There's really not much more to say here, as anything mildly interesting is either down below or written in my Armadillo section above.
Hope you can relate to some of my thoughts and situations, even if they tend to be strange sometimes
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
I never knew who I'd end up with growing up. I wasn't too concerned with marriage at such a young age. I liked a boy or two in my class, but never exactly thought of long-term outside the crush-spectrum. But was I actually expected to marry one of these guys?! Truly they must have been kidding!! Outside of cute eyes and smiles, and mild personality and intelligence, they didn't have much I wanted to be apart of. Nor where they especially kind to me. The kind of kindness you pity the weird girl with. (Now that I see what these guys have become, I think how lucky I am to have dodged quite a bullet)
But as I became older and got interested in long term things; my education and career, I thought of who I'd want to end up with later on. I knew I wanted to marry a guy who could cook. I loved to bake and knew I was going to go to school for it, so, naturally, I knew I'd meet my husband in college.
And that pretty much satisfied me. Satisfied me from middle school to college. I didn't date (what guy would want the awkward looking girl?) or even really talk to guys (the closest thing I got to a guy in high school were the tom boys in my all girl's school). I knew when I got to college, things would be different. I knew I'd grow into my awkwardness and grow out of my weird looks. I knew I'd find a guy who shared my interests and values. And to me, it made the most logical sence to not invest time and feelings into a relationship as immature as teenage ones that aren't gonna last. Why waste time on a guy in a relationship that was going to end in bitter heartbreak?
So, now I have him. A cook (an especially amazing cook), who's dead smart, sweet, funny, interesting, friendly, polite, understanding, motivated, gentlemanly; all the things a girl could want. Except for the suspecting feeling my family doesn't think of him long term, like I do. I've been with him almost three years, and I'd like to be secure that my family actually approves of him.
I really don't know if they approve. Surely they must know I'm a nervous and neurotic wrek, and take teasing about my appearance, cooking, way of talking, and anything attached to me in general, very seriously. So when I get teased, and even worse, my sister gets to go on these little day trips with her boyfriend who haven't even been together half a year yet, I get a little annoyed.
Anyway. I just wish I knew. "Unfortunetly" I'm one of those girls who cares about what her family thinks of her and her siginificant other, and if there's even a smiggen of discontent, there's going to be problems down the road.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
I know I just posted, but I'm feeling chatty and nostalgic. So I'm reposting my very first post on my very first blog. Here's the original link
I’m awkward. Aren’t we all a little awkward? My clumsy way of speaking and acting around others is halting, driving me to live in my thoughts, to be quiet and exempt from the sociality of the world. I’m different in my mind: I’m lively, talkative, able to express my thoughts clear, I’m happy in my mind. I drift in and out of lectures, wrapped up warmly and comfortably with the thoughts I let float like clouds, without any direction.
But I wish I wasn’t so awkward. I wish I could be the person I am in my thoughts. The me in my mind is happy, or at least more able to express her feelings. I’m coherent, understood. I write because when I do, I become the person trapped in my head. Writing becomes an extension of myself. I express, I can verbalize, articulate exactly what I need to say. You would never hear me say the words I type in the ways I can write them. It’s just too difficult. I’m okay with that. Somehow, I’d rather be socially awkward, unpopular, and unhappy at times and be able to express very single thought clear on paper, then be popular and average.
I love to write. I’m constantly in my head, thinking lines that would develop into articles, blogs, ideas. I find myself scribbling down lines furiously in the margins of my lecture notes, desperate to hang on to that great sentence. I don’t just love to write, I need to. Writing is the only way I can make people understand me. I’m desperate to be understood and I feel this is the only way I can.
I think people who can speak slowly, and be understood, people who are popular and have large circle of friends, take all this for granted. I struggle to speak. I shake when I speak to someone, my words fumble together and I cringe, embarrassed and ashamed, feeling like a child. I feel stuck inside myself. I’m dying to get out, break free of my disorder (I have NF, but that’s another blog) and express myself. But, as I said, if this is the only way I can get through, to make myself heard, then so be it.
I don’t know how much this will be read, if at all, but that’s okay. I’m happy to type my feelings as a way to get my feelings out. I have mood problems, it’s hard for me to control them and communicate them. What happened to me? I was easy going, happy, energetic, hyper, the little things about my disorder never really getting to me. Now I’m quiet, moody that is punctured occasionally with bouts of the above emotions. Hopefully, eventually, things will be different. Until then, I try hard to control my emotions, be happier, and work hard at making myself better. I guess I don’t mind being awkward much afterall.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
This feels weird and mildly awkward, but I think I'm okay with that.
Another holiday post. Valentine's Day is such an odd holiday. Everyone views it differently. People expect day long flutters of romantic feelings, some expect chocolate, others diamond rings or jewelry...others hate it.
Valentine's Day was always a fun thing at my house, we would go out for dinner usually, siblings and I would get a small box of candy and some other kind of small things to acknowledge the day...no big deal. Just a day to make a special effort to show people you care for them. So when my boyfriend asked me “So what do you want for Valentine's Day?” I was mildly appalled, and turned to lecture him. Is it my birthday? Is it Christmas? Anniversary? So why is he asking me what I'd like? I didn't think Valentine's Day was a holiday to get something you want. I'm happy with some form of chocolate, a decent meal together and just a relatively nice day. I don't think it's low expectations, it's logical. Giving someone a car or a phone for Valentine's Day is just...another example how it is a consumer driven holiday. Some woman expect way too much. Hundreds of dollars spent on some sort of thing...makes them seem a little high maintenance. A card, chocolate or flowers are more than enough to acknowledge the day, and we should be happy with it and appreciate it. There's so much pressure to get the holiday right. Last Valentine's Day was the very first with a boyfriend. We'd met the Valentine's Day before, at an Anti-Valentine's Day (but that's another story), so while it would be a year that we met, we weren't one to celebrate every teeny “anniversary” together.
We had a blizzard and the first snow day in ten years at school, so everything was shut down. Any plans for dinner together up at school was spoiled. I had made chocolate lava cakes, had gotten him a box of chocolates I had customized at a Russel Stover site, and we got dinner at the Rec Center Cafe. I remember he gave me a good bar of chocolate, possibly a few other cute small things, and that was all I really needed. You shouldn't go too crazy on the 14th.
I think people who hate view it wrong. I grew up thinking you didn't need some kind of boyfriend to have Valentine's. It was one of the best days of the year in class- cupcakes, candy, fun cards (for everyone, of course), you got a box of chocolate from at least one family member, we went out for dinner- which was always a treat, some cards, silly Valentines cartoons. An all around fun day to show silly forms of affection for people. Now I guess it's just an excuse to have a date. If you are single, it's a day to send flowers and cards to friends, and call home, I don't know why it's so hated. I don't think I ever hated it, just mild jealousy when I saw girls have flowers and such. The anti-Valentine's Day party where I met my boyfriend was just because my classmate was hosting it as her R.A event and I wanted to go support her. That was two years ago! Insane.
V-day is what you make of it. If you want to be miserable, that's your choice. But you're missing out on a day that can be fun. You can be happy and still be single on Valentine's Day....anyone who tells you otherwise is just single and miserable, or taken and rubbing it in your face."
Today: As in Oct 16h, 2008
Check out my old stuff on my blogs, too. I don't write this for my health, ya know!