Upgrading your Communication

My iPhone was on it's last legs. I've been due for an upgrade since spring, but I've been putting it off in anticipation of the newest iPhone model, and hey, even with a new contract, $200 is a lot of money. The universe keeps telling me to get a new phone though, from the achingly slow response time when I tapped the screen for an app, to the cracked back, to now, a cracked screen. So, at first I grudgingly make plans to visit the AT&T store after work, which then turned to excitement. This new phone would have talk-to-text, Siri, a way better camera, a speedier microchip, and double the gigabites as my iphone 4. I happily backed up my phone to itunes in preparation for my new, shiny toy.

As luck would have it, the closest shop to me had a note on the door that someone would be back in 10 minutes. Remembering my initial hesitation to bite the bullet in the first place, I just chuckled to myself and went to wait in the car. And I took that time to really examine what was on my phone. Did I have some weird videos/pictures/voice notes that I didn't want the sales associate to see? Nope.

So then, I start to scroll through my contacts list. I start deleting contacts left and right. It's very cathartic, like cleaning out your facebook friends list, which is also something I need to do. That one time you needed a person's number during a work trip, gone. That random guy who gave you his number, even though you have no intention of calling, gone. Exes, gone. That one guy who was a really bad kisser you hope you never hear from again, gone. The number you've had since high school or college and haven't seen the person in decade or more? Gone. And who the hell is Tony? I don't know any Tonys! Gone.

What is interesting is who I didn't get rid of. I can't say why I didn't get rid of certain people. People I haven't talked to in years, and/or people who I have no intention of talking to or seeing again. Maybe I didn't because I believe in second chances. Or maybe I feel bad for not keeping in touch or the way things ended. Maybe if they ever contacted me again, I didn't want to have to ask, "who is this?"

It's a funny thing, who stays in your phone and who doesn't. Kind of like who stays and goes in your life or your heart. There are many different reasons why a contact may or may not have made the cut. You make the choice to move on and leave something in the past, but sometimes the past can come back to haunt you. I had my new phone for just a week when I got a text from one of those numbers I didn't delete. I still don't know why that number wasn't deleted, because reason says it should have been, months ago probably. But something was different. My response. My expectations. I had finally learned something. And as the saying goes, you're either a blessing or a lesson.
.

What No One Tells You About Extreme Weight Loss

No, this isn't a blog about diet secrets and nutrition. This is about the psychological effects of dramatic weight loss, and how you don't even realize about them until it's too late.

1.) You will NOT look like the "Before and After" pictures in advertisements.

I don't care how you lost the weight. Pills, surgery, diet, exercise, sickness, any combination of these. You will have extra skin, stretch marks, flab and the appearance (I repeat appearance, not actuality) of poor muscle tone. I know I'm still working on my own "after", but I am sure that even with the aid of cosmetic surgery, I will never have a "hard" body. I will absolutely never have a "fit" body. I know everyone has their trouble spots, and I've never had the desire to have a six pack; but I feel like I will never be able to measure up to most of the female population.

Which makes me feel really anxious about myself. At first, I was really excited about a smaller size in clothing, the features of my face becoming more defined, feeling better and having more energy. But there are days now, when I look in the mirror and I don't think I look any different than I did 140 pounds ago. Last friday, I was actually late for work because I didn't look good in a thing I put on. All I see are the arms that to me, look the same size they did 3 years ago. I see how I might wear the same size as a friend but look absolutely awful in it. Or how certain angles make me look as if I never lost weight at all. Which brings me to 2.

2.) Living a healthier lifestyle physically doesn't change what made you unhealthy in the first place.

I still struggle every day with disordered eating and body image issues. Yes, now I generally eat 3 meals a day without skipping. And even though I can't eat a lot of my vice-type foods anymore, I still sometimes eat too many carbs, too much cheese, too much beer. I get really sensitive when someone makes a comment that I'm working out too hard or not eating enough, or tries to "help" me. I've actually taken to working out alone or unbeknownst to others because I don't like the comments. And I try not to be, but I'm sensitive in general to comments about people's weight and appearance. Maybe people make these comments in my presence because they assume I'm just a normal person without these issues, which is actually almost a nice idea when you're someone like me, but a part of me still gets defensive.

3.) You will wonder about people's motivations.

As a smaller human being, I can't help but notice that people are much nicer to me than they were before. This includes everyone from current friends to cashiers at Target. People are just nice to thinner people. So now, I find myself questioning what is real sometimes. This is a double edged sword though. I can't blame everyone, because as I've gotten older, smaller, and more confident, I've opened up more, and had a lot more fun being "me" than I did before. So smaller me, is more "me" than bigger me was. Maybe the walls I had put up for so long were holding me back more than the weight was. I try not to apply this to every new person I meet, every guy I go on a date with, etc.

Often times, I don't tell people I've lost a lot a weight if they didn't know me before. Except for the one guy where the date was going awful and I used it as an excuse to not go for dinner after coffee. Sorry, I'm not sorry.  Not hiding it, just don't see a point because how can I expect them to understand, or why should I unload my baggage? And to date, not one intimate partner has asked me about my scars, stretch marks, etc. If they've noticed them, it obviously wasn't a deal breaker. Maybe I'm just lucky, or maybe really no one does care except me.

4.) Plateaus suck and can last forever.

At first, I lost weight very rapidly, which was motivating. Now, I have to fight for every pound I lose. I've lost a couple recently, but that's because 1. I was sick, and 2. I removed cheese almost completely from my diet. For some reason, I have to work harder than a person who has been normal-sized or maintained their weight throughout their lifetime. Probably because I was so heavy for so long and my body is used to its fat stores. So yes, when I'm really watching, it can look like I'm not being healthy. Or it might seem odd that a hungry me is full or even sick after a slice of pizza. But there can be a method to my madness, or reason why I'm full; so rather than make a comment, ask me about it. I'm happy to tell you what my wls nutritionist has recommended I do to stay healthy. And btw, the bread/carbs in the pizza is what does me in. If I feel comfortable enough to eat in your presence, you'll notice a lot of wraps, salads, and high protein stuff and avoid sweets. That's what I have to eat to avoid feeling crappy.

I'm not trying to demotivate anyone from a healthier lifestyle or losing a lot of weight. I absolutely wouldn't trade my weight loss for anything in the world. I'd do everything again in a heartbeat. So I can feel more confident, so I can feel healthier, so I can walk forever without losing my breath. (Trying to work up to running). But don't ever let someone tell you (or don't tell yourself) that weight loss is the answer to all your problems. It's not. If anything, the biggest lesson I've learned on this journey is that your weight is only one facet of you. It doesn't matter if you are 500 pounds or 100 pounds. There's a lot more to you and your life than the number on the scale. And while certain facets may be related or blend together, no singular thing should really define you. I let it define me and I learned the hard way that changing it didn't change me.

I Have A Plan

I always have a plan.  But recently, I started wondering what that really means. And I actually didn't like what it meant for me. I always have *plans*, but maybe not a plan so much.  Those are two strikingly different things. That was never who I was though, I wasn't a constant "plans" person. True, I've always been a planner and I like lists. But I was never the person who was going out more than staying home, struggling to find time for the simplest of tasks, time for friends and family, time for herself. I never had to worry so much about how often I said "yes" or "no", because it just wasn't an issue.

Somewhere along the way though, there was some sort of shift in my calendar and in my mind. Something that made me short on time and feeling obligated to honor every single request made of me. Whether it was switching a task or shift at work, meeting a friend for dinner, a Sunday shopping trip, a happy hour, I was doing all of it. I was double or triple booking most days between two jobs and my social calendar. There was no room for impromptu anythings in my life. No treating myself with a leisurely supper of antipasti favorites with a glass of wine at home. No more random movie dates with a friend. No more dog park and cuddle days with the dogs. My netflix account hasn't been touched in months, nor have I gotten a redbox movie.

Another thing that ended up happening was that my ease with being alone changed. More than anything, I wanted time alone, but on the off chance I found a stolen evening, I would spend it in a near vegetative state. I didn't use the time wisely. I didn't catch up on chores, I didn't take the dogs to the park, I didn't go to the gym, I didn't read, I didn't call a long-distance friend. I would come home, let the dogs out, turn on the tv, and not move. God knows, half the time I didn't even bother to eat. I didn't remember how to truly relax and actually enjoy my relaxation or do something good for myself. Once I observed that behavior, I realized that if a friend told me that's how they were spending their time, I would tell them it sounds like depression.

Now I realize that's a big leap to depression. Depression is real and it's debilitating for millions of people. But I also know that if I were to continue at the rate I'm at, I could find myself in a pretty depressed state. I've been physically and emotionally draining myself for months, telling myself it's temporary, but how long is temporary before it's a lifestyle? I can set the alarm for 5am, 6am, 7am and it wouldn't matter, I'd still be sleepy in the morning. Sleeping in, something I hadn't done for years, had suddenly became common place on days I didn't have something to do in the morning. Which only fueled my anxiety because I had wasted so much of the day by the time I got out of bed.

What cost am I paying by keeping my life so busy? My mind is constantly somewhere else. I'm either thinking about what I have to do next, or I'm daydreaming about sleep for much of the time.  Some friends just (rightly) assume I'm always busy these days because I've had to say, "I can't - " so much, whether I've wanted to or not. What did I do to my health with all the stress, lack of appetite and not exercising?

So now, I have a new plan. A plan that involves simply saying "no". From now on, my time is my time alone. My first priority is going to be myself and what I need to to; I don't care if that involves scheduling down to every gym and shopping trip, every chore, dog walk or task. Then, and only then can I leave some spots open for others. I have to be the one putting things on my calendar. I'm not being a good friend if I'm never able to make approriate time, or I'm not my best self in the time we do have. Maybe by having less "plans", I can come up with a real "plan" now.

