I confess that I am happy. I really hope you didn't think I was going to say anything more juicy than that. :)
Our wedding was beautiful. It was just what I had hoped for it to be, partly because I didn't set expectations on it. What made it beautiful was that we had loved ones all around and the dearest of them all, my lovely husband, was next to me the entire time.
The whirlwind started on Thursday with hot tubing and gigging and culminated in a terrific honeymoon, well appointed with relaxation and romance. And lots and lots of hot tub action.
We're home now. Does it feel different? Nah. Not really. There is a certain unexplainable giddiness in calling this man my husband. There is a joy in hearing him call me wife. Given that I don't put too much importance in these words it confuses at times, but I'll take it. Because I like being happy.
I guess I didn't name this blog appropriately.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
Pomp and circumstance? Indeed.
Yesterday, while at my sisters graduation, I made a little comment to my mom.
"Don't worry, when I graduate in two years I won't make you sit through this."
I thought it was funny as there was a lady speaking who was about as engaging as a box of rocks.
"Oh, yes you will." she replied. And I laughed a little and said, "No really. I don't like graduation ceremonies. No big deal." And she looked at me then as though I was an alien and said, "You wouldn't do that to me." And I looked at her as though she was my mother and said, "It isn't about you." She sat there for a moment, clearly trying to exhibit some authority and finally said, "I'm older. I win." I cocked my head to one side to reply. "It's my life. I win."
Obviously she was upset. The conversation didn't end there but what's the point of continuing? There was a lot of looking and cocking ones head to the side and debating.
My issue is twofold at this point.
1) My mother's favorite parenting tactic is guilt and when she cannot get her way she moves to threatening and finally she plays the victim. Another form of guilt. If we were raised Jewish I could maybe understand this. I get that my mom has been victimized a lot in her life but at some point you have to take hold of that pain by understanding it and changing it. She's never done this and so in her eyes every little offense is directed at her. What she cannot and will probably not ever understand is that it isn't up to her children to make her happy. It is up to her to seek only happiness for her children and feel the benefits.
2) Graduations are not fun. I don't have a problem if someone wants to partake. I'll go and support them. But for me, the LAST thing I want to do is go sit in an arena for three hours listening to boring people say boring things and watch a million other people walk on stage all so I can walk on stage for 15 seconds and have my family dimly yell, "Wooooo" at me.
Oh no no no. Let's just go to Bada West and eat hummus. I assure you this will please me much more. And guess what? It's about ME. And if you're graduating it's about YOU. And also you couldn't pay me to wear that hideous gown and cap combo. YIKES!
P.S. Why is there a benediction at a graduation ceremony? Why do they talk about God so much? WHY WHY WHY?!?!?!?!
"Don't worry, when I graduate in two years I won't make you sit through this."
I thought it was funny as there was a lady speaking who was about as engaging as a box of rocks.
"Oh, yes you will." she replied. And I laughed a little and said, "No really. I don't like graduation ceremonies. No big deal." And she looked at me then as though I was an alien and said, "You wouldn't do that to me." And I looked at her as though she was my mother and said, "It isn't about you." She sat there for a moment, clearly trying to exhibit some authority and finally said, "I'm older. I win." I cocked my head to one side to reply. "It's my life. I win."
Obviously she was upset. The conversation didn't end there but what's the point of continuing? There was a lot of looking and cocking ones head to the side and debating.
My issue is twofold at this point.
1) My mother's favorite parenting tactic is guilt and when she cannot get her way she moves to threatening and finally she plays the victim. Another form of guilt. If we were raised Jewish I could maybe understand this. I get that my mom has been victimized a lot in her life but at some point you have to take hold of that pain by understanding it and changing it. She's never done this and so in her eyes every little offense is directed at her. What she cannot and will probably not ever understand is that it isn't up to her children to make her happy. It is up to her to seek only happiness for her children and feel the benefits.
2) Graduations are not fun. I don't have a problem if someone wants to partake. I'll go and support them. But for me, the LAST thing I want to do is go sit in an arena for three hours listening to boring people say boring things and watch a million other people walk on stage all so I can walk on stage for 15 seconds and have my family dimly yell, "Wooooo" at me.
