New Year

I haven't posted anything in awhile. Mostly it's due to a very busy few months, with starting a new job and trying to pull graduate school application materials together in time for their deadlines. I haven't even finished reading anything since reading The Giver back in October.

But it's also due to a lot of other stuff.

The only thing worse than the quarter-life crisis is depression on top of the quarter-life crisis--and hell, it might even be the same thing. My grandfather passed away the day I started my current job, and since then, I've been in a bit of a funk. Much of November was spent in grief and the stress from trying to get the hang of everything at work. By the beginning of December, I was finally getting things for grad school applications in order when a mild-health issue arose, which led to one of the longest weeks of my life.

On Christmas Eve and Christmas day, I was incredibly weepy. I thought a lot about holidays passed, feeling horrible that I wasn't with my grandmother and my aunt for the holiday and trying to be thankful that I was working full-time, a grand change from the unemployment of two months before.

Then came crunch time for applications and various apartment issues, which lead into the part of depression that included all the wrong kinds of self-peptalks:

How can you think you'd actually thrive in graduate school? Let's be real. You did, what, one day of Nanowrimo, and look how you've screwed yourself over. You're always on Tumblr or Facebook, wasting time. You will quit. You'll go into debt. You're a fool for thinking this is where you're meant to be. All you'll ever be is right where you are now: a fucking failure working a job paying minimum wage. You want to get out? Get real. You're too afraid to go anywhere. You're wasting your time.

And look at everyone else. They're settling down, with good jobs and families ever growing. When was the last time anyone looked at you? Everyone is always telling you to be confident, and you've failed at that just like everything else. You can't even properly change yourself. The one boyfriend you've had didn't even kiss you in the year and a half you were together. You want to know why that is? Because you're disgusting and you act weird. He told you you were too perfect. The ones you fancy will always be looking the other direction. You're a fake. Give it up, because you'll always be stuck. Alone. Remember: single forever. That was your superlative in the yearbook. You were so effing naive. 

Needless to say, I've been feeling incredibly inadequate as of late; too many complicated emotions with too much stress from too many directions. It's gotten to a point where I can't even remember how I was so wide-eyed and eager back after graduation. I feel lost.

I spent a couple days with Brandi, Leah, and Cassie last week when we went to see Lady Gaga again, and for four days I felt really positive about everything. I'd just finished turning in the applications, I was out of the Little Apple for a couple days, and the thrill of seeing Gaga live is always such a beautiful boost in happiness and positivity. Upon my return, however, the feelings came rushing back. I worried that I bored the other girls, that I said stupid things that made them hate me, that I annoyed them. On top of it, I realized a few weeks ago that the last time I'd seen my grandmother and my aunt was back at my grandfather's funeral.

At the moment, it doesn't feel as heavy as before, which I hope is a good sign. I even did a little writing this week--not a lot, but it's a start. I stopped by the library earlier today to pick out a couple books to read, and I'm trying to look forward toward the Sigma Tau Delta convention. I am a writer, and I'm trying desperately to make myself believe it again, because I'm worried that I've forgotten it.

But my birthday is on Monday, and I fear it's going to destroy me like it did last year (aside from the drag show we went to, which was a wonderful pick-me-up). Valentine's Day is coming up, too, and my attitude toward the holiday has changed dramatically in the last few years; I cried myself to sleep in the last two years because everything was too much. I'm trying not to let things overwhelm me.

Things will eventually look up. I know they will. But right now, at this moment, I just feel so unsure. It's like I don't know what I want anymore, though I know I do.

It comes down to trusting in the right words, but all I can find are the wrong ones.

Moments

When I was a junior in high school, we had an assignment in English class that required us to find a song that best represented any of the ideas of Transcendentalism. After going through all my CDs, I finally decided on "Parklife" by Blur, which to me best represented connecting to nature.* Jackie, one of my classmates, picked a song called "I Woke Up In A Car" by Something Corporate. I was so caught up in it, I had to ask her what the artist was and wrote it down in a margin in my notebook.

The song is really good. Some people might write it off as being too "emo" or [insert complaint here]. But honestly? It's a solid, well-written, well-produced track off of a strong album. I get annoyed with really particular classifications when it comes to music; music is far too diverse to allow for any accurate placement. Some songs pull from too many directions, and I really, really hate it when people use a song's "classification" as a reason against it, as if it's not worthy of our time because it falls into a certain category. But I digress.

I didn't get a copy of the song until shortly after my high school graduation, and since then I've listened to it over and over, repeating it on mixes and getting lost within its lyrics and musicianship and pure awesomeness.

