is to remove the students from environments that are anti-learning, without taking them completely out of their comfort zone.
I dream about smaller things... homeownership, driving a 18-wheeler (seriously), bungee jumping, sky diving, meeting the man I can't live without ;)
I dream about making a huge impact on the world and my first goal is to start within my own community. I'd say my first goal towards that dream is to get my M.Ed in school counseling. One semester is almost down and I'm definitely closer to that goal today than I was yesterday. Another goal is getting an organization idea I've been kicking around with some friends up and off the ground.
Dreaming is exciting -- it's fun to think about what can be and realize how much control you have over making that a reality. One more dream I have is being in a position to share that fact with people who don't know it.
11.17.2010
What I Wore Today
Day 14: What You Wore Today
I've had a lot of stuff going on with school lately. That's meant I've been up late at night only to turn around and get up early in the morning. Today's wardrobe choices were simple. Jeans, t-shirt, sweatshirt. I was definitely looking like a tired and overworked college student.
At least I wore school paraphernalia, right?
I've had a lot of stuff going on with school lately. That's meant I've been up late at night only to turn around and get up early in the morning. Today's wardrobe choices were simple. Jeans, t-shirt, sweatshirt. I was definitely looking like a tired and overworked college student.
At least I wore school paraphernalia, right?
11.16.2010
This Week
We'll focus on the week 11/7 - 11/13
In hindsight, the week was a blur, much like all my other weeks as of late. I finished up a project at work and realized just how busy I'm about to be through the end of the semester at work.
Monday and Tuesday were focused on a presentation I had on Wednesday. I worked hurriedly at work and spent a lot of time on campus doing my portion of the project.
Wednesday the presentation went fairly well. My portion was short, but I heard later that people appreciated it.
Thursday I had a paper due, so of course that meant I was up Wednesday night working on it, which went into Thursday. I took Veterans' Day off to do that.
My highlight was definitely Friday night when my cohort got together for a Thanksgiving potluck. Our professors even came. I made my favorite corn casserole, and everyone said they really liked it (even though I realized this morning I forgot the eggs, but that didn't seem to effect things. I really, REALLY like my cohort (so much so that my fb status is "I love my cohort..."). They're a good group of people and as always I have to stop and think about the chances of having ever met them otherwise. I know it won't be long after we graduate that I'll really appreciate knowing them.
I felt like I was a day late and a dollar short all week. I was working on everything at the last minute and when I would try to stop and figure out how I got to that point, I'd come up with nothing. Time is speeding up; this is literally my only answer.
Trying some new tactics this week to get back on course. I'm actually trying to unearth some more time in a day already crammed full of things, so that's going to require scheduling and sticking very assuredly to that schedule. I think I can do it.
In hindsight, the week was a blur, much like all my other weeks as of late. I finished up a project at work and realized just how busy I'm about to be through the end of the semester at work.
Monday and Tuesday were focused on a presentation I had on Wednesday. I worked hurriedly at work and spent a lot of time on campus doing my portion of the project.
Wednesday the presentation went fairly well. My portion was short, but I heard later that people appreciated it.
Thursday I had a paper due, so of course that meant I was up Wednesday night working on it, which went into Thursday. I took Veterans' Day off to do that.
My highlight was definitely Friday night when my cohort got together for a Thanksgiving potluck. Our professors even came. I made my favorite corn casserole, and everyone said they really liked it (even though I realized this morning I forgot the eggs, but that didn't seem to effect things. I really, REALLY like my cohort (so much so that my fb status is "I love my cohort..."). They're a good group of people and as always I have to stop and think about the chances of having ever met them otherwise. I know it won't be long after we graduate that I'll really appreciate knowing them.
I felt like I was a day late and a dollar short all week. I was working on everything at the last minute and when I would try to stop and figure out how I got to that point, I'd come up with nothing. Time is speeding up; this is literally my only answer.
Trying some new tactics this week to get back on course. I'm actually trying to unearth some more time in a day already crammed full of things, so that's going to require scheduling and sticking very assuredly to that schedule. I think I can do it.
11.15.2010
What's In My Bag
Not too long ago, my mom bought me a large wide bag big enough to fit my laptop into. When I first got to grad school, I was using it faithfully -- and then I started needing to carry far more than a laptop and small notebook. I'm really not big on carrying two bags (I mean, why carry 2 when you can just carry one...) so I've switched back to my trusty backpack...