My First Health Scare

I guess it seems pretty fitting that at 30, there's some significant health issue that brings new perspective into your life. I've been reminded of and reflected on so many important things this year, and one thing you should never take for granted is your health. I know many of us do though, unfortunately.

And I should know better. As a person who actually had weight loss surgery to live help myself live a healthier lifestyle, you would think that I would be more in tune with my body and totally clean. But I still love cheese and alcohol and days under a blanket with netflix. Getting up and going the gym will always be a challenge for me, as will be cutting out some of my favorite foods. I don't miss ice cream or brownies or tons of fried food and globs of red meat. No worries there. I've done and will continue to do everything I can to keep from getting diabetes and heart disease since I have them in my family history.

But I know I'm not as "good" as I should be. I have a Primanti's sandwich here and there. I have girls night, and I don't make the dip with fat free anything. I never say no to a good a beer or a dinner with friends. So I can't say that I was completely shocked when in the beginning of September, one of the most stressful times in my career and personal life, I didn't feel well. I was working at least 60 hours a week and my "free" time was taken up with more work and prior engagements. So I was definitely not sleeping or eating well. I noticed the day after labor day that I was feeling a bit "off". I chalked it up to overdoing the holiday weekend and moving in my new living room furniture. I upped my water intake and started concentrating heavily on eating a lot of fresh veggies to get vitamins and clean out leftover toxins.

On Wednesday, I  thought I was experiencing a migraine. I get them occasionally, so I thought I could take a tylenol and wait it out as that's usually all I need. By Thursday, I was in excruciating pain. I had to take massive amounts of tylenol just to function and not to pass out from pain. Without it, every 5 or 30 seconds I was feeling a sharp pain, always in the same spot; base of my skull, behind my ear. I tried to joke that I now knew how Zeus felt giving birth to Athena. But it was worrying me. I never had a migraine like that before or for that long.

I started to worry about what it could possibly be if not a migraine. Maybe it was a tumor. Or maybe I was having a stroke. Maybe it was cancer. I had officially WebMD-ed myself and was convinced I was dying of any number of terminal illnesses or STDs even. I was terrified to even call the doctor and terrified that I was taking so much tylenol that I would go into liver failure and not wake up.

On Monday I called my doctor and they agreed to take me as a walk in that same morning.  My doctor diagnosed me with a cluster or icepick migraine do to muscle strain and stress. The prescribed me a low dose of prednisone for the inflammation and a migraine medication. They checked all my vitals and mentioned that my throat was a little raw and we attributed it to post-nasal drip and seasonal allergies. I was not 100% convinced that it could be that simple of a diagnosis, and I was still taking some additional tylenol with the meds for the first few days.

By the time I was nearly done with that round of medicine, I felt tons better, hardly any pain at all and I was no longer taking tylenol. But my throat was REALLY sore. Something told me to look in the bathroom mirror. My tonsils were nearly the size of ping pong balls and covered in white patches. Time to call the doctor's office AGAIN.

I should probably mention here that I hate going to the doctor. I was scarred from childhood and a lifetime of being overweight. It seriously took my until I turned 20 just to be able to get  shot or give blood without having to be held down. So, as and adult, I learned to approach a healthy lifestyle and use diet to prevent and treat illnesses, which worked pretty well. I rarely needed medicine, even over the counter stuff. Even my migraines were rare and totally manageable.  So I called the doctor, and played on the fact that I had just been in there the week prior and my symptoms had been observed, now they were worse. They finally agreed to call in a prescription for me, a strong antibiotic that I was on a time or two before.

I start the next round of medicine, and within 24 hours, I have a rash. It started small, faint and barely itchy on my arms. By lunchtime, it's all over my neck, chest, face and back. It's starting to swell. I know I have to call the doctor's office, but just to be sure, I see the nurse. She confirms my worst fears and gives two benadryl. The doctor's office wants to see me this time. No calling in a scrip. I begrudgingly agree and set another walk in appointment for 10:30 the following morning. That night, I take pictures of my arms and chest. I believed that since I stopped taking my anti-biotic, the rash might be gone by the morning.

Not so. I wake up and the rash is all over my body, inflamed and much darker. I get so nervous, I call my mother on the way to to hospital (where my doctor is conveniently located). I seriously consider begging her to come with me. I was so scared that they would admit me after seeing not only my rash, but also the fact that my throat was no better. I had no clue what was wrong with me, and all I can think about is how the person who never gets sick has been in and out of the doctors for the past 2 and a half weeks.  At the office they joke about how I must be getting sick of being there, little do they know how right they are and how miserable I am physically and mentally.  She expresses great concern over my tonsils, as they are so swollen that she can't even see around them; they could be abscessed and/or need to come out. She gives me the name of an ear, nose, and throat specialist. I decide to myself that I will call him, but unless I need to, I will not call until after Molly's wedding.

They give me another prednisone pack and z-pak since now I'm allergic to ceftin; they have reason to believe that I'm allergic to all "cillins". She tells me I can take an anti-histamine. I choose allegra on Molly's advice and the fact that allegra has the highest dose I can find at Walgreens.

I give this until Tuesday. The z-pak finally clears up my tonsils, thank goodness. I'll call Dr. Straka - after the wedding. But my rash is getting steadily worse. It has vacated my face and neck, but the rest of me is a mess. I call the doctor again. The NP agrees to put me on a higher dose of prednisone as well as an anti-itch pill. I feel helpless, I'm begging her, "I have a wedding on saturday..." I trail off. She agrees to pull some strings so I can see an NP at a dermatologist's office near my office.

The dermatologist's office calls me within 10 minutes. I take an appointment at 9am the next day. Unfortunately, and a $25 copay later, I find out that there's not much to be done. Ceftin is a strong anti-biotic that will not leave my bloodstream anytime soon. Time is the real cure. She writes me a prescription for a topical steroid cream and tells me to triple my antihistamine intake. She can't promise me that I'll be any less red or puffy for the wedding.

It's been 24 hours and I feel much better, I'm not sure how I'll look this weekend, but I do feel a lot less anxious.  Especially when I think about how I felt 2 or 3 weeks ago, and all the things that ran through my mind, I realize that I'm really not 22 or 25 anymore. It's really important not to neglect getting the proper amount of rest, exercise, water, vitamins. I lost 3-4 weeks of my life suffering from all kinds of ailments and worry and trying to make up for lost sleep, and putting chemical medicines in my body. I don't want that to be a theme in my life. Definitely a wake up call I needed, though.

My Best Friend's Wedding(s)

It's no secret that a large part of my 30th year has revolved around my own dating mishaps, and the successes of my friends' and their wedding celebrations. Which forces me to continue reflect on what I want, what I'm looking for, what I'm doing wrong. I celebrated my last wedding shower of the year on Sunday and this Saturday is another wedding.

If you had asked me 10 years ago what my romantic life would be like at 30, I would've been wrong in so many ways. I probably would've said something about being married, working on my own little hockey team. I even recall telling one of my best friends that I just wanted to marry a guy who maybe loved me a little bit more than I did him; because then he'd never leave me, and I was sure that would be enough. I didn't really care about anything else, including my own happiness. Disgusting, I know.

At 20, I wasn't worried about my number of sexual partners, what men wanted from me, whether or not they were lying, and I certainly never thought that I'd be 30 and still single. At 20, I was desperate to be a "grown up", and play out what I thought my image of love and marriage was. Even now as a more jaded, experienced version of myself, I thank God that I didn't marry the first man who looked my way. I am infinitely so different from who I was. If 20 year-old me had made such a life altering decision, 30 year-old me would be at best, amicably divorced. At worst, miserable with my potential progeny.

Sometimes, I long for those simpler times though. Now, I feel like I have to wade through the millions of men from ages 27-40 who may or may not have past marriages (ok), children(ok), mommy issues, fidelity issues, insecurity issues, commitment issues, chemical dependancies (past or present), and the list goes on and on. My two most common scenarios lately are this:

1. Guy leads you on for weeks. Even months. Tells you everything you want to hear. Looking for the one, babies, traveling, all that shit. Best case scenario, you have no chemistry and wish each other the best of luck. Worst case scenario you keep seeing each other, but you notice that you're not even going out together in public anymore (or to begin with). I tend to break these off as soon as I see the pattern, because I've obviously sent the wrong message about the level of commitment and relationship I'm looking for, I'm not giving it away for free.

2. Talk to a guy for a few weeks and he disappears without a trace. You know it's because he's chosen someone over you, which hey, aren't we all looking for someone? No hard feelings. But he doesn't even have the guts to tell you, which is immature and I consider a dodged bullet.

Oh, and everyone who just wants to get laid? Just wait till you're 30, okay? I don't know if it has to do with how comfortable you get with yourself at 30, hormones, pheremones, biology, what, but if all I wanted to do was have sex, I could. 7 nights a week, with 7 different partners. I'm not trying to be crude, because I still certainly don't understand why anyone would actually want to sleep with me, but there seems as though there's no lack of people willing to take it that far; just not willing to have a relationship. Unfortunately for me, but my mama would be so proud, that's not how I play the game. I want to be courted and eventually committed. So, I've had to learn that there is a reason why the best advice is still to keep your clothes on no matter what he, your hormones, or your gut is telling you. So much for being a liberated female and there "being no rules."

