So.....I suppose it's time to update the blogosphere on my comings and goings, since much has happened in the past three weeks. First, I unexpectedly found myself without my babysitting job when I got back from Alicia's graduation at the end of last month. Weird story. In fact, it took me a week or two to even realize what happened. But things have a funny way of working out. This week I started staff training for my new second job as a camp counselor for a day camp run by my church and the town (since the town is pretty much owned by the church, I guess they're pretty much interchangeable). I'll be working with children ages three and a half to seven for an hour and a half in the mornings starting next week. I'm pretty excited about it. After all, that is pretty much my favorite age group. And I'm in charge of teaching art on Tuesday. Since I am clearly a very artistic person, we're making paper chains (could you hear the sarcasm?). Our Bible story for the week is about Joseph's troubles though, so it's not like paper chains are that random, since he was sold into slavery and all.
Anyway, today was pretty awesome. I took a test on the brain structures and nerves, and got a 91 (which is a big deal for me, since it involved memorizing 50000000000000 terms and we all know how terrible my memory is). Then I went straight to staff training, where I got paid to play the game Forbidden Island, which is actually a pretty awesome game. If I ever get a job in social work, I'd probably buy this game to play with the kids. It's great for learning how to work together to get to a common goal. And our leader gave us popsicles. Did I mention I got paid for that?! Yeah.
And then Veronica and I made some phenom veggie burgers, inspired by Guy Fieri, topped with a spicy avocado dip that I saw on Down Home with the Neely's, with a side of sweet potato oven fries (also by the Neely's). I suppose this would be a good time to mention that Veronica is staying with me for the summer. Mom'll be coming to join our party in July, after she gets back from her missions trip to Africa. Random, I know.
Also, two weeks ago I started my Chem 101 class. Note to self: chemistry is kinda hard! Too much math involved for my liking. It's an online class though, so the quizzes have been okay so far. I may change my mind next week when I take my first exam. Speaking of next week, it's already the end of my first anatomy class! I can't believe how fast these past six weeks have gone. Never fear though, because the first week of July starts my second anatomy class AND a nutrition class. I'll definitely be really busy next month!
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
All is well with the world again :)
People have an intrinsic way of defining themselves that even they themselves are not always fully aware of. That is, until the label gets ripped away like a bandaid, leaving you exposed and naked-feeling, wishing you could have that label back. I've had this feeling many times since leaving high school. Then, I defined myself as a Christian girl, a musician, a lover of sailing and all things ocean-related, smart, and a future marine biologist, among other things. With the exception of the first label, most of these labels were ripped away all at once during my freshman year of college, when I stopped playing my instruments, didn't join the sailing team, and failed/dropped out of Bio 101.
Somehow, even though my entire life has been dominated by school, I never consciously gave myself the label of "student." Until I no longer was one. After I graduated last year and couldn't find a job, I started going stir-crazy. I didn't know what to do with myself in this big house by the sea all by my lonesome. I read books. I watched a lot of tv. I knit and quilt like there's no tomorrow. I worked. But I was missing something. I missed learning. I missed the uncomfortable feeling of your brain expanding to the bursting point with useless information.
Ah yes. I am a nerd. (That label never changed.)
But now the world feels right again! I started my Anatomy and Physiology I class last week, and I'm loving being back in a classroom. Strangely enough, even though I've always loved school, I've always hated the first day of classes. I hate how the professors always want to go around the room and "learn a bit about you." Or even worse, ask you to turn to your neighbor, learn a bit about them, and then report that to the rest of the class. It's silly, but knowing that's coming produces anxiety and dread similar to a woman tied to the railroad tracks, watching her demise chug towards her at high speed. This time around, I was so grateful to be back in the comforting environment of a classroom that I felt nothing but excitement that first day. And bonus--- the professor didn't expect anything more than a raised hand when he took attendance!
Life is good.
(And just in case you were wondering, yes I have already reverted to my slacker ways: I have a quiz tomorrow and a major test on Thursday and instead of hauling my lazy bum early to the open lab to study I'm sitting here cooking chicken and posting on my blog. What can I say? I work better under pressure. And now thanks to this upcoming test, I'll be able to tell you the name of all my skull bones as they explode from trying to cram too much information in my brain!)
