it’s all about me
Balance
Aug 30th
For a really long time, my life has been way off balance. It’s been off balance for so long, in fact, that off balance feels natural and normal. Off balance is a comfort.
Lately, I’ve been trying to find more balance. It actually all started with finally being a mature individual with a budget.
I’ve kept a clean apartment, so it’s not a mad dash to pick things up when someone is coming over. Also, it’s just nice to come home to a clean apartment. I never really knew this would make such a difference, but it’s incredible how awesome it is to get into a bed that’s made. Walking into a closet full of clean clothes on, all on hangers, is also really nice.
I’ve been trying to eat better, though so far I haven’t made many changes. Which is why I’ve decided to go vegan again on September 1st. This time I’m going to try it for two months, instead of one. Since I’ve been so successful at forming new cleaning habits (so far), I’m hoping that this will help me establish some new eating habits.
If someone could get me to the gym, that would be great. I miss rock climbing, but I’ve decided to find something more martial arts/self-defense related for now. I loved Jiu Jitsu when I took it last summer. It’s expensive, but probably worth it. This time, though, I’d like to start with something that’s straight up self-defense. I can’t wait to get back to the climbing wall, though. I just need to get myself in a bit better shape. Feeling strong, physically, is very important right now. And I don’t feel strong.
Relationships, as always, have been the hardest for me. Finding a balance in relationships with friends and family is more difficult than I thought. Adding other people into the mix just complicates things. I usually have a lot trouble with family, much to my mother’s dismay. I can’t seem to explain to her the WHY, though. A couple of week’s ago, we had lunch, because I wanted to talk to her about the trouble I’ve been having with this whole “selling myself as a writer” thing. During lunch, I got the requisite lecture about how “distant” I am with family and about how she wishes my sister and I were closer. “Because, at the end of the day, family is all you have.”
I hate that statement. It’s just not even true. Plus, I love my sister and I would absolutely be there for her if she needed me (which…she just doesn’t). I just don’t really feel the need to talk to her everyday (not to mention she never bothers to return phone calls or emails, which makes me less inclined to even bother). We don’t have very much in common, and honestly, it’s just easier and less stressful if we don’t talk a lot. And my conservative Christian grandparents? Yeah, I just…can’t. My Nana is probably the most self-absorbed person on the planet; my Pops, while sweet, comes with a side of Nana. Also, we don’t agree on anything, so it’s hard to make conversation. Which just means that for the entirety of the interaction, I feel uncomfortable and on-edge.
My dad’s parents are easier, but they live in Tennessee. The older I get, though, the harder it is to sit around and take the lectures about conservative politics and the evil homosexual agenda. I’m expected to respect them and their beliefs (and to hold my tongue), while they hold no respect for me or mine, simply because they’re older. It’s a concept I find difficult, to say the least. So rather than put myself in the position of being uncomfortable, I just avoid the situation as much as possible.
Friends should be easier, because you get to choose your friends. That hasn’t really been the case for me lately, though. Let’s just say, this is a work in progress.
As for more intimate or romantic relationships, this is where I struggle the most. As a person with a very strong sense of self, I know I have to make some compromises, if I’m ever going to let myself get close to someone again. But I don’t want to lose myself or put myself on the back-burner, either. I do that too easily, mostly because I know that I’m strong and I’m tough and I will be okay. The truth is, though, I won’t be okay if I lose myself to be with someone else. My problem is striking a balance between knowing when to hold my ground and when it’s okay to compromise. It can’t be my way or the highway, but it can’t be “whatever you need,” either.
At the end of my last long(ish) relationship, I came up with a list of ways I had felt in that relationship that I will never feel in a relationship again. These are, as they say, the deal-breakers. The things are the list on broad enough in concept that they can be applied to any relationship, with any other human.
Rather than make a list of the qualities I want to find in a partner (as in that atrocious Hallmark movie I watched last night), I think this is a healthy thing to do at the end of a relationship. Particularly one that ended poorly. This is simply a list of warning signs. If I feel this way because of someone else’s actions or words again, I will hopefully be much more likely to walk away.
The one where I skip turning into my mother and turn into my grandmother instead. But with a better sense of direction.
Aug 19th
This weekend, I finally cleaned my apartment (I took pictures, but SOME people made fun of me for it, so I’m not posting them). It’s possibly more organized now than it’s been since I’ve lived there.
I collected nine trash bags of clothes for Goodwill (getting them TO Goodwill is a completely separate issue). NINE. Just think about that. I had nine trash bags worth of clothes in my closet that I didn’t even want. Moreover, I gave away half my clothes when I moved into this apartment, so this was mostly stuff I had collected in the last year and a half.
This led me to create a new rule. The shopping rule: I will not purchase new things (other than large, necessary purchases) without getting rid of something of approximately equal value. Except books. (I mean, let’s be realistic.)
I also have a bag of shoes to donate. The shoe rule is this: If the shoes do not fit on the shelves where the shoes live (except boots, which don’t fit because they’re too tall), I must get rid of some shoes.