I've been up and down over the last week. I've been trying to find ways of cheering myself up; I read Lola and the Boy Next Door over the weekend, and while I was cheered up reading it (because it's so, so good), I still cried at the end because it affected me so. I finished This Full House and loved it, but also cried at the end for different but related reasons. Work, as usual, provides me five hours daily to mull everything over. And over. And over. It's rough being inside one's head for too long. I was driving myself crazy. I hate finding myself in a funk; I have such a hard time pulling myself out of it.

"I Woke Up In A Car" came up on my iPod earlier tonight at work, and it must have hit me at just the right moment. The song talks about the joys of embracing the unknown, of finding peace with oneself in the moment. I don't know if I could survive without some kind of structure, but I like the idea of allowing myself liberation in the moment. I was reminded that the funk will lift.** The next couple years will be interesting, and will likely allow me these moments. And I'm so ready for them.

So, all in all, I'm not feeling 100% better. (I need Earl Grey.) But I am feeling marginally better.


*I remember obnoxiously singing along with it in class; if anyone reading this now happened to be in that hour, my apologies. I don't think I understood the difference between socially okay and socially obnoxious.

**I hate how sappy this sounds. *sigh*

Quick Thoughts, Glee 3x07, "I Kissed A Girl"

Okay. So as soon as the semester's over, I'm going to go more in depth with all the episodes I haven't been able to talk about yet. But for right now, this'll have to do.

I have a lot of love for last night's episode--and I am a firm believer that this season is kick-ass and each episode gets progressively better--but there are a few things I wasn't sure about among the things I adored.

First, linkage: Some really incredible thoughts on Santana and Beiste in relation to feminism, as well as a few more thoughts from Deconstructing Glee responding to Dorothy Snarker's thoughts, also regarding similar issues. And then, of course, SillyGleek guest-blogging on DG with what is essentially an open letter to the characters as of the end of the episode. Preach!

Some quick thoughts:

• I am a firm believer that despite the issues brought up in the first two links (with which I agree), Finn had his heart in the right place with the lesson. Finn is not an inconsiderate (insert adjective here) person. (This also goes for his outing of Santana.) He's 17/18 years old. He has flaws. I don't expect him to understand everything about the world at this point. He's slowly learning, and that's all I can hope for. Don't forget about how far he's come since Season 1. 
• Mike Chang is love. He was my favorite in the voting booth montage. 
• What the bloody hell is up with Puck's mohawk?! Did anyone else notice that it's long enough to part at the crown of his head?!
• I can't really wrap my head around Cooter and Sue's "history." Did anyone else find that out of the blue, or am I just slow at putting the pieces together? Mostly I'm frustrated because Coach Beiste a) deserves some kind of happiness but b) Cooter was kind of a douche to her and also because c) the points so beautifully stated in the tumblr post I linked to above. Don't let Beiste lose her awesomeness. Please. I beg you. 
• Mercedes....I pine for the time you and Kurt were BFFs. (I do think it's interesting that there is a kind of shift in the relationship, though. Friendships will change over the years.)
• SHELBY. WHY? SERIOUSLY. This is so messed up. *throws up hands* And while we're on the subject...
• PUCK. WTF IS GOING ON WITH YOU? And most especially, WHY DID YOU TELL QUINN?! UGH. Things are going to get worse. Remember Pacey Witter from Dawson's Creek? This is serious stuff.  
• I don't think I could ever hate Brittany in a million years. 
• Santana was especially cruel this episode. I wanted to smack her for her reaction to Kurt and Blaine singing to her. But...
• I also wanted to punch the guy who wanted to make her "normal." Society is messed up. If one considers the way that Kurt was bullied and mistreated, the way the world (or in this case, WMHS) is treating Santana is both similar and different, but just as awful. I was disgusted. Not cool, society. 
• Also, the scene in which Santana comes out to her abuela made me want to bawl my eyes out. I just want Santana to be happy and have the support she needs from the ones she loves. :(
• Rachel can be very frustrating sometimes, but I still love her as a character, and I was so proud that she admitted to Principal Figgins that she was the one to stuff the ballot box. 
• Kurt's voiceover in the voting booth: "If I lose, I don’t have a chance of getting into NYADA. It’s not fair. The difference between my dreams coming true and managing a Sonic Burger depends on how many people check a stupid box." This killed me. Sonic Burger... *cries* I hope you get in. And I agree with SillyGleek's guest post: you have a whole bunch of kick-ass credentials. Don't give up!! (More on this and Finn's similar concerns about the future at a later date. This is an important thread this season.)
• Kurt and Blaine this episode, from "Perfect" to their little moments. They're just so supportive and in tune with one another. I love them so much. Always and forever, they are amazing. <3 (I love SillyGleek's comments to Blaine. YES SO MUCH SO. Hehe.)