Listen - Somewhere, deep down inside,  I know I'm a catch. I'm certainly not without my faults. I can have a bad temper, I'm not as pretty as a movie star, I'll never be rich. I'm stubborn and defensive, and I hate being wrong. Traffic makes me absolutely insane. But I'm kind, I'm funny, educated, open-minded. I enjoy sports as much as I enjoy my girl time, so I'll never nag a guy about "watching the game" or hanging out with his friends. I like good beer, I can carry a tune, and I can cook like no one's business. I'm an excellent communicator and I think I'd make a great mother. I'm pretty classy, at least when it counts. In other words; I think I'm a keeper. I want someone to wife the shit out of me. But it seems like at 30, and in the world of instant gratification that we live in, single men aren't looking for, or are too scared to actually invest in a relationship, so there is a disconnect.

I've gotten the there's no chemistry comment after one date before. One date? When I'm nervous enough to even be sitting across from you at a strange restaurant, pushing my salad around my plate, trying to eat even when I'm not hungry so you you won't think I'm being prissy or uninterested? And I'm trying not to curse and I want to be funny and engaging and ask you all the right questions? Likewise, I've had guys want to talk about sex almost immediately. At first it's flattering, because who doesn't want to be desired? But really, you want to talk about that right away? And for the love of God, why do they ask me if my students want to sleep with me? So creepy and inappropriate and NOT a turn on. I've also had guys who have encouraged (more like demanded of) me to have no contact with any other males (including 100% platonic male friends), only to break it off after a few weeks. It all leaves me feeling very unworthy of love. It has nothing to do with feeling pretty or beautiful or smart or desired. I can be told and I feel all of those things. And don't even get me started on musicians. Any way you look at it, the message I end up receiving is that my worth lies solely in my looks and body and what it can or cannot do for a man.

Sometimes I wonder if there was some sweet spot in my mid-to-late twenties that I should have been aware of, and I missed the final departure. I can't imagine myself with man much younger than myself, but what I've observed in the single men my own age and slightly older is two things. 1. They have no intentions of settling down, or if and when they're finally ready, they'll be seeking someone younger and hotter than me. 2. They have run the the same gamut as me (or worse) and the world has affected them too much to where they aren't in a situation to seek a relationship. Sometimes, they can be both.

Now, every other week, I notice a new wrinkle in my forehead, how deep and dark my under eye circles (so common on my Eastern European side) have become, my crow's feet. All things that I don't associate with a happy bride or a new mother.  And God knows that I try, but my dress size never will be below double digits.  And a part of me tries to let go. Let go of the anxiety and disappointment I feel, let go of the life I had always wanted and assumed I would have. But it's hard to let go, because I don't know what else to hold on to. At 30, dating has lost it's fun, it's excitement. It's become an endless game of "kill, marry, or "screw" that I can't seem to win.

As I said to a friend very recently, it's not that I'm unhappy or lonely. I have a great life, and I have the most amazing friends and family I could possibly imagine. Seriously, they are the coolest. I myself, am not sad as a person. I do and go where I want.  And I'm certainly very happy for my friends and the wonderful partners they have in their lives. I would much rather be celebrating the happiness of my friends than being sad for myself anyway, so when those happy days do come around, I'm never sad for myself, I'm enjoying the company of my friends and wishing them a lifetime of happiness, as ever.  I won't be that single bridesmaid moping in the corner, mascara running down her cheeks. Well, I might shed a tear or two, but only out of pure joy and sentiment.

What Does It Take To Believe We Are Beautiful?

As much as I try not to be, I am still a victim of society to a certain extent. Like every person, I have my insecurities and doubts. But recently, I've really started to wonder what it would be like to see myself through someone else's eyes. See, until this point, I assumed that everyone outside of my closest friends and family saw me as fat, ugly, or at the very least, plain. My friends and family have always told me differently, but I was convinced that as people who loved me unconditionally, they would automatically just see me as beautiful; and while they did, that wouldn't make it true.

If anyone said anything different, I would assume it was because they either wanted something from me, were somehow impaired, or had some sort of a fetish for non-beautiful people. Wow, I think highly of other peoples' tastes, don't I? When I look at myself in the mirror or in pictures, I don't necessarily feel ugly, but I just don't think I'm neccessarily pretty. My eyes a bit too small, nose a bit too wide, uneven skin, far from perfect body. Not wholly unpleasant, but not a movie star.

I don't want to blame fashion magazines, Barbie dolls, television or films. Playing with dolls, watching films, or reading magazines never made me feel badly about myself. It was other people actually. The ones who did ridicule me for things. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't picked on a lot. Going to a small, private school did wonders for creating a family-type environment. When there are only 30 kids in your class (and that's a large class), cliques become a very abstract idea. But I was picked on. From my hair being too blonde (yes that's apparently a thing and they called me an albino), to my weight. I can honestly say that prior to those bullies (who were a few years older than I was and not in my class), I never gave my hair color, eye color, weight or anything else a whole lot of thought. I'm not saying they are the first, last, and only bullies in my life, but they certainly made a clear impression on me.

So why is it that a few negative experiences in my life have led me to believe those people over the other positive experiences? Why would anyone want to believe bad things about themselves? As I look back, I feel like there is a clear progression of how we get to that point in our lives. There's the first realization that someone doesn't find us as "beautiful" as we thought we were. In my case, it was those school-bus bullies. So that's the first chink in your armor. We get knocked off of our pedastal. It doesn't matter if it's right or wrong. The seeds of self-doubt are planted. Then, part of growing up is naturally going to be trial and error. We obssess over failures and mistakes because they confirm those seeds of doubt. We become our own self-fulfulling prophecies. The person you like doesn't like you back. You didn't make the team. You didn't get the lead in the play. You're not "popular".

People come up with all sorts of ways to cope with this. Some people become class clowns. If you can laugh at yourself first, or make your peers laugh at something else, they totally forget whatever it is you're insecure about. Some people become depressed or self-destructive, which is so, so sad. Some people become aggressive. I tried being aggressive and moody in middle school for about six months, but that didn't really make me any happier and confused a lot of people. Hell, middle school is confusing anyway. I did however, remain aggressive on the basketball court. Hello, foul-outs!

What I finally found solace in was being nice. Way too nice, actually. I let a lot of people walk all over me for way too long. I still do sometimes. I found a way to be indispensable to people in a way that I thought forced them to look past whatever it was I had been afraid of. Kind of the whole Steve Martin quote, "Be so good they can't ignore you." Well I was good, whether it was making signs for homecoming, volunteering for every charity event, boosting my sorority's GPA. But being needed is not the same thing as being wanted. I was always needed by many, but I never knew if they wanted me or not.

So fast forward several years, now I'm 30 and probably the most comfortable I've been with myself since I was 7 years old. Yet, I still don't believe it when people throw around the word "beautiful". Perhaps it's the fact that such compliments have come from people who have hurt me the most. Perhaps it's because I think that we don't tell our loved ones the truth because we love them and they are beautiful to us. But when you hear compliments over and over, when is it enough to make them valid? Do I need to be on a cover of a magazine in order to feel validated and beautiful? Because I don't want that. And even if I were voted into People Magazine's Most Beautiful list, there are still going to be people who think I'm ugly. People think Jennifer Lawrence is ugly. People think Ryan Reynolds is ugly. I think these people are insane, but everyone is entitled to their opinion. Sometimes I can't help but wonder if someone thinks that I'm prettier than they are, or if a friend is attracted to me. These are things you can't or don't talk about. It's not that I obsess over these thoughts or that they rule my life, but I do wonder, and wonder if I even knew the answer, would that satisfy me.

Maybe it's that realization that "beautiful" doesn't actually mean "I love you", "I choose you" or "I need you". That beautiful really isn't enough or what you're actually looking for after all. It's more than that.  So what I'm finally realizing is that yes, there is a shallow part of me that wants to be beautiful. I know I've got a long list of accomplishments and good qualities, and dammit I would like to count being "beautiful" among them. Sorry, I'm not sorry. But I also need to believe I'm beauitful because I will never believe it coming from someone else until I believe it for myself. That may mean faking it until I get there. And not just faking it outwardly, but really stopping the negative thoughts as soon as they enter my brain. I've got to re-train myself and become at peace with all the mean comments I've said about myself and others have said about me. When I can do that, I'll finally be beautiful again.

Pinterest Rant

I need to rant for just a second here. This was going to be a facebook status, but it got too long.

I was on Pinterest this morning looking at the "women's fashion" pins. Someone had pinned a very beautiful diamond ring. The solitare looked to be about 1.5 carats and was flawless. It was set on 3 or 4 intersecting micro-pave set diamond bands that connected on the underside of the ring into a single band. And the caption was "I want a man who can buy me this someday."

Now, maybe I'm being too sensitive sally here, but really? That's what you want? How about a man who can express how he feels? How about a man who honors and cherishes you? A man who wants the same things as you do? A man who will make you laugh? A man who will stay faithful? A man who will respect you? A man who LOVES you? His ability or desire to buy you a $10,000 ring is what you want?!

There is nothing wrong with admiring or even wanting a beautiful ring. If money were no object in my life or in my dream proposal scenario, you can bet that I know exactly what vintage, 1 carat, cushion cut, halo set ring I want. In front of my closest family and friends, while my mom bawls like a baby, even though she knew it was coming because he asked my dad for his blessing weeks ago. What? I like shiny things, okay? I am a girl afterall.

But you know what? My dream is just that. A dream. What I really want is to meet a beautiful human being that I can build a life with. And I don't care if we are middle class our entire lives. And I actually would love to have a ring made from simulated diamonds because then I know that no one died so that I could have real diamonds in my engagement and wedding rings. And I don't need some flash mob of a proposal production. Two of my friends got engaged, literally amidst a pile of moving boxes before they moved to a new State. One friend got engaged when she came home from work after a bad day and her now fiance decided to scrap his plan and he asked her before they even went out for dinner that night.

