NaBloPoMo/30 Days of Truth – Day 3 – Something I Have to Forgive Myself For

Nov 042010

Day 03 – Something you have to forgive yourself for

In high school, I was lucky enough to have not just one, but two best friends: Samantha and Donald.


From left to right: Sam, me, and Donald

Sam was treated like my best friend, but for some reason… even though I was still able to talk to Donald about anything and everything and he was an incredible friend to me, I treated him like dirt.  The joke would be that I was destroying his self esteem because we were going to build it up even stronger… but we just never got around to building it back up.  Obviously, we had a twisted sense of humor since that is a pretty shitty joke.

I was mean for no good reason (is there ever a good reason?).  I made fun of someone that I considered a best friend on a consistent basis and made him doubt everything about himself.  Then I up-and-left for college and never looked back.

You’ve seen him here at my blog.  He posts under the name of “Spanks” and he is even the one who asked “Will You Marry Me?” in my formspring box.  I’m lucky he’s still here for me since he was kicked around in the dirt for so long.  I am sure he will say “no big deal” and “I’m fine”, but that doesn’t make the guilt go away.

That time was years ago, and since then our friendship has morphed into one of support.  I am happy that he is still in my life in the role of someone very important to me.  However, I still can’t help but feel remorse for the hard time I gave him so many years ago.  I try not to dwell on the past much, but some days it hits me, and I can’t help but feel regret.

So, Donald, I’m sorry.  You are a great person, and I hope you realize how much you mean to me.  Thank you for being the bigger person.

Why You Can Read My Blog, but Still Not Know Anything About My Life

Sep 062010

Occassionally people will ask me why I don’t write about specific situations in my life.  Why am I not blogging more about the newly awkward relationship I have with Dan?  Why am I not discussing my thoughts on my sister is getting married?  Why have I not focused more on some of the friendships I have made here in the Twin Cities since moving?

Why, oh why, is this blog about ME?  I am sure you get bored of my narcissism.  It’s always “me” this and “me” that and “I did this” and “I hate that” and whine whine bitch whine whine.  And of course my response to that is always “because it’s my blog, so if you are tired of me then stop reading it”.  DUH.

But I do understand the point.  All of those things have a direct effect on me.  I have thoughts about them, and I am being directly impacted every single day.  They are the things that are swirling around me and making me feel uncomfortable, scared, happy, comforted, confused, and alone all at one time.  They are the things making me who I will be 5, 10, or 50 years from now.  They are the people that are comforting me and listening to me.  And yet I don’t discuss them.  And I am sure a few of your regular readers have noticed I will breach a topic only to never bring it up again.  Ever.

So why the silence on these things?  Because I would rather keep these things to myself than to receive angry phone calls, emails, and texts.  In case you didn’t notice the trend, all of the aforementioned topics involve someone else.  I had a blog when I was about 12 years old and a few of my friends in school read it (without me knowing).  Next thing I know, they are all mad at me for talking about them.  And, since this blog is proudly displayed on my facebook page, I choose not to allow that to happen again.  It sucked learning the hard way, but at least I learned.

It is hard sometimes, though.  There are a lot of things I want to talk about, but unfortunately I can’t do it here.  Some things are too hurtful to others… and other things are too fragile to bring up right now.  It is a strange situation to be in, but I think that keeping a few things to myself is the best (and safest) way to go.

Like I said… it sucks learning the hard way, but it usually ends up being a lesson you never forget.

> Insert Really Depressing Title Here <

Aug 132010

Now that my blog has become the most depressing space on the interweb, I find it appropriate to keep going with these little updates about how things are going for me emotionally.  Afterall – it’s not like this can get any more depressing than it already is.

As I’ve said many times before, writing is how I deal with doubts, insecurities, and thoughts I can’t seem to let go of.  Admittedly, I suppose I am being a bit of a drama queen about this whole thing.  It’s not like we had a house, four kids, two dogs, and a life together.  We had an apartment, one dog, and a big screen tv.**  But this whole thing still sucks (for the lack of a better word).  This morning I found myself forgetting why we broke up in the first place.  Then I spent the rest of the day moping around, second guessing, and suffering from thoughts in my head that couldn’t sit still and give me a moment of silence.