These days, my backpack contains, at all times, my laptop (and it's various cords), books, a notebook, folders, my water bottle, and an umbrella. I have a super cute Nicole Miller handbag that everyone loves, but I don't get to carry it very often, thanks to how much other stuff I'm forced to lug around.
I have to be honest: as much as I love handbags, I hate carrying them. Contradictory, huh? I just hate having extra accoutrement for no reason. :) If I can get away with sticking my ID, my debit card and some cash in a pocket and going about my day, 9 times out of 10, I will. Don't get me wrong, I know when a handbag is more appropriate, but like I said, when I can get away with it, I prefer not to have something hanging off me.
Back to the backpack -- I got this for undergrad. It's an LL Bean backpack, and I got put on to LL Bean backpacks when I first began my new school in 8th grade. During a half-day I spent following a current student around, I noticed that everyone (and I do mean everyone) had an LL Bean backpack (I understand that these days, the kids at that school carry NorthFace backpacks). I just had to have one -- but they were super expensive and my mom couldn't afford to buy me one. 2 nights before school started, we stopped by one of her friend's houses, and out they came with the backpack I wanted, complete with my initials! I wore that backpack out -- by my senior year, the bottom was held together with duct tape. I didn't want a new one, though; I liked that one. It was cobalt blue and by the time I finally had to let it go, it was covered in white out from me writing quotes on it. I made it uniquely mine (because I quickly learned that the downside to going with the crowd on this one was finding your backpack in a sea of backpacks after chapel!)
I couldn't begin undergrad with a torn backpack, so I bought the one you see above. I actually ended up using a NorthFace backpack and another messenger bag I bought more frequently than this backpack, so it didn't quite get the level of use as my original LL Bean backpack. This one is coming in quite handy now, though. :)
These days, my backpack contains, at all times, my laptop (and it's various cords), books, a notebook, folders, my water bottle, and an umbrella. I have a super cute Nicole Miller handbag that everyone loves, but I don't get to carry it very often, thanks to how much other stuff I'm forced to lug around.
I have to be honest: as much as I love handbags, I hate carrying them. Contradictory, huh? I just hate having extra accoutrement for no reason. :) If I can get away with sticking my ID, my debit card and some cash in a pocket and going about my day, 9 times out of 10, I will. Don't get me wrong, I know when a handbag is more appropriate, but like I said, when I can get away with it, I prefer not to have something hanging off me.
Back to the backpack -- I got this for undergrad. It's an LL Bean backpack, and I got put on to LL Bean backpacks when I first began my new school in 8th grade. During a half-day I spent following a current student around, I noticed that everyone (and I do mean everyone) had an LL Bean backpack (I understand that these days, the kids at that school carry NorthFace backpacks). I just had to have one -- but they were super expensive and my mom couldn't afford to buy me one. 2 nights before school started, we stopped by one of her friend's houses, and out they came with the backpack I wanted, complete with my initials! I wore that backpack out -- by my senior year, the bottom was held together with duct tape. I didn't want a new one, though; I liked that one. It was cobalt blue and by the time I finally had to let it go, it was covered in white out from me writing quotes on it. I made it uniquely mine (because I quickly learned that the downside to going with the crowd on this one was finding your backpack in a sea of backpacks after chapel!)
I couldn't begin undergrad with a torn backpack, so I bought the one you see above. I actually ended up using a NorthFace backpack and another messenger bag I bought more frequently than this backpack, so it didn't quite get the level of use as my original LL Bean backpack. This one is coming in quite handy now, though. :)
11.14.2010
My Siblings
I'm my mother's only child, but my father has 8 other children besides me (I think a couple of them are step children). I had no idea he had other children (though I was aware he had gotten married...) until I was 14 and my cousin hipped me (accidentally she says, on purpose my mom says) to game.
Both of my parents are from a really small town in Alabama and a good portion of my family still lives there. My mom and I go back for Thanksgiving and 4th of July every year (almost every year, anyway) to spend time with family. One year, I spent an inordinate amount of time with two of my cousins (mother/daughter). My first cousin (the mother) is about 15 years older than me and her daughter is 2 years younger than me. As the day progressed, my older cousin kept saying "later on, we're going to go to Danielle's house..." I didn't think much of that because her sister's name is Danielle and she had just moved.
That night, we pulled up into the driveway of a home I'd never been to and where there clearly were a lot of people. As my cousin pulled her seat forward so I could get out, she suddenly said, "Oh, Ashley! I didn't even think to ask you, are you ok with us being here?" I looked at her funny and nodded my head. She paused again and said, "Wait, you do know who Danielle is, right?" I gave her another funny look and her eyes got wide as she said, "oh no! Danielle is your sister! You didn't know that?"
