day 4: old dogs, new tricks, and the intersection

True story.

I had been watching a particular student's body language during my week of observations and could tell, based on some of the subtle changes in her body language, that something was going on with her.  It so happened that I found myself standing next to her in the hallway and I took note that it was a perfect time to check in with her.  I headed off the conversation with the standard, "How is everything going?"  Her response: "fine." Aaaaannnnd.  Silence.  She looked at me, I looked at her.  and.  nothing.  Within milliseconds, the friend that she had been waiting on appeared and they had both disappeared into the abyss that is a high school hallway during passing period and I hadn't done anything to build that relationship.

I do not love awkward silences, and, well, let's just get this out of the way, I love to hear myself talk.  I think I'm very funny and I'm fairly certain that I'm always right, additionally I'm certain that my insight will always help a person solve their problems.  It has always been my M.O. {mode of operation, I love this asking questions thing!} to strike up a conversation by way of a personal funny story, allowing the development of conversation to rest on the continuation of my stories or on the other person asserting their own stories, questions, or comments.  If I'm gonna be honest here, I have to admit that I'm not really a great conversationalist.

And thus, we return to the failed hallway attempt to be sweeter.  I don't honestly think the poor girl knew how to respond.  She may have been waiting to hear what I was going to say; she's very respectful that way.  She could've been been laughing in her attempt at my feeble attempt.  Maybe she was just counting the minutes until we were no longer sharing the same air.  At any rate, the lesson here is two fold:

• It's not enough to simply take notice, now I must take interest.
• This ish is hard.  

The solution to lesson one: start askin' some questions.  The solution for number two: suck it up, the good stuff ain't easy.  

My second attempt at taking an interest came out a little more like a police interrogation, during which I may have appeared only slightly more inept than I did during the blank stare I encountered in my first.  BUT, all was not lost, in every failed attempt there is a new opportunity to succeed, here's what I learned after this go-round:

• Slow down and listen, asking questions means nothing if I'm not paying attention to how the person is answering.  This is not an archeological dig; every word has the potential to be a precious key into understanding that person.
• Ask more open ended questions, for goodness sakes, let the poor person give an answer that consists of more than a simple yes or no.

If at first you don't succeed, yada yada yada.  Luckily, the third time was indeed the charm.  And I tell you what, magic happened.  Ok, so maybe without the angels singing and such, but still, it was a proud moment.

I was riding in the car with my particularly handsome potential suitor and because I was taking notice, it became clear that he was, maybe, not overly thrilled with something and grunted something along the lines of "long day" when I inquired. {I'm sure it didn't help that we had to fight traffic twice because I left my phone, especially after I jested about always being prepared for anything ... any who...}  My choices became clear: let the silence be, interrogate, or start talking.  I soaked in the silence.  The cool thing was that as the evening went on and I continued to eloquently pepper the quiet with inquiries {read: stay as far away from the third degree interrogation schtick as possible} and kept the "I" statements to a minimum, the worry lines started to fade off of his face, his posture became a bit more open, and his grunts became whole sentences.  I'll call that a success and I'll gladly pat myself on the back for it.

Old habits die hard, that's for sure, but old dogs can learn new tricks.  Becoming a sweeter person will not happen over night, nor it will I be successful at it on the first try.  There is a leaning curve.  Sometimes, all I can do is look back and learn from what I could've, should've or would've done.  The cool part, though, is that, even when all I can do is look back, it is enough.

a magician?

You know how sometimes when you're trying to empty a container and, because you can't see the contents, it seems like the package is holding an impossibly greater amount that there is physical space available.  Ya know, like Mary Poppins' purse?

If her purse were, in fact, the mode of transport for my recent abundance of bad luck, I'd venture to guess that we'd just have pulled out the kitchen sink.

For reals.

Seriously, I should learn magic or something.  Really.  I'm learning humility.

It seems that while I cannot pull a rabbit from a hat, I am becoming quite talented in the art of sending men into a black hole.  So maybe my afore fondly spoken of potential suitor has not completely taken the plunge, but he certainly has sunk behind the curtain.

*sigh*

God bless her, my mama is now sending me articles about dating in my thirties.  Because, ya know, every other instructional manual has been helpful and stuff.