Call me old-fashioned (ha, that's a laugh), but I like to think that when you find the right person, the ring, the proposal, those things don't matter. As long as it's done with those two people in mind and done from the heart, nothing else should matter. Let's stop this voracious consumerism and instead focus on building full and lasting relationships.

We need to stop "Shaming"

One of themes I keep noticing in the media and our culture lately is how much shaming there is going on. Slut-shaming, indulgence-shaming, success-shaming, friend-shaming.

If you remember 10 years ago, Sex and the City was all the rage (with women anyway), and everyone wanted to be a Carrie or a Samantha. We wanted exciting sex lives and closets full of Manolos in our Upper East Side apartments. We'd have 3 (and only 3) best friends who all knew each other and shared the same bond.  We wanted to be writers or PR people because we would meet so many interesting people, get all kinds of perks, and be oddly introspective as we typed our columns on our laptops. Well, maybe here in Pittsburgh the fantasy is more akin to dating a couple guys on the Steelers or Pens' roster, shopping at Nordstroms, and having wine nights at our Shadyside historic house-turned apartment...

10 years ago, Miranda and Charlotte were lame and boring, too preppy, too understated. They had careers we didn't really relate to or learn a lot about. They were akin to harpies who only served as wet-blankets to Carrie and Samantha's fun-loving, careless lifestyles. They weren't on screen as much, because they didn't have a constant parade of sexual conquests, attention-grabbing outfits, or high profile successes. Miranda was all about her career and Charlotte was all about getting married: Boring!

But for the past few years, it seems that everywhere I turn, there is a facebook status update, a SomeECard, a tv program episode insulting everything from short-shorts to mothers who work too much, to being middle-aged and living like a 30 year old, to someone's choice of friends as "bad". Why? When did we get older and stop accepting people and start seeing them as threats? Is this just the fact that my peers have "gotten older and settled down" and I didn't? Did we evolve right out of some sort of phase we were in, when we wanted to take on the world and do whatever "felt right" to us at the time? Now, the in-thing seems to be having a modest career, a traditional home, stable social life, and a glitzy wedding, but regular marriage.

I recently started thinking about taking a vacation to the Caribbean soon after the New Year. To sort of say good bye to 30, it didn't kill me afterall. And as I carefully construct my plan to save money and take the first vacation I've had in 3 years, and the longest (a week) I've had in 8 years, I started to feel guilty. At least 3 rooms in my house need new flooring. I need to clean the carpets. I need to paint and re-finish the cabinets and basically gut the bathroom.  Some of the people I confide in the most, I've known less than 2 years. I've become a serial monogamist. Then, I get so overwhelmed with all that time, all that money, all that personal risk, that I just want to go sit in the fetal position and rock myself into a catatonic state because the light at the end of the tunnel is gone.

I'm feeling guilty and overwhelmed for taking a 1-week vacation after a year of weddings, breakups and working 2 jobs. It sounds insane. But at the same time, you know there would be someone out there judging me, "she's not buying new flooring, but she'll fly to Punta Cana!"

I also find myself sometimes sensoring things because I'm afraid of being judged. I've gone through some extensive personal growth in the past couple years. Yes, I had a lot of growing pains in the process, but I still feel happy with a lot of my choices and where they've led me to. But with growth comes change, and I'll freely admit that I am not the same person I used to be. That's not a bad thing at all, but I worry that without sensoring, or selectively omitting things, people may think I'm "broken" or that something is wrong; that they will think that I'm manifesting some sort of pain or trauma. I'm not any of those things. In fact, I'm embracing a part of me that I was afraid to before and becoming more myself than ever. I'm finding it easier to say "no", (this is a slow road, but I'm making progress). I'm standing up for myself, I'm not worried about offending someone every time I so much as sneeze.

"She's got a second job?!", "She's seeing someone new again?!", "She said 'No?' That's not like her." Yes, that is me. Because I'm on a quest to better myself and make myself happy. If that means that I work my ass off for a couple years so I can have nice things and to invest in my future, or if I say no because I need to some alone time, or if I don't dwell on guys who aren't worth it, so what? What's wrong with that? I'm not going to apologize for being well-adjusted or because we don't have the same life.

And that's not to say that I don't want or appreciate other lifestyles. I have many close friends who are married, both with and without kids. Families that might have one partner who is a stay at home parent. I have friends who never travel because planes scare them. Friends who don't drink or go out because they don't enjoy it. I have friends with so many interests and choices, yet with all of them, there is common ground somewhere. These friendships work, and more often than not, thrive.

I'm tired of feeling guilty for trusting my gut. I've always somehow known a lot about myself, others and relationships, all based on tiny cues and my own intuition. Sometimes, I only wish I could say my gut is wrong. So please, for whatever reason it is you are shaming, whether it's your insecurities, or your judgements, just stop. Unless you walk a mile in someone else's shoes, you have no clue what they're going through or why they do the things they do. And if you were honestly concerned about them, you'd reach out and ask.

Make new friends, but keep the old...

I'm slowly realizing that most adults in this day and age do not have the long-term and in-depth friendships that I assumed. This is not a diss to new friends at all, or anyone else. Rather to address something that has me so thankful for my friends. Whether new or old, because there are many I consider family at this point from all "eras" of my life.

Everyone is unique, and I am no exception. Most people are completely surprised to learn that I'm actually more introverted than I am extroverted.  Not bragging, but I have never struggled to make friends, although I often assume I will. Frequently, I will be anxious in social situations, but for the most part, I trusted myself and my upbringing/manners/charm to see me through. I also prefer the company of a few people to several, and I need lots of alone time to recharge my batteries. I HATE crowds, any large, noisy group. Which is funny, because sometimes I'm a commotion, all by myself. This is something I've always understood, accepted, and attempted to explain, but now, I just take for granted. I'm seen as miss social director, miss social butterfly. And I have what I feel are circles of friends. Sometimes I worry because I don't have one cohesive circle. Many of my "circles" have collided in the past, so it's not always a length of friendship type-thing. Often, I will have very close friends whom have never met each other, even though I confide in them and talk to them the same way. The opportunity has just never presented itself for them to actually meet.

I have friends who I have been friends with my entire life, since primary school and we were practically raised together. I count some of them as my "best" friends and I know their parents as if they are my own. But I can also state, with some regret, that it wasn't until at least my 20's, that I really trusted people, so I'm glad we had a history and they stuck around to see and love the person I am today and we can continue our bond.

My friends in college saw another side of me, as I slowly opened up. When you're living with people, there's lots you can't hide about yourself, your habits, your dreams.  So my friends from college were the first to see glimpses of the un-censored, non-politically correct me. The first to see and accept me being upset or mad, the first that I talked about relationships with, the first people I really "let go" with.

Let's call the present day as my late-20's, early-30's. Here is where I decided to let it "all hang out". Where I was not going to care because I had friends and family who I had begun to trust (finally), and I didn't need to be anything else. I would tell anyone who cared enough to ask the truth about anything. This was and still is a huge step for me, because I am so guarded. But in my old-age, I'm learning to appreciate my friends' advice and involvement in my life, and that it's much easier going through life being honest.

And in between you have coworkers, grad school buddies, and friends who have fallen in multiple circles. Those with whom I've instantly hit it off with because we're practically the same person, I or share some odd affinity or situation with, the people you've worked long or late hours with, the ones you trust completely. The friends who've hit it off with other friends and it's hard to remember a beginning or end.

When I think about it, so many of my friendships were unintentional. One night out with the Stooges, we tried to figure out ages, where/when we became friends, where we had all been at a certain dates in time. It was odd to think that a few short years ago, we didn't know each other, considering what we know and how we act together now;  we wished we had been friends sooner, to celebrate some important life events together, but obviously we can't go back. And in a different "circle", one of my friends' husbands can't believe the length of time we've been friends, since it spans so much more than 20 years at this point.

The important thing to remember is to above all, be yourself. Even if you are shy or anxious, as I am, you will find coping mechanisms and like-minded people. Be willing to make friends and trust them just a little. It's worth it. Also, don't worry when or how you've met someone or how long you've been friends. That's not important. As Ralph Waldo Emerson, one of my favorite writers, once said, "It's not the length of life, but the depth of life." It is the same with your friends.

The New Economy?

I know it's been a long time since my last post. I've been keeping myself pretty busy lately! Unfortunately, it's not all fun and games though. Lately, I've been lamenting the fact that at 30, I felt as if I were living like a college student. I picked up a second job; my free time (and sleep time) has taken a huge hit. Suddenly, it's been harder to get housework done, or do fun things after work with my friends. And as with any lifestyle change, you get a little anxious.

So I couldn't help but start remembering my college days, when I never went on Spring Break with my friends, and how by March I had always run out of work-study funds, ran up credit cards, couldn't get a job at the mall, and was desperately worried about the future. I actually think I was pretty depressed during my senior year, as I compounded my problems and insecurities in my mind. I felt like a huge failure and as if I would never get anywhere in life. I ran home or into the arms of my high school friends several times because I was so stressed out. My dad had many heart to heart talks with me when I would get too bad and bailed me out several times.

These days, I carry very little debt outside of my car and student loans, which are plenty enough. I think I learned my lesson about the credit cards. I also don't depend on my student ID card for my groceries, have a dog (or two) that depend on me, I live in and have furnished a 3 bedroom house, not a dorm room or apartment, etc. But I guess I was a little frustrated when I realized that it was really in my best interests to get a second job. I was a little ashamed, feeling like a woman at my age and level of education should not need a second job. But really, there is no shame in wanting to have more spending money, money to make much needed home improvements, money to start saving.  I love my job, my colleagues, and my institution. But the reality of my chosen profession is that it's not one that ever made anyone rich. So right now, while I'm young and able, I need to be as debt free as I can and save as much as I can. I need to stop being so stubbornly proud and invest in my future.