More as soon as I get the chance. It was a great episode.

Edit: Also, I hope Kurt knows that, if he is not accepted into NYADA, there are other options in NY and elsewhere. I just want him to find a place he can be happy and fulfill his dreams. You know? 

Little Known Fact #3

I am extremely self-concious about many things: my writing, my drawings, my "cartoon fingers" (as one of my best friends once affectionately called them), my social skills, etc. The thing I am most self-concious about, however, is my chubbiness and my weight.

When my grandparents (Dad's parents) were still alive and we would make our annual trip up to Michigan, there was one summer in which some local boys would come to the park just across the block from my grandparents' house and harass my sister and I. They yelled, "Chunk-EE, Chunky Soup!" at me. I had never met them before, and we were only ever in Michigan for a week or two each year.

There was at least one girl in my class in Junior High who consistently referred to me as "Heifer". Up until that time, I had been called "fat" or "fatso."

Almost every time I go shopping for clothes, some kind of disaster arises.

When I was in second grade, I really, really wanted to become a gymnast (as the Olympics were being held in Atlanta, GA that year). Mom had found a simple body suit-type thing that resembled a gymnastic unitard for me, and I was so thrilled to have something to practice my "sweet routines" in. I was so excited about this outfit that I put it on and ran down to our-neighbors'-down-the-block's house to show Audrey, the oldest girl of the family and the one I remember wanting to impress the most. She was sitting on the stoop of another neighbor's house with Amy, who was in high school. When I ran up to them, Audrey looked up at me, and burst out laughing.

"What?" I asked shyly, my face falling. "What's so funny?"

She doubled up even more, her blond ringlets framing her face. "Nothing--" she tried catching her breath--"The dog peed." I don't remember how Amy reacted. She seems to fade into the memory.

I think I knew in that moment that Audrey was lying.

When I walked into my boss's office earlier this evening to get a band-aid for my thumb, and stood there talking with her and one of my coworkers, my boss turned to me.

"Heather, you were doing so good on that diet you were on last year. You should get back on it. You were loosing all that weight..."

I clammed up and busied myself with trying to get the finger cot I'd pulled out of the first aid kit over the band-aid and the rest of my thumb.

"Is that a touchy subject?" she asked.

I sighed. "Yeah..."

She may not have meant it the way I took it. I don't know. My reaction, however, was truth: this single interchange and the little discussion that followed it made me want to curl up in a distant corner and cry.

A Two-Parter Ramble

I'm going to borrow a segue technique from John and Hank Green, the Vlogbrothers, who happen to be my favorite YouTube people (and the only ones I regularly watch). So, without further ado, this post comes in two parts.

Part One: Being Home


Last weekend was the first weekend since June that I was able to spend more than just 24 hours with my family. Heidi and I coordinated our visit so we'd have a weekend where all four of us (Heidi, Mom, Dad, and I) were in the same house. It was far too short of a weekend.

I'll be honest: I did not get a lot of homework done when I was home. For some reason, my motivation shuts off whenever I'm there, as if every visit is a vacation for me. The only thing I actually accomplished was watching online lectures for Art History, which I made my sister watch with me. She spent the entirety of them playing with Naomi, one of our cats, and playing on the Facebook Sims.

Regardless, the weekend was wonderful. Heidi and I watched a TON of movies:

• Wild Target, with Bill Nighy, Emily Blunt, and Rupert Grint. This movie is HILARIOUS. There's just something magical about British comedy that American comedy has a hard time living up to for me. Perhaps that's too cruel for me to say, but I really believe that. Now I just need to hunt down a copy for myself....
• Take Me Home Tonight with Topher Grace, Anna Faris, and Teresa Palmer. The movie was pretty funny, and I liked the touches of '80s culture included. Two things, though: first, I'm not a big fan of Dan Fogler (see above for a watered-down version of my thoughts on American comedy). Second, while I really appreciate what the movie's simple plot was trying to accomplish, I felt that Adventureland, which focuses on a similar kind of post-college state of wandering, was much more successful--and thorough in the journey of the protagonist--in conveying it. The holes in characters and the plot irritated me to no end. Overall, though, it was fun. I thought Topher Grace and Anna Faris topped themselves. 
• Jane Eyre, with Mia Wasikowska and Michael Fassbender. LOVE. I would cross oceans for this movie. No joke. 
• Crazy, Stupid, Love., with Steve Carrell and Julianne Moore. There were plenty of romantic comedy cliches, cheesy writing, and an almost completely predictable outcome for the characters. It was, however, very funny, and surprising at times. I loved Robbie, the son ("I love you. Please."); Jessica, the babysitter (her characterization/subplot was amazing); Hannah and Jacob's relationship (so funny and so tender, and it helps that I love both Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling). Little surprises all around. Plus, Josh Groban makes an appearance. 

