Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Read

It never ceases to amaze me how different some people can be.

It's very interesting to analyze our personality similarities and differences against those people we have been friends with our entire lives. It's an interesting dynamic in comparrison to newer friends. I've gone off to university and made plenty of friends based on common interests or social circles. We know we have things in common. I've met a lot of people in my program. I've met a lot of people through church or around the area.

Then I come home, post graduation and hit this weird state of elasticity. I feel as if my heart is stretched between both places moreso now than ever before. My heart is here, Home, the place I was raised, the house I've lived in as long as I can remember. Here is where my church is that I have attended since the first grade, where I met my best friends. This is where the three of them live, and of course my family.

But there, there is home too. There is the opposite, its the most "city" I've ever known. I love being able to walk places, all the time, everywhere. My poor car only leaves the lane if I'm on a time crunch or are uncertain of which buses take me. Generally, I walk. I look around, I discover newness everywhere. Also I have those friends, those wonderful friends I've made out of necessity, they fill a need in my life, a need that is now a void, now that I'm back here.

Don't take me wrong, I love my best friends for a reason. Because I know they will always be my best friends, no matter where I go. But there's a void in our personality differences that is sometimes difficult.

Case in point: I went over to my all time best friends house last night, you know, the home that's your home, the parents that are your parents, the brother that is your brother. That kind of home. My best friend admitted to me the other day (and I cant believe I'd never really noticed) that she had read one book in her entire life. Now, I'm an english major, I buy books like they are going out of style. I'd rather buy books than food. I went to a used bookstore twice in a week and spent more than 50 both visits, and this is a USED bookstore people, that means they cost like 10 at the most. yup.

So I decided I was going to get her reading. She admitted to me, "I just dont know which books to read". Which I think may be true of everyone who says they dont like to read, they just dont know the right books. So I went through my hideaways of books, in my bedroom at least, in my tv table, on my dressers, on the tiny bookshelf, in the closet, under the bed (I have lots of books) and pulled out 5 for her. We will see how they go. Also, the one book she'd ever read I recommended for her highschool ISU.

We went back to her house and I told her parents that I had gotten her reading to which they admitted they too never ever read. Excuse me? You are adults, you should know better. Her mother said, "I'll read something educational, but fiction is a waste of time". I think everyone can see the fallacy in this statement. There is never a time when you are reading and not learning, unless of course you are reading twilight. You know what, I may even be at the point where I'd make the statement I'd rather a person read twilight than not read at all. Weird.

But my point is, you break my heart when you say you don't read because it's boring or you don't learn anything or it's a waste of time. Find a book, there's a book out there for everyone, a style, an author, a genre that will peak your interest and teach you and engage you in ways other mediums can't. Read.

Friday, June 18, 2010

Sizes.

I swear we buy and wear clothes as if the label is printed in large bold letters repeatedly all over the item. We are so caught up in sizes that people wear clothes that they've clearly had to fight to get into, with flesh attempting to escape in any way possible. But the important part is that it said SM on the tag. Or it was a smaller number! Only we know of course but doesn't it feel good.

Well let me tell you, it doesn't look good.

I never thought about how ridiculous this way. I guess it has something to do with our cultures "ability" to shape our bodies and change them when we are less than satisfied. Because let's remember the parts of our bodies that cannot be changed. We have no problem with size shifting there.

Let me tell you the story.

So I was trying on shoes today, my size is about a 6-7 range. I tend to wear a 6.5, which is fairly small on average (the only thing I'd label as "small" on my body) and I found the 6 was WAY too tight. They are cute little sandals, a nice brown leather with turqouise beading, but they were too tight or something on the widest part of my foot. So I tried on the 7, same problem. I had to purchase an 8, AN EIGHT! I have never worn an 8 in my LIFE. Oh the outrage, Oh the horror, Oh the SHOCK! The diet starts immediately, let me tell you...

Oh wait. It's feet. Feet can't be changed. It is what it is. My feet are just wider in spots, thinner in others, really high arches and a second toe that curves along the way. But I love my feet. Size is just a number, I just had to keep trying on pairs until one fit. FIT. This is the key word, not Small, Medium or Large OR 7, 8, or 9. But fit.

Our bodies are our bodies. They are all different, size is just relative. You will always be smaller than someone else, larger than someone else. It just is what it is. Love your body, buy clothes that fit.

That's all I ask.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

There are certain things you learn by stumbling across them. One of those is allergies.

Something I recently learned I was allergic to is Tide to Go pens. I had dropped half a cherry on my white shirt, so I used the pen, which I ALWAYS use, without thinking twice. I left the house right after. Not long after my stomach felt very ichy, I lifted my shirt to see a massive red patch of tiny dots right where I'd used the pen.

Still, to this day, nearly a week later, a little red line of dots exists.

Interesting.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

I've come to acknowledge that I have a need to create.

I wonder if this rings true for most? The more I observe the more I understand that it may just be a select few of us.

Creating can come in many forms, situation specific. For me it can include writing, painting, cooking. I'd also like to include things like exercise, swimming and dancing into the mix, though these things don't exactly have a physical, tangible finished "product" I still feel whole and as if I'm expressing myself.

I need to create to live. I get feeling so blah and stuck in a rut. I spend life ticking the things off my daily checklist and go to bed unsatisfied. Somehow, reading and writing- things I would easily qualify as my favourite in terms of interests- always get shoved to the bottom of my to do list. Groceries, cleaning, laundry, all these things, things I don't want to do and therefore take more time, come first.

Yesterday I dedicated my day to creative endeavours. I painted, I explored, I read, I cooked. But I also realized this is something I'm doing for me and others may not understand. It's a me moment. This harsh realization came about when an unnamed person (because I really do love this person but hated them in this moment) came upon me painting and used that terrible terrible diminuitive and dismissive word when he/she said, "Oh, that's cute."