But what really changed my outlook, came today when I was on reddit, and I saw a discussion that turned out to be nothing like I thought it would be. Under the Ask Reddit category, someone posed the question, what is the craziest thing you've done to save money (or something to that effect)? I clicked on it, expecting to see that there would be a few troll answers, such as "prostitution" or "the mafia". But in my mind, I was thinking, "Oh yeah! Maybe some new recipes with bulk foods, or tips like re-using ziplock bags!" I was hoping to add some tips and tricks into my more minimalist, healthy, frugal lifestyle.

What I saw instead, were people who had gone without, taking home their free lunch from school to share with their little siblings, people who couldn't afford toilet paper, people who couch surfed or had been homeless, people who had bundled even the littlest twigs to use as firewood because they couldn't afford to plug in their only other source of heat. Some people were really ashamed about the things poverty had forced them to do. But really, a lot of them were remembering their childhood and/or times when they had no control over whatever their situation had been.

I read their stories; I felt their shame and desperation, and also I realized, I might be just making ends meet, but I was never going to be hungry. I was never going to be homeless. So what if I go without vacations, designer anything, HBO, granite countertops; I will be okay. Some of the people who posted in that discussion, they are only alive today because someone was kind enough to give them food or shelter at some point in their lives. I am very lucky to have family, friends, skills, education, two hands and two legs. For the foreseeable future, I can work, I can bring money into my household. Sure things get tight and I have to stick to the basics once in a while, but let's face it, no one really NEEDS brie cheese or a new pair of shoes to survive. Suddenly, I gained a whole new perspective because I was reminded of the difference between needs and wants, between surviving and living. And I am much closer to the "living" side of the spectrum, for which I am grateful.

I know I'm not the only one who has picked up or is thinking about a second job. It was something I thought about for the better part of a year before I finally started. And really, so far, it's been pretty good. I got a part-time job at a clothing store I frequent, where I already knew some of the other people and I knew they were short-staffed. So I get to help them out, I get a discount, and I make some extra money to put towards concert tickets, wedding presents, things for the house and so on. So my advice is, if you're thinking about a second job, do it. Sometimes I'm tired or I feel like a bad friend because I don't have as much time, but I'm learning to balance things and in the end, when I've paid down some debt and have some other things done, it will be so worth it.

An Open Letter to All College Students

Dear College Students of America,

What an interesting time in your life, to be legally an adult; able to vote and live and die for your country. To be able to enter into marriage and other contracts, or poison your body with cigarettes. All without parental consent. To have all of that freedom and all of those "perks", yet somehow not all the responsibilities. You don't feel like a kid. You're all grown. You wear what you want, you don't have a curfew, you probably even have friends who live off-campus in their own houses or apartments. Maybe you are even one of those off-campus people who "lives on their own".

I'm here to give you a wakeup call. Being a real adult is more than just an ID card that says you're 18 or 21. It's more than even just having a job or paying some bills. It's perspective. It's the way you think about and relate to the world around you. The troubles you have now will go away, but they will be replaced with bigger ones.

I want to see you as an adult, I really do. First of all, legally, you are one. And sometimes I see so much of myself in you; you're energetic, creative, fun, sometimes surprisingly insightful and compassionate. For the most part, you bring a lot to my life and you make me a better person, which I'm greatful for. But it's really hard to see you as a grown up sometimes. You don't have patience. Like Veruca Salt, you want it all, and you want it now. You focus, sometimes even obssess, over things that don't matter. You're unprofessional, from showing up late to class to wearing leggings to the Career Fair.

Being as involved on campus as I am, I get the opportunity to observe you every step of the way. How are you are in class, in clubs, doing service projects, participating in professional development. And let me tell you, despite that I still believe you have good intentions, you miss the mark a lot:

1. You blame others for your problems. You know who does that? A child does that. A grown up accepts responsibility and learns from their shortfalls. None of us are perfect. Never screwing up doens't make you an adult, and refusal to accept that makes you look even more immature.

2. While you blame others for your mistakes, you're also less than gracious when others make mistakes. Everyone these days is busy, stretched too thin. Yet, you only see a person in relation to what you want from them, not the whole of that person. And when things don't go your way, my, do you ever criticize. You are the first to point it out and you're less than kind or tactful about it. Don't forget that other people have feelings, too.

3. You get angry about the most asinine things. I'm sorry, but winning Greek Week does not get put on a resume. Stop worrying about flag football and who is taking who to the Blizzard Ball. Some things, like intramurals, Greek Week, dances, and open mic night, are simply designed for you to have FUN! Now yes, I'm competetive too.  From wanting the cutest outfit to being the best I can be on the field or the best singer at karaoke night, so I can see why it can matter to you. But it's about making memories, not about winning.

Instead-

4. Focus on what you SHOULD be doing in your clubs and activities, like taking on leadership roles, winning honors, AND KEEPING YOUR GRADES UP! Those are the things that matter, those are the things that develop skills and get you jobs.

5. Speaking of jobs, you have no clue what it means to be professional. From improperly addressing an e-mail (they're mail, not text messages, so treat them that way), to the sandals, leggings, skinny jeans (jeans at all!) and 5 inch heels I see you wearing at job fairs. In the 9-5 world, you will not be communicating or dressing the way you are now. So try to put professionalism into practice, ASAP.

6. You have a lack of foresight with money issues. You say you don't have the money to buy a suit, study abroad, pay your tuition. Yet, you're at the mall, you're at the bar, you're on spring break, you have unlimited data on your iPhone 5. Invest in some professional clothes. Invest in your education. Save what you can. It's more than worth it. Ten years from now, what's a few less Playstation games or bar nights when you have less loan debt or can boast a semester in Greece on your resume?

7. You're great with ideas and theories, but individuals, not so much. You all want to change the world, which is admirable. But before you can change the world, you must start within yourself and the people around you. You look like a hypocrite when you raise money for charity, but then turn around and make fun of someone or cuss them out. "Charity starts at home."

Even those of you who are normally mature and seem put together falter. I don't expect you to be perfect, but you do need to understand that you are not exempt from the rules just because you're a star. The world doesn't revolve around or stop for you. You have just as much right as anyone else to let off some steam, cut loose or be a bum once in a while, but never at the expense of others or against the established rules of conduct. Right now you're a big fish in a small pond. That's going to change. Another big fish or even a shark will come along or you'll graduate, and before you realize it, you're a small fish in an ocean. And all the little fishes you once overlooked or stepped on, they won't be there to help you navigate or lend you a hand.

I'm only making these points because I think you are completely capable adjusting your perspective a little bit. It's time to start seeing the big picture because it's a big world. Not only does this make life easier for the people around you, but you'll have a better time too. Realize that the priorities that you have now are very temporary and fleeting, you must start transitioning into what you truly value and in long-term goals. Not only will you feel less stressed now, but it will make going from college to career less stressful and almost seamless.

Be well and love each other,

Stacy

"Nice Guys"

Something which I felt the need post about because I've been reading about it a lot lately: What is the deal with "nice guys"? I see it on the Reddit forums, I read it in articles online, and I've seen it with my own experience dating. A lot of men label themselves "Nice Guys", and all I see is how bitter and disrespectful they are. I personally, have never once whined about being a "Nice Girl". I think I get friend zoned, but I don't blame it on people. I'm just a great friend, rarely act on my emotions, and I'm ordinary enough where I can fit that friend category well. But you know what? That is not the only reason why you should date someone. What about what else we have in common? What about how attracted we are to each other? Lifestyle? Values? Chemistry? Those things are important too, so I don't get too bent out of shape. You can't force these things.

One of my favorite movies is "The Wedding Date" with Debra Messing and Dermot Mulroney, you should check it out. Debra's character hires Dermot's character to be her date to her little sister's wedding so that she doesn't have to face her overbearing family (mother) and the best man (her ex) alone. His character tells her that, "every woman has the exact love life she wants". I'm not saying this is true of everyone or every situation, what strides is a person living in their parents' basement, spending 99% of their life playing WoW and on reddit making to find a life, let alone a love life? Or the people who stubbornly ignore the boundaries set by others? I've tried online dating and I set very exact parameters because I don't want to waste anyone's time. I want my own family, so I don't want someone more than 10 years older than me, and I want to have a proper relationship despite my busy schedule, so I don't want someone too far from me. Yet, I would receive message after message from men in their 40's and 50's, or from far away states. One man (in his mid 40's) went so far as to send me multiple messages and then a nasty message telling me that men resort to obscene messages because women "like me" ignore "nice guys like him".  I didn't decline his advances because he was "too nice" or for any superficial reason. It was because in my profile, I stated my preferences, he ignored them. I told him it wouldn't work and why, yet he continued. What part of that, or his final e-mail to me was "nice"?

The point is, it wasn't nice. Not at all. It seems to me, that some men think that just because they don't look like Ryan Reynolds, or act like a "bro", they're automatically a "nice guy". Or just because someone hurt them, they are a "nice guy". Guess what! You're not. Every person out there is different and has a story.  For example, I really wouldn't categorize anyone I've personally dated as a "bad guy". Not right for me, well, yeah. In my adventures though, there have been friends made, horrible first dates, broken hearts, you name it. That's what dating is, though! It's not all sunshine and roses. If you let it make you hard or bitter, that's on you. That's not on me or any other woman to restore your faith in dating or fix you. You have to do that yourself. No one owes you a date, a relationship, or sex, just because you're "nice" or don't "force" yourself on us, ("Gee, thanks for not kidnapping/killing/raping/beating me, I guess I should be grateful."/sarcasm). Also, re-think your definition of "nice". Is it being polite and putting other's first? Is it going out and meeting like-minded people? Is it being the best version of yourself and happy BEFORE you start looking for love and casting judgement? Because it should be.