It's a good thing I'm getting better at learning from my experiences.  That I'm getting my crazy under control.  That I'm becoming a happier, more resilient person. Because I sure was havin' a little bit of a fantasy sequence about telling Prince Charming a little about a couple of things.

But.  I stopped myself from making a complete and utter fool of myself any kind of contact.  And.  I leaned a little into the discomfort of the dark and ominous realization that I had been stood up.  for the second time.  And I found just a tiny piece of power hanging out way down deep in my gut.  And I clung to it.

For so long, I have hid behind my words to find a sense of power.  Specifically, my angry words.  Words that are meant to cut.  A little act of revenge for putting me in a situation where I felt powerless.

Today, again I stopped myself from mentioning it, even as he went about his daily interactions with me in a disturbingly normal fashion..

And why?  Why should a strong, independent woman not speak up for herself when she has been overlooked?

Because real power does not come from bringing someone else down.  If I can choose, and I can, I don't want to be her anymore.

Maybe he'll persist.  Maybe he'll climb out of the black hole.  Maybe he'll sink in.  It sucks to be overlooked and not be granted the simple respect of an explanation.  But really, what else is a girl to do?

Source: den10studio.blogspot.com via Laura on Pinterest

Toodleloo,

pear-shaped madness

Ya wanna know which fictitious character I feel most like today?  Veruca Salt.  You know the bratty little girl who's daddy schemed a golden ticket for her, the one who hooted and hollered every time she saw something she just knew she had to have, the one who befell her demise chasing after a golden egg.  Yeah.  Her.

Photo Credit: FanPop

My mini me has been screaming, "I want it NOW!" in the back of my head for the last day or so.  I wish it was simply a golden goose egg (or a specially trained squirrel apparently, if you've read the book) that would satiate the Miss-Salt-like squawking.

Of course, let's be real here.  The egg wouldn't have satisfied her in the movie and what I think I want right now ain't gonna fix a thing either.  Well.  Maybe just a little bit.  For now, anyway.

What I want right now, really truly, is to be able to trust that this super handsome potential suitor I've been seeing is for real.  And.  Here's the thing.  There's no real reason, except my own insecurities, preventing me from doing it.  Because you see, we're at just the right point in this budding relationship that my crazy should start acting up, terrified of what one. more. disappearing act is gonna do to my faith in the male gender.  Turns out that I'm in the midst of a supremely vicious cycle that happens to have everything a little pear-shaped right now.  

My mama has always told me that hind sight was 20/20.  It's easy to look back and see all of the things I've done wrong and even to imagine how I could've done them better.  It's really really really hard, in the midst of pear-shaped madness to remember those lessons, much less find the serenity I had before the crazy came back to visit.

They say that good things come to those who wait, but waitin' is so dang hard.  And waiting with any sense of integrity can be plain old agonizing.  Right now, waiting is making me want to stomp my feet, throw a fit, and chase that stupid golden egg to my own inevitable demise.  Or just burrow into my bed for a couple of days.

Oh.  Wait a minute.  I've done that.

And it repeatedly gets me.... that's right, you've guessed it!  NO WHERE.

You know how the saying goes, if you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always got.  A self-fulfilling prophecy, if you will.

But, I'm not gonna do it this time.  Nope.

One of things I remember most from the good ol'days of The Oprah Show, was Oprah quoting Maya Angelou,  "when you know better, you do better."  I believe I finally know better enough to understand how to do it better.  This time, even if it doesn't work out or he falls off the face of the earth, I will know that I did better.  I will know that I was not a victim.  And, I will not be angry at him for failing to read my mind or for being flawed enough to *gasp* have more purpose in life than to simply please me.

So, this is where I change my course, scrape together all of my remaining composure, and let myself be a little more vulnerable than I'm comfortable with.  It's okay to feel uneasy.  It's okay to be scared strait out of my new Jessica Simpson heels.  It's even okay to let this so-far great guy off of the hook that he probably doesn't even know exists.

Wish me luck, 'cause instead of diving in after that golden egg, I'm gonna sit tight, stay sweet, invest some time in learning about him, and trust that I'm gonna be okay.  no. matter. what.