Side Note: Cute is a terrible word. You may use it for people's babies or small puppies or something of the like, but just as a rule of thumb, don't use it. It does no good.

Oh, and then he/she continued to talk to me and stare at me while I painted. Can't you see I'm doing ME?! Apparently not. But that's okay. Let it go, right? People won't always get it. I think I'm okay with that.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

I did it. I graduated.

I went through such a wave of emotion the day before. Some would describe me as dramatic or melodramatic, I just say I like to engage my emotions to their full potentials.

So the day before my grad started with me refusing to do it, calling it off, dragging my heels, and ended with me doing happy little "im graduating tomorrow" dances on the sidewalk.

I couldn't sleep the night before. The anticipation was killing me. I'd also tried to range of "convocation isn't that big of a deal, all it is is walking across and stage, shaking hands, and getting a peice of paper" to "this is a big deal, it's quite an achievement to graduate from university, many don't".

I didn't want to make anyone from home come a long distance for it, I know they all love and support me fully- other than my parents and brother of course, they HAD to be there. My 3 besties on the other hand, not making them come. So instead I insisted my local favourites attend.

It was overall a great day. It was an overwhelming feeling and realization. I did it. I got to wear a pretty dress and heels, have my picture taken, and a bunch of my favourite people together.

It's important we take time to celebrate successes, and remind one another just how proud we are of our achievements.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

I'm officially graduating university in two weeks. It's a scary thought.

At my last graduation, when I was 17 years old, I couldn't believe how old 21 sounded. Now that I'm here I don't feel that old at all.

But, the thing about these transitional moments is it facilitates a true moment of reflection. Looking back I'm glad I did it the way I did, my university experience. But, if I had a do over, I'd like to discuss the things I'd change.

1) Get more involved, meet more people.

I got discouraged early with how to present myself to others, and where to meet people. I had this misconstrued notion that the only way to meet people was to go out drinking. I just didn't know how to conduct myself in that manner. In truth I've met many people in my senior year and I'm glad. I wish I'd known where to look for them long ago.

2) Ask for help.

This is a big one. As I've struggled since my first year to dig my GPA out of the rut caused by a poor first year I keep thinking, if only I'd swallowed my pride and fear and approached one of the many resources available. In high school work came easy. In university, not so much. I failed french in first year and have far too many Cs on my transcript. Professors and TAs are there to teach, ask for help, attend office hours, if only for the social networking aspect. Show your educators respect, they deserve it.

3) Be smarter with my finances.

Though the financial debt of university is a big one, I see coming out of university many more big debts coming in my future. I wish I hadn't been so frivilous with my money. I thought, since I wasn't the typical university student, spending rediculous amounts on alcohol, that I'd just be fine. I was wrong, I spent money poorl. Just recently I've learned smarter alternatives.

FOOD: I need to stop eating out as often. It's not healthy, and it's expensive. I should reserve outings for special occasions. Buy the essential groceries and watch how long they last.

CLOTHES: The mall has such a strong appeal to me, I love the new. Recently I've learned to knack to thrift store shopping. So much cheaper, and hey- its cool and unique clothes. Previously loved, fabric with a story, my kind of thing.

ENTERTAINMENT: Let's face it, the movies have gotten expensive! Even rentals are fairly pricey. The local library has movies for free, this goes for books too. I spend too much on books, even if I'm spending it at my most favourite used book store- not as often.
I love being outside, why not spend a day in the park. Every time I go it's something different, I see something new, I go with a different friend, at a different time of day. Sometimes for a run, a quick walk, tanning, writing. There are so many activities and I'd say every city has some sort of a park.

These are things I've learned late in life, you could say. My university experience was one to cherish in every aspect. I can't help but think, this is just the beginning...

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

An important lesson to learn in life is how to laugh at ourselves and our misfortunes.

Yesterday was a big day for me, I made the hour and a half drive to my new school to look at a place to live and to tour the school, familiarize myself with it so that the first-day-getting-lost-without-pants-on dreams will be kept at a minimum. I found a place I loved and when we returned my dear friend and I decided to do something good for our bodies and go play tennis at a local highschool.

Turns out 2 of the 4 courts were being used, so that the two free ones were either in between two matches or beside one. Either way, she and I will both admit we are not overly skilled in the game of tennis and knew playing in either of the courts would disrupt the other games rather often.

So we decided to run the track.

Running the track is easy. Remember highschool? The 12 minute run? I believe 4 was a minimum in order to pass so obviously a lap or two would be easy. Well, I would admit I'm a little competitive, so as many laps as my close friend did, I also had to do. We ended up doing 4 total. At the time I felt like I was in highschool again.

And let me just preface this comment and say that in highschool I was not athletic. I was awkward, I had a body I hadn't learned how to maneuver quite yet. So I only did gym in grade 9 and the only people slower than me in running were the injured.

Since highschool I've learned to love my body, and treat it well. I've also taken up running, SO- I thought, I should be able to outdo my highschool self and love life at the same time. And I certainly did love it as I did it.

Today, my body is saying something different.

But that could also be because last night my legs decided to rebel and not take the steps as they should, catapulting my body in a rolling downward motion, limbs every which way. Once I reached the bottom and tried to unravel my twisted body I realized I could not stand, my ankles wouldn't allow it, so I dragged myself to my room and fell asleep on my floor.

This is why today my body is aching in pain, a combination of athletic feats I can't achieve anymore (not without practice anyway) and clumsy attempts at taking stairs.

But writing this blog I laughed pretty hard picturing last nights ordeal again and I hope you find humour in it as well. Laughter certainly is the best medicine.