I was a little scared as we walked into the house and downstairs. When I came into the room, a woman who kinda looked like me shouted my name and smiled broadly. Another woman sitting next to her smiled as well. Turns out they were both my half-sisters. Both about 15 years older than me. They also knew everything about me. Knew what grade I was in, what kind of grades I was making, knew that I was fairly smart and they both immediately started talking to me about what I should pledge when I got to college ;) (<--- story for another day, but let's just say my junior year in college I got a STERN talking to about my failure to do what I was told...)
One of them had just had a baby girl a few days prior. She was so precious and hearing "Aunt Ashley" was very wierd.
When my cousin brought me back to my uncle's house where my mom and I were staying, later that night, she admonished me not to say anything to my mother about it. Clearly, however, I had to know why she'd never told me. These girls (and, it turns out, most of my father's other kids) had long been born when I came around. She had to know about them. My mother never explained it more than to say she just didn't want me to know. She focused more on being upset that my cousin had told me without her permission.
I kept in touch with those 2 for a few months. These days, I only speak to one of them, and that's pretty infrequently. Mostly just on her birthday because it's 2 days before mine.
What was most interesting was how I'd always wanted older sisters. My older cousins (one, especially) were ok stand-ins. Actually, they were excellent stand-ins, but for the first few months after I met them, it was really cool to say I actually had older sisters. These days, I rarely talk about them, unless someone specifically asks if I have siblings (and even then, I'm most likely to just say no -- not everyone needs to know, right?)
One last interesting fact: one of my half-sisters' mom's married a distant cousin of my mother's. As a result, she is not only my half-sister, but also a half- step-cousin... SMH... gotta love small towns.
Both of my parents are from a really small town in Alabama and a good portion of my family still lives there. My mom and I go back for Thanksgiving and 4th of July every year (almost every year, anyway) to spend time with family. One year, I spent an inordinate amount of time with two of my cousins (mother/daughter). My first cousin (the mother) is about 15 years older than me and her daughter is 2 years younger than me. As the day progressed, my older cousin kept saying "later on, we're going to go to Danielle's house..." I didn't think much of that because her sister's name is Danielle and she had just moved.
That night, we pulled up into the driveway of a home I'd never been to and where there clearly were a lot of people. As my cousin pulled her seat forward so I could get out, she suddenly said, "Oh, Ashley! I didn't even think to ask you, are you ok with us being here?" I looked at her funny and nodded my head. She paused again and said, "Wait, you do know who Danielle is, right?" I gave her another funny look and her eyes got wide as she said, "oh no! Danielle is your sister! You didn't know that?"
I was a little scared as we walked into the house and downstairs. When I came into the room, a woman who kinda looked like me shouted my name and smiled broadly. Another woman sitting next to her smiled as well. Turns out they were both my half-sisters. Both about 15 years older than me. They also knew everything about me. Knew what grade I was in, what kind of grades I was making, knew that I was fairly smart and they both immediately started talking to me about what I should pledge when I got to college ;) (<--- story for another day, but let's just say my junior year in college I got a STERN talking to about my failure to do what I was told...)
One of them had just had a baby girl a few days prior. She was so precious and hearing "Aunt Ashley" was very wierd.
When my cousin brought me back to my uncle's house where my mom and I were staying, later that night, she admonished me not to say anything to my mother about it. Clearly, however, I had to know why she'd never told me. These girls (and, it turns out, most of my father's other kids) had long been born when I came around. She had to know about them. My mother never explained it more than to say she just didn't want me to know. She focused more on being upset that my cousin had told me without her permission.
I kept in touch with those 2 for a few months. These days, I only speak to one of them, and that's pretty infrequently. Mostly just on her birthday because it's 2 days before mine.
What was most interesting was how I'd always wanted older sisters. My older cousins (one, especially) were ok stand-ins. Actually, they were excellent stand-ins, but for the first few months after I met them, it was really cool to say I actually had older sisters. These days, I rarely talk about them, unless someone specifically asks if I have siblings (and even then, I'm most likely to just say no -- not everyone needs to know, right?)
One last interesting fact: one of my half-sisters' mom's married a distant cousin of my mother's. As a result, she is not only my half-sister, but also a half- step-cousin... SMH... gotta love small towns.
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