Oh no no no. Let's just go to Bada West and eat hummus. I assure you this will please me much more. And guess what? It's about ME. And if you're graduating it's about YOU. And also you couldn't pay me to wear that hideous gown and cap combo. YIKES!
P.S. Why is there a benediction at a graduation ceremony? Why do they talk about God so much? WHY WHY WHY?!?!?!?!
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Body image or why I can never stop straightening my shirt.
For a long time I thought I had body dysmorphic disorder.
Body dysmorphic disorder (BDD) (previously known as Dysmorphophobia[1] and sometimes referred to as Body dysmorphia) (also known as "Dysmorphic syndrome," and "Dysmorphophobia"[2]) is a psychiatric disorder in which the affected person is excessively concerned about and preoccupied by an imagined or minor defect in his or her physical features.
Now I just think I'm human.
I know this all started somewhere. At some point when I was very young the idea crept into my head that I didn't look like I was supposed to. Maybe it was because my sister was in beauty pageants and I wasn't. That always made me feel ugly, because why couldn't I do it too? I just assumed I was the gross kid. I watched a lot of grown up movies at a young age, so maybe it was seeing older woman in film that cinched it. I remember being in kindergarten and thinking I was fat. It's true. I've felt that way ever since, and not just fat but all kinds of things. I happened to be born with crazy curly hair that was different and sometimes frizztastic. I happened to be born with a form of strabismus, which in simple terms means that there is a defective neurological signal to my eyes that have, over time, made them weak. Despite surgery. It's mostly cosmetic and still I've hated myself for it. But who cares about any of those things? Curly hair and curves and non perfect muscles don't make someone ugly. But try telling that to a teen girl.
Somewhere along the line someone told me I was pretty. I don't remember who but it could have been my mom. I grew older and did more shows and although I always felt too gross to be worthy of a leading lady role, I still got noticed in the theatre scene. I didn't understand it but I accepted it. Guys started becoming interested in me, which was really very baffling to this scared girl who always wanted to stay home and hide herself under the covers.
I started becoming aware that I had something men wanted but I couldn't figure it out. Then I became aware that my girlfriends actually believed I was pretty too - and this I could not understand at all. This I could not accept.
In time I eventually grew to believe that I could make myself tolerable with enough make up and hair product. I had boyfriends, I left them, I dated I got married. Somewhere in my early twenties my best friend had this idea that we should take artsy, risque photos of ourselves for fun. We did, and it was great and I started to believe that if I could force myself to do this kind of art I may be able to find a way out of my self loathing. It helped a lot - those photos were not always easy for me to do, but I'm so glad I found a way to become uninhibited with a trusted friend.
Now here I am, 26, and at times I am no better than I was twenty years ago. Where is the switch that I can turn on that allows me to let go of this nonsense feeling of not being worthy enough? When do I reach the point of feeling like my hips and belly and hair and eyes and skin and ass are actually beautiful? Life is too short. I never want to feel anything less than amazing.
What's important is that I KNOW these thoughts are old patterns and unhealthy ones too. I don't hold anyone but myself to these ideals - and I think they are silly notions that should be done away with all together. I'm getting better. I'm getting there.
A few tricks I've learned along the way, for those dealing with these same issues.
1. When someone complements you, do not negate them. Take it in. Believe it and remember it so you can recall it if you're feeling down.
2. Take photos of yourself and note all the positives. There are many.
3. Understand that some people are meant to be curvy and some skinny and some in between. Sometimes there isn't anything you can do about that.
4. People are born with all kinds of issues. Learn to love it. You can't always change everything you dislike about yourself.
5. Stop comparing yourself to other people. You wont ever be anyone but yourself.
It's not a pretty blog. It's just something I deal with from time to time.
....I'm bad at ending blogs......
Body dysmorphic disorder (BDD) (previously known as Dysmorphophobia[1] and sometimes referred to as Body dysmorphia) (also known as "Dysmorphic syndrome," and "Dysmorphophobia"[2]) is a psychiatric disorder in which the affected person is excessively concerned about and preoccupied by an imagined or minor defect in his or her physical features.
Now I just think I'm human.