Somehow, even though my entire life has been dominated by school, I never consciously gave myself the label of "student." Until I no longer was one. After I graduated last year and couldn't find a job, I started going stir-crazy. I didn't know what to do with myself in this big house by the sea all by my lonesome. I read books. I watched a lot of tv. I knit and quilt like there's no tomorrow. I worked. But I was missing something. I missed learning. I missed the uncomfortable feeling of your brain expanding to the bursting point with useless information.
Ah yes. I am a nerd. (That label never changed.)
But now the world feels right again! I started my Anatomy and Physiology I class last week, and I'm loving being back in a classroom. Strangely enough, even though I've always loved school, I've always hated the first day of classes. I hate how the professors always want to go around the room and "learn a bit about you." Or even worse, ask you to turn to your neighbor, learn a bit about them, and then report that to the rest of the class. It's silly, but knowing that's coming produces anxiety and dread similar to a woman tied to the railroad tracks, watching her demise chug towards her at high speed. This time around, I was so grateful to be back in the comforting environment of a classroom that I felt nothing but excitement that first day. And bonus--- the professor didn't expect anything more than a raised hand when he took attendance!
Life is good.
(And just in case you were wondering, yes I have already reverted to my slacker ways: I have a quiz tomorrow and a major test on Thursday and instead of hauling my lazy bum early to the open lab to study I'm sitting here cooking chicken and posting on my blog. What can I say? I work better under pressure. And now thanks to this upcoming test, I'll be able to tell you the name of all my skull bones as they explode from trying to cram too much information in my brain!)
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Oh Max.
I thought I'd share two funny Max stories this week.
Yesterday, when I arrived at his house, he was sitting at the patio table with his mom, who was reading a news article on her computer about Bin Laden's death. She pointed to Osama's picture and said to Max, "what happened to this man?" Max's answer: "He got a time out."
Yes, Max. Yes he did.
Today, Max was watching me from his high chair while I ran around the kitchen getting a snack for him, where out of nowhere he goes, "I like your be-boos."
Um.
A two-year-old likes my boobs. Awk.Ward.
Yeah....just another day in my life.
Yesterday, when I arrived at his house, he was sitting at the patio table with his mom, who was reading a news article on her computer about Bin Laden's death. She pointed to Osama's picture and said to Max, "what happened to this man?" Max's answer: "He got a time out."
Yes, Max. Yes he did.
Today, Max was watching me from his high chair while I ran around the kitchen getting a snack for him, where out of nowhere he goes, "I like your be-boos."
Um.
A two-year-old likes my boobs. Awk.Ward.
Yeah....just another day in my life.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep...
When I was a little girl, I was taught to pray for angels to protect our house and the people in it from hurricanes, robbers, fires (although that was more a formality than a real threat), and other natural disasters. Yet I've never doubted or been fearful of my physical safety. Never. Not even when my crazy alcoholic roommate used to leave our front door to our Harlem apartment open all night.
Until I moved to God's Square Mile on the Jersey Shore.
First, my halfway house neighbors saved me from this:
Then, this happened a short 6 blocks from my house, destroying 8 homes and damaging 5 others (this is a real photo from the actual event, by the way):
Then, this happened to the house across the street from mine:
Miraculously, no fire resulted from that lightning strike, although the house did end up with a huge hole in the top of it, and I was told that the lightning completely blew away one of the interior walls.
In the past few weeks, there's been a crazy amount of house and car break-ins reported in my tiny town. Needless to say, my sense of security isn't quite what it used to be. I've always been a light sleeper, but now the slightest noise wakes me up and keeps me alert for a long time.
And I've become paranoid that my poor Marm will meet his doom in that house, either by fire or a burglar letting him escape. I hated leaving him home alone this week, since I'm in Pennsylvania babysitting my cousin while my aunt is out of town. I'm sure he'll be fine, but you can't tell me there's no cause to worry!
Until I moved to God's Square Mile on the Jersey Shore.
First, my halfway house neighbors saved me from this:
Then, this happened a short 6 blocks from my house, destroying 8 homes and damaging 5 others (this is a real photo from the actual event, by the way):
Then, this happened to the house across the street from mine:
Miraculously, no fire resulted from that lightning strike, although the house did end up with a huge hole in the top of it, and I was told that the lightning completely blew away one of the interior walls.