And then, when I was venting to my friend Joe, he found it appropriate to say, “I totally thought you guys were going to get married”.  WHOA… GEE… THANKS…  I always appreciate it when someone cuts me right across the chest with a jagged and rusty blade, runs out to buy the biggest package of salt available at Sams Club, empties all of the salt into my fresh wound, and then rubs it in there so that not a bit of it is wasted — it is forced into the cut in a way that allows  every individual granule to cause me an awful, resonating pain.  Next time maybe he can grab some lemon juice to spray directly into my eyes, too.  REAL COOL, BRO.

I also forgot to mention that I was given a $4000 Vera Wang wedding dress the day after breaking up.  No joke.  It was 100% free and is hanging in my closet right now.  Of course the women who gave it to me had no idea that less than 24 hours ago I had broken up with a guy I once talked about marriage with… or that it doesn’t fit and I will need to lose about 5 lbs before I can zip it (not only could I feel lonely… I got to feel fat too!)… and they couldn’t possibly know that I would try it on as soon as I got home and tear up over how pretty it was and my lack of places to wear it.  They were actually really sweet when I told them what happened, and they are totally cool with me selling it.  But I just thought the timing was incredible.  Seriously.  Who does that happen to?

I am handling this well.  I really am.

I started doing Yoga, and while it has been strenuous for me physically, I have found it soothing emotionally.  My friends like to joke about the silly things they say (ex. “breathe out the impurities”), but I typically find myself trying to follow the instruction that they give.  I do my best to inhale the best I have to offer and to exhale the things that keep me from being happy.  In the last week and a half, I have been able to focus entire on me.  It is no longer “What’s best for us?”  Now it is “What do I want to do?”

When I was at dinner with a friend on Wednesday, we started to talk about the movie Eat, Pray, Love.  I mentioned how I kind of wanted to go on a solo vacation, and she excitedly proclaimed, “I did that once and it was fantastic!”  Apparently she went to Hawaii with a stack of books and spent an entire week there.  She went to the beach every day and didn’t have to ask anybody else for their opinion.  It was weird, she said, but a great experience.  “No matter where you end up going, you will learn a lot about yourself.”  Suddenly Take a vacation by myself is on my bucket list.

Hmm…

Well anyway, after rereading the beginning of what I have written here, I think I should mention that I am really not an emotional wreck.  The fourth paragraph (about the wedding dress) was written because… lets be honest… who does that happen to?  It is kind of sad, but at the same time very funny to me.  The 3rd paragraph was written because my friends have the best intentions, but they say silly things sometimes.  Also… I am pretty sure Joe reads this so he might appreciate a shout-out about how insensitive he sometimes is (and one of my favorite things to do is give him a hard time).  The 2nd paragraph is honest to what I’m feeling.  I’m not depressed and I’d like to think that those thoughts come with any breakup.

So, in case anyone was worried, my sense of humor is still intact and I am still the happy-go-lucky person I have always been :-)

Besides all of that, I have a wedding to attend tomorrow.  I thought about wearing my new wedding dress to it, but I heard that wearing white to a wedding is rude.  Maybe a birthday party is coming up.

**In case anyone was wondering, Dan and I are going to move out of our shared apartment and into separate places beginning on Sunday.  I get the television and the dog.  He gets the desk that I spilled ink all over.  I definitely won in the “who gets what” game.

Ouch

Aug 052010

On Tuesday night, Dan and I broke up.

There was no cheating.  No unhappy feelings.  No not-getting-along. From the outside looking in, we had a great relationship.  Hell, even from the inside we had a great relationship.  But something was missing, and I never could quite put my finger on it.

I brought up my thoughts on our relationship, and he agreed.  Something really was missing.  He was able to put it in words better than I could.

“When we both lived in Michigan, we were both unhappy because we were just starting out and not quite doing what we want to do.  Moving to Minnesota has helped me find my happiness here through my research and the things that I do, but you haven’t found yours yet.  I needed support to reach the place I am at now, and you were there for me every step of the way.  Unfortunately for us, what you need is space — and I am willing to give that to you.”