I know this all started somewhere. At some point when I was very young the idea crept into my head that I didn't look like I was supposed to. Maybe it was because my sister was in beauty pageants and I wasn't. That always made me feel ugly, because why couldn't I do it too? I just assumed I was the gross kid. I watched a lot of grown up movies at a young age, so maybe it was seeing older woman in film that cinched it. I remember being in kindergarten and thinking I was fat. It's true. I've felt that way ever since, and not just fat but all kinds of things. I happened to be born with crazy curly hair that was different and sometimes frizztastic. I happened to be born with a form of strabismus, which in simple terms means that there is a defective neurological signal to my eyes that have, over time, made them weak. Despite surgery. It's mostly cosmetic and still I've hated myself for it. But who cares about any of those things? Curly hair and curves and non perfect muscles don't make someone ugly. But try telling that to a teen girl.
Somewhere along the line someone told me I was pretty. I don't remember who but it could have been my mom. I grew older and did more shows and although I always felt too gross to be worthy of a leading lady role, I still got noticed in the theatre scene. I didn't understand it but I accepted it. Guys started becoming interested in me, which was really very baffling to this scared girl who always wanted to stay home and hide herself under the covers.
I started becoming aware that I had something men wanted but I couldn't figure it out. Then I became aware that my girlfriends actually believed I was pretty too - and this I could not understand at all. This I could not accept.
In time I eventually grew to believe that I could make myself tolerable with enough make up and hair product. I had boyfriends, I left them, I dated I got married. Somewhere in my early twenties my best friend had this idea that we should take artsy, risque photos of ourselves for fun. We did, and it was great and I started to believe that if I could force myself to do this kind of art I may be able to find a way out of my self loathing. It helped a lot - those photos were not always easy for me to do, but I'm so glad I found a way to become uninhibited with a trusted friend.
Now here I am, 26, and at times I am no better than I was twenty years ago. Where is the switch that I can turn on that allows me to let go of this nonsense feeling of not being worthy enough? When do I reach the point of feeling like my hips and belly and hair and eyes and skin and ass are actually beautiful? Life is too short. I never want to feel anything less than amazing.
What's important is that I KNOW these thoughts are old patterns and unhealthy ones too. I don't hold anyone but myself to these ideals - and I think they are silly notions that should be done away with all together. I'm getting better. I'm getting there.
A few tricks I've learned along the way, for those dealing with these same issues.
1. When someone complements you, do not negate them. Take it in. Believe it and remember it so you can recall it if you're feeling down.
2. Take photos of yourself and note all the positives. There are many.
3. Understand that some people are meant to be curvy and some skinny and some in between. Sometimes there isn't anything you can do about that.
4. People are born with all kinds of issues. Learn to love it. You can't always change everything you dislike about yourself.
5. Stop comparing yourself to other people. You wont ever be anyone but yourself.
It's not a pretty blog. It's just something I deal with from time to time.
....I'm bad at ending blogs......
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
I just gotta say it!
I don't believe that you have to be in a relationship to be happy, and I don't believe that anyone else can really make you whole. I'm sure my enthusiasm at my relationship comes off that way, but it's really not. What I'm excited about is finding someone who so compliments me. Someone who I am genuinely and amazingly happy with and since I know that is rare I have no other emotion to feel but happiness.
Dan does so many things for me that I can't keep track. In the beginning I tried, but all the awesome things just kept coming! I realized I didn't need to hermetically seal each event because there were fresh ones to enjoy all the time! Then I started learning how to incorporate this new found joy into my life without taking it for granted.
For example: Today I came home from work, figuring it to be a rather usual day. I would spend an hour at home before going to get Willow. There was a card on the door with a clue as to the whereabouts of my surprise. It was a large hummus from Bada West.
Then he offered to pick Willow up for me. And he gave me a massage. And took the videos back.
What's more is that since our wallets are not fat these days he decided that the best use of our money was to make me feel happy and loved. Instead of freaking out and being upset about what we don't have he took hold of what we DO have and used it to bring a smile to my face.
This is rare. This is not your average person. I don't care that everyone is probably sick of me being so gushy about my partner/boyfriend/husband.
I'm happy, god damnit, and it is enriched by the fact that I wasn't happy for sooooooo long.