So anyone out there, guy or girl, who wants to call themselves "nice", check yo self 'fore you wreck yo self.

Don't go changing

A few weeks ago, I was out with a large group of friends, and as it always does, the conversation came around to dating. All of us are in that 25-35 range and at different places in our relationship statuses, but most of us are unmarried. We talked about how long you should wait before bringing a significant other around your friends. Maybe not talking about your *best* friends or your roommate(s) if you have them, because that's kind of unavoidable and happens naturally. But friends meaning your other relatively close friends or colleagues you see really frequently.

While I have never been one to rush a relationship along, I realized that I was kind of the minority because I don't really care or think about the timing of that introduction. And as I sometimes tend to do,  I good-naturedly chided one of my friends. Being that we were the oldest two in the crowd, I pointed out something I learned in the past year or so.

At this point in my life, I'm not worried about being something I'm not or being picky about whom meets whom and when. Not only am I a horrible liar, if I were to be in a relationship, I would want it to be with someone who is going to enjoy or at least accept the things I do and the people I choose to spend my time with. I'm not saying that I'm going to forego makeup, stop going to the gym, quit cleaning the house, or let my manners go out the window. I'm not saying that a person can't change or experience growth once you hit this point either, I very strongly believe in personal growth at all ages.

But when a person (as in myself) is 30, has an established career, circle of friends, routine, hobbies, etc. You tend to not want to waste your time with someone who won't fit into all of that. I know life changes when you meet the right person; priorities change and a relationship progresses. And you need things and friends for yourself, or at least I know I do. I don't expect a man to want to come with me to a musical or the spa with me. And it's okay if he likes monster trucks and nascar. We don't have to share every interest.

I don't believe in soul mates, which I know so many people do. I believe in great loves and many things, but not soul mates. I believe I have a soul, but I believe it is mine and God's. It doesn't belong to someone else. This is because, to me, relationships are a combination of timing, chemistry, and a common way of thinking/lifestyle. There are men out there who can build a life with, and likewise, I am one of several women they can build a life with. The question is, when are we both ready and will we be in each other's lives at that point? Will we figure out what we want to be together and will that happen for both of us at the same time? Maybe we've known each other for years or maybe I haven't met him yet.

The thing is, while I know there's lots of room for growth in my life, there are a lot of things I refuse to change or give up. Those things will always be a part of me. I don't see a reason why I should tailor anything from my taste in music to my schedule for someone else. Maybe I will acquire new appreciations, hobbies and habits, but it shouldn't be in pursuit of someone, it should happen naturally. Because if I have to force it (whether they ask me to or not), then I'm pretty sure it's already doomed.

Everyone Dies Famous in a Small Town

To anyone outside of this region and to strangers, I am a "Pittsburgher". My location label on Twitter is "The 'Burgh".  Even on facebook, I list it as my hometown. Pittsburgh is like home to me. My field trips were to the Carnegie Museums and Science Center, Heinz Hall, Kennywood, the Pittsburgh Zoo, Pitt's Cathedral of Learning. I watched Mario Lemieux lift Stanley Cups for two years in a row, fight Hodgkins, return to the ice, and save the Penguins not once, but twice. I watched Bill Cowher replace the legend (wait for it) ary Chuck Noll and become a legend in his own right. My grandfather worked in steel until the day he retired in 1983. I'm exceedingly proud of this city and how it's gone from steel and old-school to "green" and cosmopolitan. All without losing its character and the proud ethnicities that are represented in the neighborhoods, shops, and restaurants.

But technically speaking, I didn't grow up within those city limits. Or even Allegheny County for that matter. Nope, I grew up in "the County", as we fondly call it. Beaver County that is. A place known for being backwards, uncouth, and where everyone is either a hick or "ghetto". It seems there is no in between where I grew up.

Sometimes, it's a source of embarrassment. Such as last week, when a receptionist didn't understand a lyric on someone's ringback tone which then resulted to my school district going on lockdown. Who doesn't know the lyrics to "The Fresh Prince of Bell Air" theme song?! Although, this is not the first time Ambridge High School was in the national news in my memory. When I was in 8th grade, some graduating senior women were banned from their National Honor Society Induction because they wanted to wear pantsuits instead of dresses or skirts. My own senior year, I proudly walked out of the school and protested a ban on white t-shirts. This was after our new principal banned them as "under garments"; he had suspended, then publicly shamed one of my classmates in the auditorium upon his return from suspension.

In that way, I have often tried to deny AHS, or even Beaver County as a whole. I'm NOT ghetto or a hick. I like the ballet, I cheer for the Pittsburgh teams, I can navigate the entire city without GPS. I belong to the city. I never actually lived in Ambridge, I live in Economy, it's on the county line, just count me as Allegheny instead. But I actually personally never had a problem with my high school, my county or my youth, I was only fighting the stereotypes that people had about it.

I like being from a small town. I like that my name means something here and is connected with my ancestors, who are well loved and remembered. I like that I went to the same high school my dad, my aunt and my cousins did. I like that my great grandfather settled here from Tennessee, built a home and a family business right in a tiny, rural boro, when it probably didn't have a stop sign yet. Not that we have many stop signs now, but you get the gist. My own grandfather picked his lot to build on because when looking at the land, he was walking and startled some quails into flight. Being an avid hunter and fisher, he took that as a sign. His brother, my uncle Jack, built his house just down the street.

I like that 10 minutes from my house, there is bar that has karaoke on Friday and Saturday, everyone sings good (not fake) country music, and pitchers of Iron City Amber are $7. Because you know what? That is some fun times right there. I like that for where I live, I legitimately need a 4x4 because the roads are windy, hilly, old, and dark. I like that one of my best friends lives in a log cabin up a quarter mile long, gravel driveway. I like that in high school, we made our own fun, even if it was sometimes destructive, dangerous, stupid, or unglamourous. We were never rich, we were never cosmopolitan; some may say that's why we were so "behind" the times. But I don't think we were. We liked the same music, fashion, tv shows, etc. as everyone else did. We were just somehow more real.

It's not that I don't know anything different. Even within my small "backwards" school district, many ethnicities, faiths and background were always represented. In college, I lived on campus, was a member for a sorority and studied in Ireland. I've done a fair amount of traveling. After school I moved around, including living in the city for a couple years. Throughout my lifetime, I've always been exposed to different places and people in several different ways, from family vacations to road trips to field trips and everything in between.

Yes, I am happy to visit the "Great White Way" and see a show such as Les Miserables, visit my crew in Jersey and take a trip to Hoboken for cannoli from Carlo's Bakery, relax at an all-inclusive resort in the Carribbean. I've done them all and I'd do it a million more times if could.

I enjoy a good craft beer, fancy foods, girlie martinis. I love to dress up and have a pinterest board full of fashionable outfits. I own the 6-season boxed set of Sex and the City. I do consider myself as a relatively cultured person. I'm not especially naive, and most of the time I can not only behave myself, but enjoy myself in any situation.

But I choose my small town life because the grass really isn't always greener. Sure, I do see things occassionally that I'd like to turn my nose up at. And I miss how close I was to things when I lived in the city. Sometimes people are close-minded or un-evolved in my mind. For all of those situations, there's something I appreciate though, like how I feel that the sense of community and tradition has not been lost. There's almost a Mayberry-esque quality to it. Everyone knows everyone, everyone wants to help. Sometime it does seem a little small, and there are certainly things that get on my nerves.

Seeing a friendly face almost everywhere you go is a comforting and enjoyable thing. I get my doses of the big city when and where I can, which is relatively often; from catching a concert to hanging out with friends, to a sporting event. It's only 20 minutes away. Some say 20 minutes and a couple of decades, but I don't feel that way. I'm happy to be somewhere that has always accepted me, whether I was at the shooting range with my dad, or  dressed to the nines and stopping to get some cash out for a night out on the town. Which is more than I can say for some "evolved","cultured" people I know. Apologizing for the place I grew up and the village that helped my parents raise me is like apologizing for being me, and I refuse to do that.

What's your biggest weakness?

What IS your biggest weakness?

This is a question I ask students all the time to get them practicing for job interviews, and it seems so routine to me now. But this week, I'm looking at it in a different light. For those of you who are Christians, you are currently observing Lent. For those not famililar, Lent is a period of 40 days, beginning with Ash Wednesday and culminating with the crufixition of Christ. Which then of course, is followed by the celebration of Easter afterwards. 40 is relevant because Jesus fasted for 40 days and 40 nights in the wilderness while being tempted by Satan; also the duration is mentioned several times in the Old Testament. It is 6 weeks where Christians are to reflect, not only on the Jesus' final days and message, but also on themselves and to repent for their sins and engage in some penance or self improvement to prepare for His ressurection.

My given name, Stacy, is the Irish form of Eustace, meaning fruitful or steadfast. But it is more familiarly known as the short form of the Greek Anastasia, meaning ressurection. So it's no suprise that I would be constantly trying to improve and re-invent myself. Not in the Madonna way of reinvention, though.  Being a Christian, even if I'm sometimes a bad one, I still try to observe Lent. This is because I believe that regardless of my religiousness (is that a word?) or lack thereof; reflection, transcendance and improvement are valuable lessons for everyone.

In the Catholic faith, you are taught to abstain or "give something up" for Lent. Many people give up things such as smoking, drinking, candy, tv, basically giving up a vice. This is to serve as a reminder of the sacrifices that Jesus made in order to grant believers everlasting life. I think it also serves to remind us that many people have gone without these things and remain without these things.We can too, and with all of our extra time or money, we could do something constructive with it. Some people decide that instead of giving something up, they add to their lives by giving back or doing something good for themselves, their family, or their community. Catholics also fast and/or abstain from eating meat on Fridays during Lent. This fasting used to last for all 40 days, but obviously the Church has bent the rules over the centuries. You can still eat fish when fasting because of a deal the Church struck with the fishermen. Think about it, Italy (where the Pope is) is a penninsula. If for 6 weeks no one bought fish, it would be bad news.

