Singing a Duet to Defying Gravity is Not My Idea of Romance

Dear Boy Who Broke Things Off Before I Got the Chance To Break Them Off Myself (because I was being nice and giving you the benefit of the doubt!),

I have a few dating tips I would like to share with you:

1. The uni-brow and all of its' relatives are out. As in no longer welcome in society. And actually have not been welcome since 1834 when they developed a gadget to get rid of those suckers. And contrary to popular your belief, the less dense hair on the upper nasal line (you know the section where there should just be skin and no connection of eyebrow whatsoever) still qualifies as a uni-brow. 

2. Please brush your teeth more than once a day. And if that is a challenge for you, they recently came out with a new item called gum. Haven't heard of it? What about breath mints? Listerine strips? Mint leaves? Oh right...I forgot you are from the early 19th century. It amazes me you have gone 25 years of life without realizing you have bad breath. Isn't that what moms are for?

3. Having a conversation about boundaries after you have already chosen to cross some does not equal a serious conversation. Lucky for you we never really got to any serious conversations because I do not believe you could handle them. 

4. Believe me (and if you do not, you can ask anyone who knows me), I love everything Disney and musicals. Very much. However, I also love my friends and family and do not want to lose them because I blew out their eardrums in the car from unattractively singing EVERY CHARACTER'S PART IN EVERY SINGLE SONG. It's great that you believe you can accurately sing Gaston and Belle's part. Yet, I am here to tell you that you cannot. If I want to hear them sung well at such a high decibel, I will watch the movie. 

5. On a similar line, being able to quote every single line from every movie you've seen in the exact voice does not make you a movie buff. It just makes you obnoxious and someone I never want to watch movies with. 

5. Having only movie soundtracks, Disney songs, and musical soundtracks on your iPod does not make you special. It makes you close minded and very frustrating to ride in the car with. 

6. If you actually want to meet your future wife and have the white, traditional wedding (THAT YOU TOLD ME ABOUT ON THE 4TH DATE), then you may want to actually take interest in what she does. When she tells you about her day do not turn up Wicked in the car, do not ignore her when she talks about what's important to her, and do not change the subject when she brings up her values. 

7. When someone tells you they do not like something, it's usually wise not to suggest that as a date. I HATE MINI GOLF.

8. All those times where you did not understand what I was saying...that is actually called a sense of humor. I have one! Isn't that weird?

9. Lady Gaga and Katy Perry ARE NOT THE SAME PERSON.

10. Lastly, it is good to know that chivalry is not dead. However, neither am I. I am very capable of making my own decisions and actually like doing so from time to time. But, considering you ignored me when I talked about how cool it was to see a strong female character in a movie, and you changed the subject when I started telling you how Lady Gaga is my role model, and both your eyebrows and breath follow the trend, it kind of makes sense that your view toward women would also be medieval. 

I hope these dating tips help you with your game. Just a few minor tweaks and you'll be ready to get back out there!

Love, 

The Girl Who Happily Made It Out With Minimal Ear Damage

PS. Ben Folds, the Fray, and Hootie and the Blowfish are MUSICAL ARTISTS. But don't worry, I wouldn't expect you to know that (see # 5).

This is not romance.

Breathing Without Coffee

I would like, for once, for my college experience to be a "typical" college experience that we all dream about when we are younger and hope to find once the college years come. But alas, I find myself disappointed in this sense today due to the lack of coffee in the near walking vicinity.

For those of you who have spoken with me the past couple of months, you will know that in that time period I have become addicted to coffee. It was really only a matter of time before it happened. Both of my parents, at one point of another were addicted to coffee, therefore predisposing me for addiction. Of any kind really. I'd say I'm lucky that it came in the form of coffee. Of all the possibilities that I considered to put my addiction genes to good use (cocaine, stripping, gambling, Angry Birds, feet), coffee seems to have more benefits than costs (at least at the moment).

But back to my dilemma. I work in a lab on campus as a research assistant. The reserach project has to do with the well-being of egg-laying hens. Yep, chickens. For the most part I record behavior, both in a live setting and also through observing pictures in the lab.

Side note: In case you are wondering...I have no desire to pursue a career with chickens. This opportunity just happened to present itself to me last summer. It pays decently and gives me research, animal handling, and well-being experience. Plus it is in the lab of my favorite Animal Science professor: Dr. Joe Garner. He is a sexy, 30-something, brilliant, British man who taught my Animal Behavior class. And who would be teaching me Animal Welfare this fall, but is sadly (sad for me, great for him) taking a position at Stanford University. He leaves this week. Nonetheless, he is the reason I decided to concentrate my degree in Behavior/Well-being and he has been extremely helpful in assisting me with my career dilemmas.

Anyway, my point is that I am currently in the lab working and desperately in need of some liquid addiction. And I wish I worked in a building on campus that was not in BFE so that I could simply walk a block to coffee.