In the past few weeks, there's been a crazy amount of house and car break-ins reported in my tiny town. Needless to say, my sense of security isn't quite what it used to be. I've always been a light sleeper, but now the slightest noise wakes me up and keeps me alert for a long time.
And I've become paranoid that my poor Marm will meet his doom in that house, either by fire or a burglar letting him escape. I hated leaving him home alone this week, since I'm in Pennsylvania babysitting my cousin while my aunt is out of town. I'm sure he'll be fine, but you can't tell me there's no cause to worry!
Monday, April 18, 2011
Awkward Turtle.
Sometimes I feel like the older I get, the faster my social skills go downhill. For some reason, I find myself intimidated by some people who I shouldn't find intimidating. But then they try to talk to me and I clam up and fight a losing battle with my anxiety until I can make a quick escape. I was more sure of myself as a teenager. Then again, I had less life experience back then. Sometimes being naive can be an advantage, I guess.
In other news, Marmalade turned twelve yesterday, and my grandmother turned 83. I had a supermega-awkward encounter at church that I have no intention of discussing on this public blog and then I worked all afternoon and evening. It was a really busy day, probably because it was absolutely gorgeous out. Sunny and sixty-five degrees, with a slight breeze that was uncharacteristically warm for this time of year. People are crazy. They go shopping when it's a perfect day to sit outside and enjoy the beginnings of Spring. The flowers are just starting to bloom here, and I taught Max the joy of blowing a "wishing flower" (dandelion spores) the other day. I'm sure his neighbors won't be too pleased with us spreading their "weeds" around their lawns, but honestly, God has made some beautiful "weeds". I don't understand why people rip out the pretty yellow and purple wildflowers to plant boring grass. I wonder if there's a correlation between people who do that to their lawns and people who do that to their lives. I guess sometimes it's easier to feel safe and comfortable if your life remains boring and uniform. Adding splashes of color can be beautiful, but scary too.
Okay I'm done being philosophical for today. In not so interesting news, I started Weight Watchers about a week ago. So far I've lost 2 pounds, which isn't that exciting, but then again, I haven't been stressing myself too much either. This week I'm determined to start exercising on a regular basis again, and hopefully by next Monday I'll lose another few pounds. My goal is to lose 20 pounds by July 6th (which is when my subscription is up). Ideally, I'd like to lose half of that by Alicia's graduation on May 12th. I'm finally tired of being fat and not fitting into the clothes I want to wear. Besides, the truth is I'm not getting any younger and it'll only get harder to lose the weight as I age. So it's pretty much now or never. I'll let you know how it goes.
In other news, Marmalade turned twelve yesterday, and my grandmother turned 83. I had a supermega-awkward encounter at church that I have no intention of discussing on this public blog and then I worked all afternoon and evening. It was a really busy day, probably because it was absolutely gorgeous out. Sunny and sixty-five degrees, with a slight breeze that was uncharacteristically warm for this time of year. People are crazy. They go shopping when it's a perfect day to sit outside and enjoy the beginnings of Spring. The flowers are just starting to bloom here, and I taught Max the joy of blowing a "wishing flower" (dandelion spores) the other day. I'm sure his neighbors won't be too pleased with us spreading their "weeds" around their lawns, but honestly, God has made some beautiful "weeds". I don't understand why people rip out the pretty yellow and purple wildflowers to plant boring grass. I wonder if there's a correlation between people who do that to their lawns and people who do that to their lives. I guess sometimes it's easier to feel safe and comfortable if your life remains boring and uniform. Adding splashes of color can be beautiful, but scary too.
Okay I'm done being philosophical for today. In not so interesting news, I started Weight Watchers about a week ago. So far I've lost 2 pounds, which isn't that exciting, but then again, I haven't been stressing myself too much either. This week I'm determined to start exercising on a regular basis again, and hopefully by next Monday I'll lose another few pounds. My goal is to lose 20 pounds by July 6th (which is when my subscription is up). Ideally, I'd like to lose half of that by Alicia's graduation on May 12th. I'm finally tired of being fat and not fitting into the clothes I want to wear. Besides, the truth is I'm not getting any younger and it'll only get harder to lose the weight as I age. So it's pretty much now or never. I'll let you know how it goes.
Friday, April 1, 2011
All The Single Ladies...
Not that my degrees give it away or anything, but I find human behavior fascinating. I love learning about what motivates people's behaviors and attitudes towards others, both on an individual level and on a cultural scale. Which brings me to today's post:
It is not a crime to be a single woman at 25.