Clearly I haven’t been following the shoe rule very closely. Mostly because there were just shoes everywhere.
So now my apartment has been clean since Saturday(ish). There hasn’t been a dish in my sink or a misplaced item of clothing since then. I have gotten up early every morning. I have made my bed every morning. Yes, you read that correctly. I have MADE MY BED. I’m a firm believer that there is absolutely no point in making your bed, and yet…I feel better when it’s made. It’s like a magic fairy has come and made my room slightly more like a hotel. Except that my bed broke in the last move, so all I have is a mattress on the floor (and also I am the magic fairy).
(Cooper is far less cute while I’m trying to make the bed, since he spends his time being in my way and trying to unmake the bed. He’s a hooker-faced asshat sometimes.)
In other news, my bed really isn’t half bad. Having not seen it in six months or so, I had kind of forgotten. Also, my desk? That fucker is adorable. Who knew? It’s been covered in stuff for a while, even when everything else got picked up.
Every morning this week, I have woken up at 6:30 am or earlier, made myself some tea, and read the news while eating a banana. I have had time to get ready for work. My clothes match. My hair has been brushed. My face has been washed. I’ve done some writing. I’ve spent time with Cooper.
So why the change?
You know, I couldn’t really say, except that I think I’ve finally decided maybe it’s time to get my shit together. I’m 30, after all. I’ve trimmed some figurative fat from my life. The literal fat is still there, but I’m working on it, too.
I think maybe I was just finally pushed too far; mostly by people: people who lie, people who stop being there when you actually might need them, people who expect you to be something you’re not just to make their lives easier, people who live to stir up drama and make a big deal out of things that are not. I feel like it’s time to take control and be the person I know I can be, instead of just the awesome, funny, charming person I am. Right?
Here’s the deal, though. If, in a few weeks, you guys have noticed that the only things I ever talk about any more are calories and Jesus? You’ll know that I have, in fact, turned into my Grandmother. That would be the time to intervene, okay? I’ve seen this in action, and it’s not pretty.
And now it’s time for a breakdown.
Aug 17th
Ah, En Vogue, you make me so happy. I will, indeed, free my mind.
Okay, so last week, I had a bit of a crisis. In which I almost shut my blog down. I’m not telling you this to get your attention or force you to compliment me. I’m just telling you because I’m telling you.
I feel like a different woman than the one who started this blog, in a lot of ways. The same, but different. Interestingly, when I started this blog, I was, for all intents and purposes, in a really bad place. A couple of months ago, I found myself in a really bad place again, for a slightly different (and various) reasons. There wasn’t a lot of funny in me for a while.
I’m not sure if the funny is back or not, but I find myself passionate about serious things. And I want to write about these serious things. The question is, do those passions really fit on this blog?
I never found a schtick. I never said, “This. THIS is what my blog will be about.” It was always just supposed to be my stories. My observations of daily life. My adventures while navigating my way through this fucked up thing.
There were to be curse words and inappropriate stories and rants and sarcasm. And I think those things are still here.
I think, though, that there’s a disconnect between the way I’m expressing myself, and the way people perceive that expression. That will probably always be true, but I used to pride myself on being a good communicator, if nothing else. Now, I’m not so sure.
It seems that all I’m communicating lately is that I’m angry. And I’m actually not angry (I mean, sure, I’m angry about some things…aren’t you? But I’m not an angry person). I can tell you that I’m more than a little sad, I’m very tired (mostly of people), and well…the last few months have done nothing for my cynicism.
There will always be people who think that anyone (and particularly any woman) who has an opinion and expresses it passionately is angry. I can accept that. It’s just a problem when people who are supposed to be my friends, people who are supposed to know me and care about me, simply see anger and negativity because I don’t subscribe to the same bullshit fake happy that they do, or because I am passionate about certain issues.
One of my friends told me recently(ish) during a conversation about men and relationships, “Yeah, I don’t ever want to be the way you are about this stuff.”
Ouch? Nah. Don’t be like me. The sad thing is, I don’t even think she knows what “like me” is. Because I tell her to be careful and be cautious with someone who has broken her heart over and over, I am negative and a “man-hater.”
The truth is? I’m actually much less negative about men than my happy, sunshine, rainbow counterparts. Yes, I’ve had bad experiences, but I’ve had good ones, too. I choose to approach new people and new relationships with a certain amount of caution, because frankly, I’m not stupid. Does that mean that I won’t give someone a chance? I think if you read the archives of this blog, you will find that I do, in fact, give plenty of people a chance. But there are certain things I simply will no longer abide (face licking and maternal fellatio being two of them). If that makes me a negative man-hater, so be it.
(Wait. Oh dear, “maternal fellatio” isn’t…well, fuck it. You either know what I’m talking about or you don’t.)
Moreover, if the fact that I choose to be careful with my heart and not give everything to people who may not deserve it makes me those things, I’m okay with that. I’m picky. I’m picky because in the past, I wasn’t so picky. That never turned out well.