But I digress, as usual.

I, like so many other Christians in the world have been doing some self-examination and thinking about things I should improve upon. I have a great many vices I'm working on, but they are only one of the facets of myself that I can work on. One thing that I've been noticing about myself is that I like to control a conversation. Not necessarily do all the talking, because that is exhausting. But I like to control the tone, the occurance, the approach, the frequency. And I absolutely depise being questioned or challenged. I don't know where this defensive streak comes from, nor do I know exactly how long I've been that way. Yes, I'm stubborn; who doesn't like things their own way? That's not news to me. But lately, I've been noticing that I cringe when people say "Hi", because I don't want to engage in conversation. I feel supremely annoyed that they dare talk to me.  Or if they ask me a question in conversation, I immediately see it as doubt and get defensive. I never thought I was like that, and it's definitely not a habit I want to keep.

I've known for a long time that I'm naturally introverted, that I need lots of alone time, and I live inside my head, but I never thought of myself as a humbug, a cold scrooge. When I catch myself doing those things, that's what I feel like though. I could make excuses, but the reality is that everyone is over-worked, underpaid, tired, whatever. This comes down to my responsibility to be a better person. 99% of the people I'm around, no matter how much money they make, where they live, when their last vacation was, they're all fighting this same fight. While maybe I'm better than some, I'm still not being the person I want to be. And even if the emotion isn't making it's way to the surface and isn't noticible, it's only a matter of time before it does.

In fact, I recently got this in the interoffice mail:

My coworkers and I send stuff to each other all the time as inside jokes or cute messages. I have no way of knowing who sent it, if this was what they wanted me to read in the article, or why the article made them think of me. But, no matter the reason, this was a definite reminder to me that maybe I should stop being such a prickly burr.

Maybe if I'm getting so defensive, I am not as sure of myself as I think I am. Why else do people get defensive? Having a chip on my shoulder is something I've had for a long time for many reasons, but it's never reared its head this way before where everything was a challenge to me. It makes me think that I don't want to think about my motivations or my potential shortcomings. I've never liked repeating myself, and I've always felt that was understandable, but there is no reason why I should feel so put off by explaining myself. If I don't want to face my weaknesses, then I cannot expect change or improvement. It's not enough to want to change. You have to understand why you should change, what needs to change, and how to not to revert.

I'm a big believer that "if the shoe fits, wear it". Often, when I see people having disproportionate reactions to statements or situations, I discern that they are hiding something or feeling defensive. I don't want to be one of those people who are going around being a victim or is hard to talk to because I'm always reading into things defensively. So while working on all the external things I normally work on during the Lenten season, internally, I'm going to start with more positive thinking and reflection: hopefully that will help my mindset be more open and friendly, if for no one else but myself.

Does he provide her with health insurance?

If you got my Big Bang Theory reference, then yay, we are probably great friends. If not, I'll explain. Sheldon's character is socially inept, although he's a brilliant scientist. In one particular episode, he asks what "friends with benefits" are. And truth be told, the first thing I think when I hear the word "benefits" is health insurance. Maybe because I am so concerned with health and well being, especially now that I realize that I'm not 18 anymore.

Yet, I think I'm a bit more socially educated and progressive than Sheldon, so I know what "friends with benefits" are. And I'm all for that. What two consenting adults do together is none of my concern and I've always felt that way. Yes, I know how it works. You get to have the physical part of a relationship, without the emotional strings. Drama free, no obligations. People have biological needs, okay? It's your body, you do what you want with yours, let me do what I want with mine and we're square.

But, what are the other rules? Like, can you have more than one FWB at a time? What happens if you meet someone and you want to actually date them? Do you then dump your FWB? How do you dump a FWB? What's the social media protocol? Do you follow each other on Twitter? Do you ask how their day was? Is being FWB kind of like have a one night stand with the same person, several times?

I like to think that I'm pretty non-traditional, but there are reasons why it seems the overwhelming majority of people seek out relationships or at least the appearance of a relationship. The reasons range from moral to functional to financial, which are again, your business, not mine, but they make sense. I know it's something I personally prefer to other situations.

Don't let Hollywood trick you, I'm sure it's not like that Ashton Kutcher and Natalie Portman movie, or the Mila Kunis and Justin Timberlake movie. But, by the same token, I bet it can be difficult if one or both parties start to develop feelings which is why those movies exist. In an anti-relationship, where do those feelings go? There isn't a place for them. Well, what do we know about emotions that don't have an outlet? They have to manifest somewhere. And that somewhere can be unhealthy.

I'm not trying to ruin anyone's game here. I'm sure for a lot of people, it works. Maybe you're a busy person and not looking to date someone. Maybe you suck at relationships and would rather not have one. But what I am trying to learn is where the "drama free" part is.

Further Down the Rabbit Hole

This blog has certainly been a place for reflection for me, and while I was working on a different entry, I felt compelled to write about something else this week before it escaped me. What was so diverting, you may ask? Feelings and what goes left unsaid. Don't worry, my pity party from last week has ended, I'm currently referring to generalities.  After writing about the lies we tell and the unpleasant realities in the search for love, I didn't want to lose the momentum of thought I was experiencing.

First, I made the observation that we leave a great deal unsaid in our lives. The "I miss you", "please don't go", or "take me with you". The "I love you", or "I'm falling for you". Or how about "No, I'm not okay" or "No, I can't do this"? "I'm proud of you" or "I'm hurt". I don't know about you, but there are a great many things that I don't say every day.

I am familiar with the old adages that "Some things are best left unsaid" and "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all". And often, these are excellent pieces of advice. Believe it or not, I don't always just want to watch the world burn. Rocking the boat has it's time and place.

This a two sided coin though. On one hand, how different would our lives be if we shared some of those feelings more often? If you've been reading, I'm sure you've realized by now that I wonder "What if?" sometimes and there are times that I wish I'd been more open with my feelings. How many opportunities have passed us by because we've left things unsaid or done? How many situations have merited my input or thoughts, and I withheld them? It's not good to dwell on these, but maybe we can learn from them.

On the other hand however, how much of what we have felt has been fleeting or false? To acknowledge things out loud can make them too real, and that's not always a good thing. Once something is spoken or done, it can't be taken back. When I think about all the emotions I've felt, or the impulsive things I have said and done, there are a few I wish I could take back. I've said things or felt things, both good and bad, that in hindsight just didn't make sense. In those cases, it is better to leave things unsaid.

And what about others' feelings? Sometimes you have to hold in that secret because it's what is best for someone else or the greater good. When honesty is the best policy fails, spilling your guts to relieve your own mind isn't really fair. Sure, it makes for a great scene in a film; girl tells lonely boy she loves him before he catches a plane to go across the country and pursue his dream. Boy stops girl from marrying Mr. Perfect just before she says "I do" because he's finally realized what he let go. Great at the cinema. But what happens after that climactic, emotional moment? In the theater, the credits roll. In real life, there are consequences.

Yes, the world has jaded me, and yes, I've built plenty of walls. I do want to work on that because I know I have a lot to learn. And let's face it, perhaps being a sentimental person is my last and bravest frontier since I've tried everything else. But that doesn't change the fact that we all leave things unsaid. We have to. The key to this though, is using wisdom to tell us what should and shouldn't be said. Because emotions and feelings can be so temporary, and our words or actions can affect others, a judgement call must be made. Which brings me back to advice I heard many years ago, and seems applicable in almost any situation:

Ask yourself, "How will this affect me in 1 year/5 years/10 years?"

Opportunity cost is something we will always have to deal with in life. We miss opportunities every single day and make these choices all day long. What to eat for lunch. How to phrase that e-mail. Should I buy those shoes? Say "yes" to that date? Tell someone how I feel?

Some choices are bigger or more important than others, but we shouldn't agonize over every decision. We would never wonder "what if" in reference to our choice of clothing every day. Likewise, we shouldn't devote so much time to wondering the same thing about our high school crush, our deceased loved one,  the job we didn't take. For every choice you make, the other half of the equation remains. At best, we are grateful for the wise choices, but we never dwell on the negative that *could* have happened. It's the unwise or impulsive choices that tend to leave us with regret.

I say, let go of your regret, my friends. We are all leaving things unspoken and asking ourselves the same questions. Opportunities come and go, as do our emotions. Treat each other well and put forth good karma. It will be okay.

It's my party...

I try really hard to avoid the whole issue around Valentine's Day, aside from a totally superficial standpoint. As in, I'll use it as in excuse to send dumb stuff through the interoffice mail, or have heart shaped foods at a girls night at my house. But anything more, I feel is a waste of time at this point in my life. If I love it, I'm a mushy, romantic, sentimental, silly woman. If I hate it, I'm a bitter, hurt, obviously single woman. I can't win, nor do I care to.

I actually don't mind the idea that people everywhere take a day to let each other know how loved and appreciated their spouse, significant other, friends, family, etc. are. So many people use the argument that, "You shouldn't need a special day to tell someone you care."  I don't follow that logic. Because if that's the case, we don't need birthdays to remind us that we're happy someone was born (or relieved they made another year). We don't need Christmas or Passover or Ramadan to remind us of our faith. We don't need St. Patty's Day or San Rocco or Oktoberfest to remind us of our heritage or culture.