There's my rant. Listen to this song. Between Two Lungs- Florence + the Machine

Hills and Rain, Ooh La La

I just got back from a night run to the park. I love the feeling I get sometimes where I just want to run. I could run forever. Kind of like Forrest-"I just felt like runnin'" (good job if you said that in the correct voice). Luckily, for my body, the park is only a few blocks away. It was not raining when I began, but it started to down pour on my way there. It was such a cathartic feeling-running through the rain, just me and my iPod and the darkness. (Side note: West Lafayette has a serious lack of street lights, about one every 5 blocks, give or take. But I used to live over there and I've been that way so many times that my fears are for the most part squelched).

I was soaked by the time I got to the park. I have and probably always will love parks. Perhaps it is due to the high standards of parks I was privileged to whilst growing up (Leaper Park, Turtle Park, Valplayso, Soapy Soap) or the fact that I've sustained more than one head injury at parks over my lifetime. Either way, I hope there will always be a park near wherever I am that will make me feel like I am seven again.

The park is right next to a soccer field, the outdoor community pool, and a huge hill. I ran all over the place like I was being chased in tag or racing the boys in my class to prove I was faster (and I always was). I ran up the hill. I absolutely love it on top of that dang hill. Being up there tonight was probably the first time this summer I have felt peace. You can see all the surrounding neighborhoods and beyond the trees you can somewhat see parts of Lafayette. I spread my arms out and felt like Leo in Titanic (and I may or may not have shouted "I'm king of the world!").

It had stopped raining, but the wind was blowing the trees behind me to the point that it sounded like rain. I could have stayed there all night just looking at everything and letting that feeling of peace surround me. I felt content. Although there was a small part of me that wished I could share that moment with someone. And a small part of that was nostalgic and sad because I have shared that park with people. One whom I know would have happily joined my jovial rompings tonight had she not run away to Germany this summer :)

The other person and I, however, probably will not be sharing any more moments together. I miss him so much sometimes. Especially in West Lafayette because there is something around every corner that reminds me of him. It's really hard to let yourself just feel your feelings. Do not push them away, do not ignore them, do not mask them with any activity-just allow them to wash over you. To me, that sounds awful and an activity I attempt to avoid because my emotions can be intense and overbearing at times. Yet tonight I did not push them away but rather let them come. And while it did not feel good, it did not hurt as badly as I imagined either. Again, I felt peace.

I ran down the hill, through puddles of water, to the swings (I would have rolled down had it not been so wet and my partner in crime was not in Germany). I got my butt soaking wet on the swing. The swing has always been my favorite park activity. If I were to guess, I would say it's because of the feeling of coming down after you've reached peak height-your stomach drops and for a split second you are weightless.

I took the long way home and want to give a sincere thank you to Puma for designing running shoes that, even when soaking wet, provide enough traction on the road to keep me from biting ass down the massive hill by my apartment.

Also, one of my new favorite songs to run to: Paris (Ooh La La) by Grace Potter and the Nocturnals. Total girl power song.

Miss Independent

I have had so many deep relationships that I have no idea how to conduct myself in a new relationship. Sure I can make small talk (although I hate it) and I can tell about myself, my likes and dislikes. But the point of getting to know a new person, in my opinion, is to get down to deeper levels. If you can do it, then you've found yourself a new friend. If you can't, then that relationship just is not going anywhere and you ditch it like the friend nobody likes. Except in my case my deeper levels are all over the freaking place. Scattered among the innocent levels that did not ask for the deeper levels to be there. They just butt their way in to wherever they feel like going. Which I guess is not a terrible thing in itself, but can be once someone else starts peeling the layers away.

Like on a third date when the conversation gets too "serious" and we just "should be having fun and getting to know each other". Well, unfortunately the layer you just pulled back unleashed some deeper topics and emotions. Maybe this is a sign I shouldn't be dating.

Five For Fighting - The Riddle

So, no matter what mood I am in, this song never fails to improve it. Right now I am feeling content and this song is making me smile.

My apologies, Lady Gaga.

I had initially wanted to write about my role model today. At least, that's what I had started writing earlier. Instead, I find myself desperately trying to control my anger, which is the only thing currently on my mind.

When weighing the pros and cons of a decision, one should always take into account if that decision could come back and kick you in the ass. Typically, I am fairly decent at this process. Unfortunately, high levels of intoxication severely interrupt said process. As is proven by my past weekend. Now, for some reading this , I expect the worry and judgement to enter now.  However, let me stop you right at this point to assure you that neither worry nor judgement need to ensue. My decisions were not terrible, and to put frankly, they are nothing many of you have not done yourselves. What happened does not matter. It is over and there is nothing I (nor you) can do to change things that happened.