Cheers to moving forward,

better than i was

Some exciting things are happening in my life and I've been encroaching on some new territory here in the last couple of weeks.  First, I've made it four whole dates with a potential suitor and have kept my crazy in check the whole time!  AND.  I completed a race today with a wee faster time than my A goal, making today's race my fastest.  ever.  Go me!

And so, in tribute of my recent triumphs, I thought that it would be fitting to recap some of the important lessons that have made this place possible:

• Hard work and constistancy are necessary ingredients for achieving any goal, although hard work doesn't always mean or look the same in every situation.
• The way your body is used to practicing is the way it will perform.
• Old habits and ways of thinking die hard.
• Things cannot be removed from our lives without replacing them with something else.
• The only real peace comes from knowing that God is in charge.
• People who care about you will want to know who you really are.  Cherish them.  
• You owe the loved ones in your life the time it takes to truly get to know who they really are.
• Sometimes we relapse into bad habits so that we can remember not only how far we've come, but also how far we still have to go.
• There is no shame in being a nice person.
• When you feel pretty, you act pretty, and that is the pretty that matters.
• Honesty and a good sense of humor about your shortcomings will put a lot of things into perspective.

Cheers,

remission

Two days ago I contacted a potential suitor after a brief, hmmm, hiatus, shall we say.  I don't know why I did it; and even though I'm glad I did, I don't really know how I feel about breaking my leave-the-boy-alone rule either.  But I did it.  And I learned something about myself in the process.  

So,  you should know first that I have a history of being ditched by potential suitors.  In hind sight, most of them were doing me a favor.  I'd like to think that they are all just intimidated by my awesomeness, but let's be real.  My crazy probably drove them away.  Not to worry though, y'all, my crazy is in rehab.  I'm certain after my little relapse that all is well in the anti-crazy kingdom.  

At any rate, this PS did the ceremonial disappearing act after a fantastic conversation where he complimented my beautiful smile, made tentative plans for a future date, and called me sugar.  Swoon for real.  It is so hard to remember the rules of crazy rehab when a boy is telling me such sweet things, ugh!    However, upon constantly reanalyzing reflection of the situation, I have determined that my crazy was well in check during our entire, however brief, get-to-know-each-other period.  

And so he disappeared.  No explanation, ok, well sort of, but determining when an explanation is just that and when it's an excuse is a whole other discussion.  The not-so-gradual fade-away.  We're well acquainted.  This is where the first piece of proof that crazy boot camp is working: I didn't text or call or anything.  No twitter.  Nothing.  Just this deserves me a trophy!

But then the relapse.  

It was just a little text.  I was actually surprised that he responded, truth be told.  At first, I caught myself having fantasy sequences about how he missed me so much and how he was going to realize my amazingness.  He simply responded, acted like it hadn't even been three weeks, and didn't even make an apology.  Abort fantasy sequence.  But this post isn't about how he should have acted or what he should have said, hell, it's not even about him.  It's about me and my journey and about how this little incident marked all new territory for me.  Because the remarkable part of this whole interaction was that, despite the pitter-patter that he made my heart go during that conversation before the fade-away,  I was able to see him for who he was, hear what he was really saying, and deduce that regardless of his choices, I AM FINE!  HA!  

Who knows what will happen with this guy, maybe he'll prove to be someone different than he has recently come across and maybe not.  What I do know is that whatever he decides, I have entries to write, miles to run, an iPad cover to decorate, and other PS's to date :)

Pretty soon, I'll be able to say that my crazy is in remission. 

marriage and a baby carriage

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I go to a good job every day.  I have a master's degree.  I own my own home and drive a nice car.  I pay my bills on time and have a decent credit score as a reflection of that effort.  I have a strong resume and two generally well-behaved dogs.  I am healthy, active, and happy.  I am absolutely blessed without a doubt, and am thankful for every aspect of my life.

That doesn't mean that there are not things that could enhance it.  I pray every night for someone with whom to share all of these blessings.  I pray for children to awaken my home with laughter.  I pray for the opportuntiy to wake up every morning next to the man I love most.  I pray for the job title of mom, wife,  homemaker, and superwoman.