I am a feminist, but that doesn’t mean that I dismiss the opinions of men just because they’re men (this is something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately). I don’t really listen to opinions that I find to be irrational or unintelligent, and it doesn’t matter who has those opinions.
My way isn’t the only way. Neither is yours. Understand that this is a BLOG and sometimes it’s easier and/or more entertaining to rant about something or exaggerate a little for effect. I’m not writing the news, here. Hell, I’m pretty sure no one is writing the news any more.
I guess all of that is to say that I decided not to shut down my blog. But I think I am going to add a separate page for the more serious topics. That way you can have a choice in whether or not you read them.
Femme Writes is something that is really important to me, and I don’t want the perception of me as someone who is angry and negative to affect people’s perception of the project as a whole. I think we’re doing something good. I think, at the very least, we’re starting a conversation. And while these first topics might seem daunting or you may not want to write about them, I think that we’re providing an excellent platform for those who want to to be able to share their stories and experiences. I expect and hope, like anything else, Femme Writes will grow and evolve through time.
Once I get the new page set up (I actually set up the subdomain ages ago, but I haven’t done anything with the page itself), I’ll let you guys know. If you want to take a look at it from time to time, feel free. I’m setting up a Twitter account to tweet about posts and such. Follow @seriouslyshiny if you’d like updates.
That being said, I’ll try to keep the posts on the regular page more light-hearted. Get back to my roots, maybe. But there will still be serious things that I think are deserving of being on Shine Out Loud.
/sadface
How to throw away underwear.
Aug 16th
I feel like I might have talked about this before. If I have, I’m mildly apologetic that I’m doing it again. A search for “underwear” in my archives brought up more posts than I was expecting and I didn’t feel like sorting through them.
So I have this problem. I can’t seem to get rid of old underwear.
You’re probably thinking this is completely ridiculous right about now, but it’s not.
Okay, maybe it is. But my Grandmother has the same problem. And you can shut your whore mouth before you make fun of my Grandmother.
The problem is this: I don’t want to throw out dirty underwear (because ew), but if I wash it, I usually just put it away without thinking and then I end up wearing it again. Rinse and repeat. Ad nauseum.
It’s a vicious cycle and I’m tired of it.
I need a new plan, people. How do you get rid of your old underwear?
You should probably understand that I have more underwear than a sultan has concubines. And no, I’m never ever getting rid of my knee socks.
Rather than a breakup, I have a conundrum.
Jul 30th
One of my friends is getting married in September. She’s a friend I met through my ex-boyfriend (they’ve known each other a few months longer). An ex-boyfriend I’m none to fond of. I’m invited to the wedding, but I’ve been told the whole time that he (and his new girlfriend) are not invited. I’ve been planning to go since about April.
Today, said friend emailed me to let me know that she is now, in fact, inviting my ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend to her wedding, but she hopes that I’ll still come. And while that’s great and it’s her day and I want her to be happy, spending a weekend in the middle of nowhere (and somewhere we actually spent a weekend TOGETHER once) trapped with my ex and his girlfriend isn’t exactly my idea of a good time, you know?
My friend does sometimes read my blog (sorry, friend, I’m not trying to make you feel bad, I swear. It’s your wedding and you have to do what’s going to make you the happiest), so there’s a chance she’ll read this. Hence the vague.
My question is this: Do I suck it up and go spend the weekend with my ex, who is likely to be a drunken asshole? Or is it fair to say that I now can’t come because the conditions under which I accepted the invitation have been changed?
I won’t lie, part of me is a little bit hurt by this, but I think I understand what happened. Ex’s new girlfriend isn’t an asshole, even if Ex is (and everyone knows it), and my friend has become actual friends with her. I would never ever tell her that she shouldn’t have her friend at her wedding. This is my issue, not hers.
So in the end, I’m the one with a decision to make. I can almost guarantee that if I go to this wedding, it will not be good for me. I will survive, yes, but I’m not sure I really want to put myself through it. And I can almost tell you with certainty that he doesn’t want to be around me any more than I want to be around him. This is a person who broke me. Who changed everything (for me, nothing changed for him). A person I loved more deeply than nearly anyone in my life, and who hurt me more than nearly anyone in my life ever has. A person who could discard me just as easily as he gets rid of the trash. And while I have no interest in being with him, I also have no interest in hanging out or being friendly.
I’m sure some of you will say that this means I’m not over it. There are some things about the relationship that I’m not over, actually. HE is not one of them, but there’s plenty of lasting damage from his actions. I’m on friendly terms with nearly everyone else I’ve ever dated, but I can’t imagine that he will ever be one of those. I spent a year and a half with the man, and never really noted him to be a good friend. There’s no reason to want to be friends with him.
And it’s not like this will just be a two-hour event and I can just avoid him. This is a wedding to be held at a campsite-type place in Arkansas. It will be a whole weekend. There will be drinking and partying and such. And being around him drunk is on my list of things I never want to do again. Ever.
Any advice?