I am quite happy with my life at the moment, including my relationship status (or lack thereof). But for some reason, upon learning that I'm single, friends, acquaintances, and complete strangers immediately take pity on me and either change the subject or try to set me up with some eligible young man they know.
Why?
In America today, it is considered normal for men to remain single into their thirties. In fact, these prolonged bachelorhoods are glorified by Hollywood, whereas marriage (and increasingly, even dating relationships) are seen as the proverbial "ball and chain" for men. People blame biology and evolution, using the excuse that men are wired to play the field. On the other hand, women are supposed to always be attached to a man, even if she has no intention of ever marrying someone with his characteristics. Young, single women are portrayed in movies as ugly spinsters who have serious character flaws, or so desperate for a boyfriend or husband that they end up scaring men off and driving away any potential relationships. But these stereotypes simply aren't true.
I won't lie and say that I'm always comfortable being single. When I'm the only single person with a bunch of friends who are couples, sometimes things get awkward. But that doesn't stop me from hanging out with those friends, and it doesn't make me feel sorry for myself.
In fact, as more of my friends tie the knot, I'm discovering that I have an enormous amount of freedom that they no longer have, and I'm not talking about dating. Living alone, I'm free to make whatever I want for dinner. If I'm craving burgers every night for a whole week, there's no one else there to say, "burgers again?!" If I crave cake at midnight, I don't have to creep around the kitchen trying not to wake anyone up. In fact, I can blast rock music and sing along while baking my cake (and eating it, too!). If I feel like spending a rainy Saturday in my pajamas all day, I can do that without worrying about how I look. If I want to take a weekend getaway, I can go on a whim anywhere my car and wallet can take me. I can work nights and weekends and not feel bad about not spending time with my significant other. I can move to the other side of the country or the other side of the world without the unpleasant difficulty of trying to make a long distance relationship work. These and more are freedoms that I need in my life right now, and I'm enjoying them to the fullest.
So it astounds me when people around me (usually other women) try to set me up on dates. I don't mind as much when it comes from good friends, who know me well and know what I'm looking for when I eventually do settle down. And don't get me wrong, if someone really does know the Christian version of Prince William with Channing Tatum's looks, I'm not one to turn down my fairy godmother's help (as long as it comes with glass slippers too, because who doesn't like sparkly new shoes?!). But it irks me a bit when people like my employers (who know very little about me, which is the way I like to keep things professional) or my hairdresser try to set me up.
I appreciate the thought behind the offer, but no thanks. I am making the most of my singleness, and quite enjoying it. I don't anticipate it lasting forever, but I'm not one to rush into things just because society says I should.
I like to think of it as dancing to the beat of my own drum.
It is not a crime to be a single woman at 25.
I am quite happy with my life at the moment, including my relationship status (or lack thereof). But for some reason, upon learning that I'm single, friends, acquaintances, and complete strangers immediately take pity on me and either change the subject or try to set me up with some eligible young man they know.
Why?
In America today, it is considered normal for men to remain single into their thirties. In fact, these prolonged bachelorhoods are glorified by Hollywood, whereas marriage (and increasingly, even dating relationships) are seen as the proverbial "ball and chain" for men. People blame biology and evolution, using the excuse that men are wired to play the field. On the other hand, women are supposed to always be attached to a man, even if she has no intention of ever marrying someone with his characteristics. Young, single women are portrayed in movies as ugly spinsters who have serious character flaws, or so desperate for a boyfriend or husband that they end up scaring men off and driving away any potential relationships. But these stereotypes simply aren't true.
I won't lie and say that I'm always comfortable being single. When I'm the only single person with a bunch of friends who are couples, sometimes things get awkward. But that doesn't stop me from hanging out with those friends, and it doesn't make me feel sorry for myself.
In fact, as more of my friends tie the knot, I'm discovering that I have an enormous amount of freedom that they no longer have, and I'm not talking about dating. Living alone, I'm free to make whatever I want for dinner. If I'm craving burgers every night for a whole week, there's no one else there to say, "burgers again?!" If I crave cake at midnight, I don't have to creep around the kitchen trying not to wake anyone up. In fact, I can blast rock music and sing along while baking my cake (and eating it, too!). If I feel like spending a rainy Saturday in my pajamas all day, I can do that without worrying about how I look. If I want to take a weekend getaway, I can go on a whim anywhere my car and wallet can take me. I can work nights and weekends and not feel bad about not spending time with my significant other. I can move to the other side of the country or the other side of the world without the unpleasant difficulty of trying to make a long distance relationship work. These and more are freedoms that I need in my life right now, and I'm enjoying them to the fullest.