The four of us took a mini-daytrip to Beatrice, where we scoured the $5 bin at Wal-Mart and returned with a large stack of bargain CDs between us. I met up with Maggie on Sunday for dinner to catch up with her and Emi, who's eyes are still as big and happy as they were when I saw her last at the end of May. She is adorable and I feel incredibly proud to be her godmother. Meanwhile, I joked around and talked music with Dad, spent time with Mom, filling her in on classes and such. Heidi and I cruised twice around town, blaring music from our iPods and pouring out our hearts about the things in our lives that were simultaneously important and heartbreaking in some form or another. There's something incredibly therapeutic about sharing this with my sister. I remember when Dad and his brother Rod would go cruising when we were little; there was a reason we were never allowed to join them--that was their time to share. Nothing but music, conversation, and honest heart-pouring. Those moments are special to me, more than I can put into words.

Part Two: Two Concerns and Many Feelings


First, I grow more and more wary of the future each day. I have no idea where I'll be at this time next year (and I feel the time swiftly slipping away from me). I do want to go to graduate school, but call it laziness or being too busy, I haven't looked into anything yet. There are so many feelings that I can't yet articulate, and I know I just have to push them and the worry aside and get the ball rolling so I don't waste any time. I know it will work out in the end. I mean, I do have time, and there are a few other things I've put on my educational bucket list (more travel, a writing fellowship, etc.) that are also on the timeline. I just need to sit down, make lists, prepare applications, take the GRE, and write.


Second, I noticed something when I was at dinner with Maggie on Sunday, and it's been hanging over my head since then, amplified from what it was before. I don't remember the exact train of our conversation or what prompted me to say it, but at one point, I made an off-hand comment that was along the lines of, "Well, if and when I ever get married and have kids..." Maggie, who was in the process of trying to keep Emi occupied (she was being fussy), laughed a little and looked up at me.

"You never know; if [so-and-so] got married, anyone can." Or something like that.

I feel like sometimes I let my cynicism about marriage get out of hand. No matter how hard I try to remain neutral concerning me and marriage, I feel like I always sound so bitter about it, as if I bring it up just so I can beat it to death over and over again, which is not my intention at all. It's not that I don't believe in it--because I really, really do--but part of me honestly feels like I won't ever get married, that God does not mean me to be.

Amanda gets really mad at me when I start talking like this. "God meant for you to be a mother," she says, speaking with a firm tone and looking me directly in the eye. "You have to have confidence in yourself. He has someone for you." My argument (which I feel is just as sound) is that maybe God does not have this planned for me, that I'm meant for something different. So, shouldn't I have trust that He knows what's best for me? Everything happens for a reason.

Thing is, I haven't dated in over four years. Most people my age are at a point where they are settling down. Facebook seems to magnify a pressure that doesn't really exist that I am desperately behind the times. I'm not socially comfortable enough to be able to use whatever "flirting protocol" is required to date, and of the two guys I had some sort of more-than-friends-type feelings for, one flat-out told me he'd never date me because I reminded him too much of his ex, and the other was only at K-State for a semester and I never understood what was going on with my relationship with him, anyway. When I go out to the bars with friends, I'm the one who stands just off to the side watching as my friends get hit on and the guys in question giving me that "Who are you?" look in the few times they break eye-contact with the object of their affection.

The last time I talked with Nate about dating, he suggested online dating sites. I shot down that idea almost immediately.

My ex-boyfriend (the only one I've had) told me four years ago that I was "too perfect." I'm still not sure what that had to do with our relationship and why we ended up in the mess we did.

My heart is much too invested in this complicated thing I've found myself in. And I have to understand that in no way am I supposed to find someone at this very moment; I have all the time in the world, if that is indeed what I'm meant to have in my life. Brandi, bless her heart, encourages me to embrace my single status (as, we joke, Jason Derulo does in the song). And I try. As I try to gain and maintain the confidence Amanda has urged me to find. Sometimes, though, the feelings get too heavy. I just wish things made more sense, sometimes. I can't spend the rest of my life dwelling on these things, you know?

So when my bitterness seemed to creep into my conversation with Maggie on Sunday, I felt awful that I ruined the mood of the conversation. I did not want her to think I was rude, or against anything related to it. It was just me, feeling too much, getting caught up in them and letting some slip away, becoming entangled in it.