I am not one to say that our 2 year and 4 month relationship was a waste.  I take everything as a learning opportunity because, no matter what I am doing, I am learning about myself in one way or another.  And I learned a lot with Dan.  He pushed me to be a better person and supported me no matter what I was doing. 

But there are only so many things you can learn in a relationship.  At some point, you need to take a step out of your comfort zone and learn to live on your own.  Since starting college, I was a “serial monogomist” and went from one serious relationship to the next in a matter of weeks.  And lately, with all of this talk of marriage and forever, I don’t think I’ll really be ready until I get the chance to try this out.

I’m not going to go into every facet of the breakup here, but to put it plainly… I am very sad. 

I am sure that I will be for a very long time.

For the last week, I have been listening to two songs over and over again.  I respond to music.  If any of you are having trouble with something in your life, maybe these songs can give you some much needed strength as well.

So You Want To Be A Writer

Apr 242010

I’ve struggled with writing lately.  It seems to come in spurts. Some weeks I need to write something… anything… and some weeks I can’t seem to form a sentence.

These last few weeks, I’ve been experiencing the latter. Typically my blog posts come very naturally and quickly, but lately it has been a struggle. Anthony Licari, one of my favorite bloggers, posted the poem “So You Want to be a Writer” by Charles Bukowski. I find it very fitting.

So You Want To Be A Writer

If it doesn’t come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don’t do it.

Unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don’t do it.

If you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don’t do it.

If you’re doing it for money or
fame,
don’t do it.

If you’re doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don’t do it.

If you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don’t do it.

If it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,
don’t do it.

If you’re trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.

If you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.


If it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

If you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you’re not ready.

Don’t be like so many writers,
don’t be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don’t be dull and boring and
pretentious, don’t be consumed with self-
love.
The libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
Don’t add to that.
Don’t do it.

Unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don’t do it.
Unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don’t do it.

When it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

There is no other way.

And there never was.

Naggers

Apr 142010

My mom has been in town the last few days.  She got here on Thursday afternoon and is leaving tomorrow (Wednesday) first thing in the morning.  And while I loved her visit and as great as it was that she was here visiting… all I can say about her pending departure is this: Thank God.

Since leaving for college 5 years ago, it has been harder to live at home. I think it’s because I learned independence and I learned that I can live by my own rules. Especially now that I have a place of my own, I don’t have to answer to anyone but Dan (sometimes) and the police. And my boss. And my professors. And the landlord. And my neighbors if I’m being too loud. And Prandtl if I forget to feed her. And the electricity company so I can have electric. And the crazy guy in Flint that came to verbally assault/threaten me once because he thought my roommates and I broke into his car. And Sallie Mae because they seriously own me.

But you know…. besides those people.

She is nagging me to drive slower, stay in at night, and what kinds of cleaners to use on my ceramic tile. She is telling me what to buy on my grocery trips. And while I would love to fill my refrigerator with coconut yogurt and vegetables, I don’t really like the idea of coconut flavored yogurt… and I don’t really like vegetables. 6 days of nagging cannot undo the past 22 years of my life.

Don’t get me wrong – I love my Mom. I also appreciate that she did all of my laundry and cleaned the place while I was at work. But sometimes… sometimes you just need your breathing room. A little space to breathe. A nice place to curl up in your own apartment to sit in silence. Away from people telling you what to do and how you do it… especially when you’ve been doing it your own way for years now.

Also… has anyone seen the South Park episode with “Naggers”??? HILARIOUS! Youtube it if you don’t believe me :)

Near Death Experience

Mar 242010

I got up this morning in a really, really good mood.

Last night, I got home at about 8:45pm from calligraphy class (which, by the way, has ended), I ate dinner, and went straight to bed. I rolled out of bed this morning at about 6:30am, meaning I got 8+ hours of sleep. Plus, my mom is visiting tomorrow! PLUS I was going to get to work before 8am!

So after I took the dog out, I got ready in about 20 minutes. I was happy to see I still had Snapple in the fridge, so I grabbed two of those for the afternoon. And then I thought, Oh no! I don’t have lunch for work! But then I remembered I hadn’t eaten the lunch I brought to work on Monday yet! I was all set to go.