Really, we don't need any of those holidays. But we keep them. It's tradition. They remind us of what's important. It's a way to celebrate and bring people together. So is Valentine's Day. Think about it. How much do you take the people in your life for granted? See last week's post about lying if right now you're saying that you don't. You do. I do. We all do. I have a really difficult time expressing my feelings, sentiment especially. I can't even do it through greeting cards where someone else writes the words for me! More often than not, I give out funny ones. Even to my mom. Even for Mother's Day.

As much and as deeply as I might love someone, and I try to never mistreat them or take them for granted, I'm sure there are times that they feel taken for granted or wonder how I feel. Because I absolutely never say it, and I don't always show it. Believe me, if you've received so much as a compliment, or dare I say, affection from me, I really mean it and you mean a lot to me.

This year was going to be like so many others for me. It's just another day; do nice things for people, tell my friends and family I love them, and go on with my day. Forget that in the past year and a half, I've been in my own personal emotional rollercoaster. I'm great at rationalizing and compartmentalizing though, and I thought that I came out of it all relatively unscathed. Besides; I have so much to be thankful for.

Then this weekend though, for about the zillionth time, someone mistook my best friend for my boyfriend. And then, I remembered how alone I really was, and how having so many friends of the opposite sex can give people the wrong impression or complicate things. Compounded by the fact that I started feeling feelings (I hate that), and ran into people or saw things that were absolutely not part of my weekend plans.  So from Friday night on, I've pretty much been having a massive pity party for myself.

Why is it that in a world where technology and money are king, and we take each other for granted, is "love" such a driving force?  For so many of us, it's what we base much of our personal success on. Maybe it all comes down to biology. That factor that we can't ignore and leads us to want find someone and procreate. Pass on our DNA, leave a legacy. And the fear of dying alone.  I can't seem to avoid it. At my age, my grandparents had 4 kids. My parents were married. My other set of grandparents was married and had their 2 kids. And while life expectancy has increased and we live longer, arguably fuller lives, our window of procreating or being "conventionally attractive" has not increased. And ladies, men don't face this argument the way we do, if at all. I can't blame them. If this is an argument of science, science has shown that they can father children their entire lives. So if they're breathing, biology is on their side. As is thousands of years of culture and socialization.

I could blame my mother, as many women do. She would happily accept a marriage or grandchild (planned or unplanned) tomorrow. I can also blame society, another popular scapegoat. But the truth of the matter is, as hard as I've fought to be my own person, I made the decision to embrace this mother/wife role on some level, a long time ago, myself. So while I would love to remain the standoffish, unflappable person I strive to be, I'm faced with a reality that many women my age are also facing: the idea that "it" may never happen for you.

"It" being a traditional marriage and babies. Because believe it or not, the ice queen herself, miss independent, daddy's girl, Annie Oakley wannabe actually wants that. On my own terms of course; as my fictional hero, Elizabeth Bennet said, "I am determined that nothing but the deepest love could ever induce me into matrimony." But I still wanted it. I am so jealous of my friends who remain ambiguous on this. Because while there is that margin of error for regret for them, I already feel a sense of regret to my core. Regret, despite my best efforts. Despite the fact that I love my career, have a masters, have amazing family and friends.

As I write this blog, I'm actually ashamed of myself for being depressed about this. So many people in this world would kill for this life and the things I've accomplished. And it's a wonderful life. My family, friends, and colleagues are amazing people I wouldn't trade for anything. I'm always busy doing something fun with them. I know that lifestyle would change if I were to meet someone, get married, and have kids, so I do appreciate that. I  know a lot of people sometimes wish they had the free time or options I have. It would definitely be hard to give up.

I don't know if it's the embarrassment for being sad, faith that I'll come to terms, or just plain a lack of time, but I decided that by Valentine's Day, I had to stop this pity party on it's tracks. The only problem is that I don't know how. When it comes to so many things, I at least have an idea. Drain doesn't work? Shut off the water and take apart the pipes. Gizmo is being weird? Feed him, make sure he has water, let him out, and play with him. Cupcakes are flat? Try new baking powder. Emotional things, I'm not so good at. I observe and advise people for a living. I'm more self aware than most. But I've completely hit a road block here. This may not be an easy or quick fix. I don't know if it's just time, or figuring out what it could be that will fulfill me the way I felt about being Suzie Homemaker. My only idea right now is being a modern-day gypsy. I could travel, sing, advise, be a storyteller...It would be interesting.

A lot of my friends have told me, "It will happen", or "You're still young!" I appreciate it, because I know it comes from a place of loving me and realizing that I'm totally awesome. And I know that I have the next 50 or so years of my life to meet someone. I'm not saying that I'm now rejecting something that I wanted. But not everyone does meet someone. Not every woman who wants to be a mother becomes one. Remember from last week's post, I don't like sugar coating, and this is just reality. Why should I keep clinging to something that may or may not happen? I'm not really closing a door as much as I'm looking for more doors. There are things that I can go out there and try or do or acheive. I can make those happen. Hell, I might even enjoy it.

In many of my blogs, so far, I've tried to wrap some wisdom in my words. But I feel that this week, I don't have anything to specific to impart. Honestly, I'm not normally like this. I don't like feeling all emotional and helpless or desperate. I even hesitated in writing this entry because I didn't want to expose that side of myself. I've edited this a million times, trying to find the right words or tone. But I want to look back some day, no matter what happens, so I can remember this and reflect on it. I will leave you with this: to the single girls out there who feel conflicted, you're not alone. And to those not single, I hope you feel fulfilled and are still having fun, whether you've been together 2 weeks or 40 years.

The Lying Game

"I'm okay"
"I don't think about her/him anymore"
"It will get better"
"I'm better than she/he is"
"I'm right"
"I deserve/earned this"

These are a sampling of the lies we tell ourselves every day. And it's not a question of if we lie to ourselves. It's what lies do we tell ourselves and why.

It's too hard to have conflicting thoughts or values; it leads to anxiety, fear, etc. We call this cognitive dissonance. Then, we tell ourselves something to stop the dissonance.  But how deep do you go with your false realities? Do you seek out information to confirm what you want to hear? Do you justify or rationalize?

Sometimes these lies we tell ourselves are what we need to say in order to make it through the day so we can do it all again tomorrow. Sometimes they are truths that we don't quite believe or can't see yet. As much as I value being honest, honest with myself and with others, I find myself sugar coating things because I've deemed the alternative unacceptable. Sometimes I just have to "fake it until I make it"; I tell myself something until it is true, or until whatever it is causing me to be anxious has passed and it's no longer an issue.

I'm not trying to be depressing here, quite the opposite. I want you to know that you're not alone. Even a blunt, forthright person like myself has to tell herself little lies. We need these lies for many different reasons, but make sure you're examining your reasons closely. How invested are your getting in your lies? How is that affecting your relationships? How is that affecting the relationship you have with yourself? Are you building a world where things are positive or negative? Did you forget or lose the truth at some point?

What of the lies we tell each other? Some of the lies you tell yourself, you tell others as well. It helps make them more believeable, it helps validate them. And I don't know about you, but I am quite guilty of the lie of omission. There are a great many things I don't tell others because I'm convinced that no one will understand, or they won't feel the same way I do, or I'll misinterpreted.

One of my trade secrets: Because of this lie of omission, I've become an excellent communicator in other aspects, and an expert listener. The more I can steer the conversation around small talk, the other person, current events, anything else, the less I have to reveal. I've developed this because I realized that when you're quiet, people know, or think they know, that you're deep in thought. Or that something is bothering you. Or that you're shy. Then, they spend a lot of time and attention trying to draw you out. Well, the best defense is a good offense, so why not prevent that whole cat and mouse game?

Then, there are the lies we tell others because we know it's what they want to hear.

"Oh yes, that looks great on you!"
"No, I don't think it's a big deal"
"You're right, So-and-So is a bitch!"
"Don't worry, everything is going to work out"
"No, it won't be that hard"
"You can totally lose 50 pounds in 12 weeks!"

I try not to tell these too often, because I'd rather be respected for my integrity, than only kept around as a yes-woman. A lot of it has to do with how receptive the listener is. If I know they are in no way, shape, or form looking for honesty, nor would they appreciate, let alone welcome it, I lie. But with my close friends, or with important things, I try to never lie, or at least sugarcoat a big grain of truth in my answer.

Not to mention the lies we tell to "get out" of something.

"I'm sick"
"I'm busy"
"I forgot"
"I have a family thing"
"I have to work"

Of course this is a specific situation, but I was with a faculty friend of mine who happened to be giving their first exam of the term. During our short meeting, they recieved no less than 5 e-mails, a mere two hours prior to giving the exam. Every exuse from headache to "forgetting" to having too much on their plate. Are you kidding me?

My point is, there are situations or individuals where this type of lie is a pattern. Not a coincidence, not a last minute wrench in the plans. These are deliberate lies. And they are very easy to see through. Yes, things happen, the world isn't perfect. But unless you're telling the truth, or some kind of a pathological liar willing to commit to and live in a false reality, these are poor excuses for something you just don't feel like doing. Come on, at least be honest.

You see, lies are only a short term answer. They are simply bandaids for things that only time and the truth can heal. A person willing or ready to face the truth will finally fix the things that are wrong so they won't need to lie anymore. But the question is, how much damage are you doing in the meantime with the bandaids? Everyone knows that wounds need the proper amount of oxygen to heal. Smothering them with a bandaid, especially the wrong bandaid, or keeping the bandaid on for too long makes them worse. And sometimes, ripping a bandaid off is more painful than the cut itself.

So remember that you need a daily dose of truth. You need to be self aware. Are you frantically trying to patch up a dam that's ready to burst or put a bandaid on a chainsaw wound? Or are you putting a bandaid on a papercut that will be gone by tomorrow?