Maybe it's because I've gotten all of my ambitions out of the way; maybe it's because I know I'm going to be okay, regardless of what the future holds; maybe it's because I can honestly say that I don't need my neighbor to come and cut up the big 'ol tree branch that fell on my house last weekend because I can confidently and successfully do it myself; but honestly, I want to be cared for.

When I wanted to become a teacher, there was a plan in place for that.  When I wanted to buy a house, I followed all of the steps.  Every time I have purchased a car, there has been a familiar routine to follow.  I pay my bills according to the rules and followed a template to write my resume.  The dogs, eh, well, it's a process.  There is no guideline, rule book, or template to meeting my future partner in crime.

Oh.  Wait a minute.  There are plenty.  If I haven't read them all, I've read most of them.

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Maybe I'll set the plight of feminists back a couple hundred of years, but I've decided that just because I can do the work of a man does not mean that I do not deserve to be treated like a lady.  Fair and equal are not the same things.  And so, I will: paint my nails, write thank you notes on pretty cards, allow a man to pay for my meal and open my door, wear dresses, and get a little teary during sentimental commercials.  I will not apologize for being a woman and I will relish the man who appreciates it.

Sure, I'm super appreciative for all that women in history have done to pave the way for all of the amazing things and experiences that I have been granted or able to earn.  I revel in the knowledge that I have not felt the pressure to settle for less than I deserve on any front.  But I wonder sometimes if I have learned to be too independent, too self-sufficient, too outspoken.  I don't want to be dumb, defenseless, or mute; but I also don't want to be treated like a man, like I'm easy, or like I'm disposable.

Hello

So, the next book on my impromptu reading list is one about how to get married in a year.  The whole idea seems a little silly to me, but maybe if I'm really honest, I'll admit that there's a little hope that something along that fairy tale line might happen to me.  At any rate, I'm not gonna even mention the title of the book here, because I'm a little disgruntled by it.  Mostly, because I can't afford a personal shopper, don't really think that finding a good man requires Botox, and I ABSOLUTELY refuse to purchase a pair of black velvet pants.  Maybe I'm wrong.  I AM the single one here.  Ha!

I was about to put the book down in disgust last night, when I read the challenge.  Say "hi" to three people while you're out and about tomorrow.  That's it.  Just. Say. Hi.  

I went to bed PUMPED, I tell you!  My head was full of fantasy sequences that involved me saying hello, finding lovely people to chat with over coffee, and falling in love with some handsome stranger that I engaged with a simple hello.  There were roses and butterflies everywhere.  It was just beautiful.  Those rose colored glasses were just about surgically attached to my retinas! I got myself so worked up, it took me two whole hours to fall asleep!

Before I fell asleep, I made a list of the one and only rule:

1. Store employees don't count for my 3 - they're always unappreciated and deserve, at the very least, to be acknowledged!

Flash forward to today.  The time is currently 4:09 p.m. and I am sad to report that I have failed.  I mean. Epic.  Failed.  How does the person who actively smiles at everyone she passes fail at saying hello to the same people she is smiling at???  Really.  

Maybe it was because I was crabby from not getting to bed at a reasonable time because of my stupid awake dreaming.  Or because I had to drive an hour and a half, round trip, to get to a meeting that lasted two hours.  Or because while I was at that meeting, I was asked if I was still training for "that" marathon in January and I had to say no.  OR because it was 96 degrees outside at 7:00 in the morning.  

Maybe its the fact that the only errand I had to run today was to the hardware store for a plunger.  By the way, I'd like to express to ya'll how much more embarrassing it was for me to buy a plunger than possibly any other single thing I've ever purchased before in my life!  

In hindsight...

Maybe I should have read Everyone Poops a couple of times before I went, or pretend that the clogged toilet was the product of some obnoxious boy (because everyone knows that girls don't poop), or simply used it as a walking stick to make light of the situation. I was about mortified as I watched the construction guy as he looked at me in the face, looked down at the plunger, and back up at my face again.  

Maybe I should have given myself a pep talk.  After all, being brave about two insignificant things is almost like hard labor.  I mean, its almost ridiculous to ask a person to say hello to passing human beings while purchasing a plunger.  

I blame the plunger!

So what about you?  Is it easy for you to talk to strangers?  What helps you?  Help me out ya'll, I'm trying to loosen up here :)