So it astounds me when people around me (usually other women) try to set me up on dates. I don't mind as much when it comes from good friends, who know me well and know what I'm looking for when I eventually do settle down. And don't get me wrong, if someone really does know the Christian version of Prince William with Channing Tatum's looks, I'm not one to turn down my fairy godmother's help (as long as it comes with glass slippers too, because who doesn't like sparkly new shoes?!). But it irks me a bit when people like my employers (who know very little about me, which is the way I like to keep things professional) or my hairdresser try to set me up.
I appreciate the thought behind the offer, but no thanks. I am making the most of my singleness, and quite enjoying it. I don't anticipate it lasting forever, but I'm not one to rush into things just because society says I should.
I like to think of it as dancing to the beat of my own drum.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Things I'm Learning At The Gap
1. Weekends are insane. Seriously, insane.
2. Gap actually has some really cute things, and the outlet is pretty fairly priced too. Win-win!
3. Cute guys shop in the Gap. Cute guys look really good in Gap clothes.
4. Cute babies also shop in the Gap.
5. Newborn baby stuff is SO. TINY.
6. Babies and kids do not enjoy shopping as much as their moms do.
7. Working 5 hours in Kids and Babies is a sure way to get a killer migraine. Note to self: take Excedrin before shifts in that section to avoid having an exploding skull in the middle of the shift.
8. Shoes that seem comfortable on any other normal day usually turn out to be quite painful if you're running around for 5 hours on them. So far, I've found I own only one pair of actually comfortable shoes, and they're suede boots. I may need to go shopping for comfy summer shoes soon.
9. Headsets hate me. They make everyone's ears hurt, but I seem to always get dead ones, so I end up wearing an earpiece for a walkie-talkie that isn't even working.
10. Did I mention cute guys shop in the Gap? It's particularly awesome to watch these guys come out of the fitting room looking very confused when you can tell their moms have shopped for them their whole lives. Also when they can't decide what they look best in and come out and model every shirt they've brought in with them.
11. Working at the Gap has given me hope again-- everyone working there thinks I'm still in high school. Last night a couple girls were talking about turning 21 and one turned to me and asked how old I was, since I wasn't joining in the conversation. She kept saying, "you're TWENTY-FIVE?! TWENTY-FIVE?! No way. TWENTY-FIVE?!" (Talk about a confidence boost-- maybe I'm not as old-looking as I feel! Yay!)
2. Gap actually has some really cute things, and the outlet is pretty fairly priced too. Win-win!
3. Cute guys shop in the Gap. Cute guys look really good in Gap clothes.
4. Cute babies also shop in the Gap.
5. Newborn baby stuff is SO. TINY.
6. Babies and kids do not enjoy shopping as much as their moms do.
7. Working 5 hours in Kids and Babies is a sure way to get a killer migraine. Note to self: take Excedrin before shifts in that section to avoid having an exploding skull in the middle of the shift.
8. Shoes that seem comfortable on any other normal day usually turn out to be quite painful if you're running around for 5 hours on them. So far, I've found I own only one pair of actually comfortable shoes, and they're suede boots. I may need to go shopping for comfy summer shoes soon.
9. Headsets hate me. They make everyone's ears hurt, but I seem to always get dead ones, so I end up wearing an earpiece for a walkie-talkie that isn't even working.
10. Did I mention cute guys shop in the Gap? It's particularly awesome to watch these guys come out of the fitting room looking very confused when you can tell their moms have shopped for them their whole lives. Also when they can't decide what they look best in and come out and model every shirt they've brought in with them.
11. Working at the Gap has given me hope again-- everyone working there thinks I'm still in high school. Last night a couple girls were talking about turning 21 and one turned to me and asked how old I was, since I wasn't joining in the conversation. She kept saying, "you're TWENTY-FIVE?! TWENTY-FIVE?! No way. TWENTY-FIVE?!" (Talk about a confidence boost-- maybe I'm not as old-looking as I feel! Yay!)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)