Way to rock my face.
Dan does so many things for me that I can't keep track. In the beginning I tried, but all the awesome things just kept coming! I realized I didn't need to hermetically seal each event because there were fresh ones to enjoy all the time! Then I started learning how to incorporate this new found joy into my life without taking it for granted.
For example: Today I came home from work, figuring it to be a rather usual day. I would spend an hour at home before going to get Willow. There was a card on the door with a clue as to the whereabouts of my surprise. It was a large hummus from Bada West.
Then he offered to pick Willow up for me. And he gave me a massage. And took the videos back.
What's more is that since our wallets are not fat these days he decided that the best use of our money was to make me feel happy and loved. Instead of freaking out and being upset about what we don't have he took hold of what we DO have and used it to bring a smile to my face.
This is rare. This is not your average person. I don't care that everyone is probably sick of me being so gushy about my partner/boyfriend/husband.
I'm happy, god damnit, and it is enriched by the fact that I wasn't happy for sooooooo long.
Way to rock my face.
Friday, June 5, 2009
What is this thing called wedding?
I sat down to a nice dinner tonight having decided to watch TV while I eat. I don't watch much TV. In fact, if it were not for Willow I would almost never turn the thing on. As I was scanning the channels for something awesome or ridiculous I ran across the most awesomley ridiculous show ever called "Whose wedding is it anyway?" I was pretty sure I knew that answer would be a rich bitch bride, and I was right.
All this TV watching was thought provoking or rather thought remembering. "Oh yea", I said to myself between bits of tofu and potato "I hate this shit." But let me tell you why.
I am not one for tradition because most tradition is laced with horror stories of things I would rather not take part in and what is not horrific is not significant There I said it. My issues begin with the institution itself, but if you have two people who are on the same page about this I can agree that you should reap some governmental rewards. Fine, I'm over it.
What I don't understand is why brides obsess over this and that and every god damned little thing right down to hair. I don't understand why people struggle to spend thousands of dollars for such bullshit, and even if they don't struggle to pay for it they have loads of stress - and all to present an appearance to people who will undoubtedly forget about all of it.*Open bars make you do that*
If I had the money to put on a grand event for my friends I would be happy to do so. I'd pay someone to plan it and not care a wit about what happened next. Unfortunately, I cannot afford to do this so I'm fucking off and doing my own thing. OUR own thing. Because getting married isn't just about the bride, it's about the couple and I'm so tired of the emphasis on the woman. If this is not equally about these two people than what is going on in the world?!?!
My wedding day (taking places two weeks from today) is going to be a culmination of immense love and joy, and a further banishing of a pain that I have worked so hard to heal. This is why my marriage is important. If I had to marry this man wearing a potato sack and standing in the middle of a mud puddle my joy would be no less and unfortunately I have to question if most women would agree to also marry their partners in such a way if they had to.
It's great I don't have to do that because I can enjoy the day as a well rounded experience with family and friends - but I would do that.
What are in peoples hearts when they stand hand in hand at the altar? (or proscenium...)
Ya know what's going to be in mine?
"I've already committed to this man. He looks so handsome....oh Dean is funny in that hat....my moms looks cute in that outfit....I want a scone.....let me say my vows real quick....okay, that's over...cool..oooo yea a kiss! score!......can I go to Florida now?"
All this TV watching was thought provoking or rather thought remembering. "Oh yea", I said to myself between bits of tofu and potato "I hate this shit." But let me tell you why.
I am not one for tradition because most tradition is laced with horror stories of things I would rather not take part in and what is not horrific is not significant There I said it. My issues begin with the institution itself, but if you have two people who are on the same page about this I can agree that you should reap some governmental rewards. Fine, I'm over it.
What I don't understand is why brides obsess over this and that and every god damned little thing right down to hair. I don't understand why people struggle to spend thousands of dollars for such bullshit, and even if they don't struggle to pay for it they have loads of stress - and all to present an appearance to people who will undoubtedly forget about all of it.*Open bars make you do that*
If I had the money to put on a grand event for my friends I would be happy to do so. I'd pay someone to plan it and not care a wit about what happened next. Unfortunately, I cannot afford to do this so I'm fucking off and doing my own thing. OUR own thing. Because getting married isn't just about the bride, it's about the couple and I'm so tired of the emphasis on the woman. If this is not equally about these two people than what is going on in the world?!?!