But what of the aftermath and the conflict these decisions bring. Accepting responsibility for my actions, while never a proud moment, is something I have always been able to do. And I value my words when it comes to conflict. I try my hardest to express my opinions, frustrations, emotions, and thoughts without placing blame on the other person. I do not avoid conflict. I attempt to use objective reasoning when discussing a conflict. However, it is when all of these tactics fail, that my emotions become difficult to handle. When the other person lacks these conflict managing skills, and instead relies entirely on emotion, objective reasoning becomes impossible. How does one reason with the unreasonable?

One cannot. And where does that leave me? With emotions so intense that doing nothing seems impossible. I am seething with anger and I am trying my hardest to control it.  There are not enough bad words in the English language to express the anger I am feeling. My voice is not loud enough to scream out all of my emotions. My heart wants to explode so it does not have to feel this anymore. I want to close my eyes so tight that nothing can get through them to my brain. I want to curl up in a ball and keep out all of the terrible things that come flying at me. I want to scream and cry and hit things. I want to run until I collapse. I want to fly far away from this damn place and forget about everything.

(Insert here a 2 hour intermission from writing. What is written above is before my walk, what is written below is after).

So I sit until I cannot sit anymore. And then I go for a walk. To my favorite park in West Lafayette. Along the way I am near tears, close to hyperventilation, and seriously contemplating heaving my phone at the nearest tree. I scroll up and down my contacts wondering who I can call. It is times like these when I feel that no one can possibly understand. How can anyone understand the exact emotions I am feeling that have stemmed from a long history of the situations I have been through. I feel so alone.

I always reach out to the most unusual sources. And they always surprise me by pulling me out of my emotional well. One of the hardest lessons I have been learning and am still a novice, is healthily handling my emotions. I have been consciously working on this for almost a year and sometimes I feel like I have not moved an inch. Yet, tonight, while the emotions are still very much present, I have fought the urge to escape them. I let them happen and I felt them intensely. I did not eat them, nor did I try to make them disappear forever.

"Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light"
 -Albus Dumbledore

Right now I am looking at the journey to find my voice and realize tonight I have failed in many ways. Yet, if I break it apart into smaller pieces, I realize I can celebrate some small successes.

Perhaps I shall share my role model tomorrow.

Finding My Voice

My inspiration to begin a blog came from two sources on two separate occasions. The first came from Danielle Johnson, almost a year ago. After countless nights out together and detailed re-tellings of bizarre, shocking, and emotional stories, it was she who first suggested I should document my life happenings. Yet time and lack of purpose were always stopping me from beginning. I could not write about my crazy life because I was out living said crazy life. And while I had an abundance of words and stories to recount, nothing was stopping my potential blog from reading like an adult fiction novel where the lead female tells of her path to discover love and the witty, ironic, and heartbreaking happenings along the way. While I occasionally do indulge in such a novel, I knew my blog needed a more meaningful purpose. A couple half-hearted attempts later to discover such purpose, I let the thought fall.

It was not until the second source came, quite recently, that I revisited the thought. I began following Hannah Fingerhut's blog of her upcoming travel and experiences. Her journey, both literal and figurative, brought the thought that if only I had a journey, I could begin my blog.

Yet, I am on a journey, and have been for awhile: the journey to find my voice. My voice is something I have lost over the years. Each emotionally detrimental situation has reduced my voice, until at one point I was unable to muster even a whisper. I have let my actions and decisions (both good and bad) act as my voice, allowing them to sum up everything I am not able to speak. I have avoided the painful emotions my experiences have left.

A few weeks ago I read an excerpt from a woman, Jennifer Campbell, who is recovering from an eating disorder. She spoke of the importance of finding her voice in her road to recovery:

"At first I had no words. I was mute, terrified of the sound of my voice and the words that would be released from it. It started off as a whisper, my voice quivering as tears fell. But over time that whisper got louder and the tears eventually stopped. You see, by actually feeling my emotions and getting them out through words and tears,..., I finally released them completely....It is a slow and, at times, scary process. To go inside and face those emotions can seem overwhelming, but the end result is worth it. A heavy weight has been lifted, as years of starved words, swallowed tears and purged anger have been released. By finding my voice I have found myself...I have found my words and I am no longer afraid to be heard."

Reading this struck a chord within me and I was inspired. Inspired by this woman who traveled this long, self-revealing, and exhausting journey alone. Yet, survived. While my journey has begun, and sometimes I find myself capable of a whisper, I still have a long road to travel. Reading this passage has given me hope that I am capable of also finding my voice.

I cannot promise you what this journey will resemble. While this blog may take on many moods (humorous, sad, random, cynical, angry, happy, bored) and the nature of the posts may change, it is my hope to maintain a steady theme throughout: one of hopefulness. This blog is about my journey, and even I do not know what that looks like. So this blog will be a reflection of what that journey becomes: good or bad.