My wedding day (taking places two weeks from today) is going to be a culmination of immense love and joy, and a further banishing of a pain that I have worked so hard to heal. This is why my marriage is important. If I had to marry this man wearing a potato sack and standing in the middle of a mud puddle my joy would be no less and unfortunately I have to question if most women would agree to also marry their partners in such a way if they had to.
It's great I don't have to do that because I can enjoy the day as a well rounded experience with family and friends - but I would do that.
What are in peoples hearts when they stand hand in hand at the altar? (or proscenium...)
Ya know what's going to be in mine?
"I've already committed to this man. He looks so handsome....oh Dean is funny in that hat....my moms looks cute in that outfit....I want a scone.....let me say my vows real quick....okay, that's over...cool..oooo yea a kiss! score!......can I go to Florida now?"
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Lurnin is a skary bidness.
I can't be sure when my aversion to school started but I think it was somewhere around my first day of Kindergarten. I always hated having to leave home and go be with people who either made fun of me or I had a crush on. (I remember giving Brandon Spangler my FAVORTIE purple crayon when I was five. This was a clear sign of my affection. An affection that lasted for nine years. The purple crayon thing didn't work....)
Anyway so back to my never liking school. My real dislike was mostly in high school and this was for many reasons. I blame my poor childhood diet for one. I was allowed to eat whatever I wanted totally unmonitored. A typical dinner would consist of a hamburger with some white bread and as much coke as I could drink. Dessert? Well, that depends? How many swiss cake rolls we got?
I wasn't encouraged to be active so I wasn't. My mom was gone to work so I just watched TV all night after the inevitable rehearsal or five hour conversation with whomever I was dating at the time. Whatever. I didn't sleep well as a result and getting up for school was grueling. I couldn't concentrate.
Then there were other things *excuses* like pining away for an older gentleman, dreaming of my career in showbiz and learning LINES LINES LINES god damnit. I did okay, but it was tough. Not because I'm stupid but because I didn't care.
Fast forward to now. I'm ready to change my life and my unhappiness in my current career choice and I genuinely want to plunge face first into the ASL program. I'm terrified that I won't be able to grasp the information. I'm terrified that my artist side will slowly be smothered under mounds of homework. I'm scared I won't like it as much as I think I will now. Ill have to quit work to do this and I'm scared that there won't be enough money.
Sometimes, even when you see them coming, you aren't ready for the big moments.
I've been dreaming of going back to school for years and I finally can. I'm so scared about it but I know that this opportunity is so rare. I have to take it, scared or no. I'm going to.
But seriously, can someone take my math tests for me?
Anyway so back to my never liking school. My real dislike was mostly in high school and this was for many reasons. I blame my poor childhood diet for one. I was allowed to eat whatever I wanted totally unmonitored. A typical dinner would consist of a hamburger with some white bread and as much coke as I could drink. Dessert? Well, that depends? How many swiss cake rolls we got?
I wasn't encouraged to be active so I wasn't. My mom was gone to work so I just watched TV all night after the inevitable rehearsal or five hour conversation with whomever I was dating at the time. Whatever. I didn't sleep well as a result and getting up for school was grueling. I couldn't concentrate.
Then there were other things *excuses* like pining away for an older gentleman, dreaming of my career in showbiz and learning LINES LINES LINES god damnit. I did okay, but it was tough. Not because I'm stupid but because I didn't care.
Fast forward to now. I'm ready to change my life and my unhappiness in my current career choice and I genuinely want to plunge face first into the ASL program. I'm terrified that I won't be able to grasp the information. I'm terrified that my artist side will slowly be smothered under mounds of homework. I'm scared I won't like it as much as I think I will now. Ill have to quit work to do this and I'm scared that there won't be enough money.
Sometimes, even when you see them coming, you aren't ready for the big moments.
I've been dreaming of going back to school for years and I finally can. I'm so scared about it but I know that this opportunity is so rare. I have to take it, scared or no. I'm going to.
But seriously, can someone take my math tests for me?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