I said ”bye!” to Prandtl and Lucy, and then I skipped down the hallway into the elevator, went down to the basement of the building to meet my underground parked car, and I hopped in. I pulled out of the garage just right so I didn’t have to worry about hitting any walls and scraping my car up on the garage door (which I have done in the past), and I headed to work. Typically my arch nemesis, the stop lights were ALL green! I hardly had to stop as I navigated through downtown Saint Paul. And it’s the little things, everybody. The little things make a day great.

As I drove, I started to think about whether or not I wanted to take a quick pitstop at Caribou Coffee to make my morning complete. I looked up to check a stop light, saw it was green, and continued to drive thinking about a delicious, milk chocolatey drink in my hands and in my belly. But I guess I looked at the color of the light a little too early. And I guess I got too caught up in my coffee dreams. Because, as I entered the busy intersection right next to the Xcel Energy Center, the light was actually red. Cars were beginning to drive across the intersection – and those cars were the ones that would intersect ME.

So I slammed on my brakes, my eyes opened wide, and put my hand up to my chest. I took a deep breath because now I was sitting in the middle of the intersection. All of the other cars had slammed on their brakes, too (which I certainly preferred to the alternative – hit me). They were honking at me, and instead of going all the way through, I slowly backed out of the interserction to where I should have stopped in the first place. And I’m not really sure why that was my immediate reaction – to stop and back up. Continuing forward and getting through would have been a lot faster and, considering the traffic layout at that moment, a lot safer. But then again, I guess not too much makes sense in those situations. Especially since I know my share of people who have been seriously injured or have died in car accidents.

So as I sat, watching the cars go by and waiting for the light to actually be green before proceeding for what would be the second time, I awkwardly avoided eye contact to the SUV next to me. There’s nothing worse than turning to see other people staring at you, judging you, calling you stupid without saying a word. Especially when you already know it yourself.

So, after that incident, I decided maybe it’s time I throw together a list of things I want to do before I die. Because life could end at any time, and I need to know that I will have accomplished (or at least worked towards) the things that *I* want to do, regardless of what anyone else may think – bosses, significant others, and family included. And I don’t want to do these things to satisfy career requirements or to make money or to make anybody else happy. These are 100% things that I want to do… just because I want to do them. No more explanation can be given.

  1. Learn to ride a motorcycle. And own one.
  2. Take a trip by myself
  3. Learn at least 1 more musical instrument (I have learned enough of the clarinet, flute, and tenor saxaphone to satisfy me)
  4. Become Fluent in another language
  5. Run a 5k in 25 minutes
  6. Write a book
  7. Become AMAZING at calligraphy
  8. TBD
  9. TBD
  10. TBD

Is it bad I could only get to 7?  I guess that just means I am only filling this list with things I really want to do, not just kind of want to do.

And the lesson out of all of this? I need to stop getting so excited over Caribou Coffee.

This Saint Patrick's Day Will Not Be Wasted (But I Might)

Mar 172010

Like any good twenty-two year old, I’m going to be running around the various pubs in downtown Minneapolis this evening. 

Typically, I am not a real bar person — especially on holidays like today.  I find them to be overcrowded, reeking of beer, and way too loud.  In fact, I am not a huge fan of going out in general.  I am more of a homebody, content with an evening with my couch.  Or if I do step out, I enjoy long walks on the beach, hand in hand with a nice candlelit dinner at the end. 

Actually, that beach and candlelit dinner thing has never happened.  But I really wish it would.   (*COUGH*… Dan reads this and hopefully he’ll take the hint… *COUGH*)

I’ve been called “lame” a countless number of times because of my unwillingness to go out drinking too many nights in a row.  Don’t get me wrong — I spent a few years loving drinking more than your average adult (but on par with your average college student).  I had my phase of night after night drunken debauchery.  I’ve spent my evenings — and sometimes mornings — with the toilet, clinging to it for dear life because the world was spinning so violently around me.  I have made my fair share of poor, alcohol induced, decisions.  And although I know that a night out drinking post-college doesn’t mean I need to get totally wasted and crawl my way home, I still relate nights out drinking with those awful stomach aches I get from those really tasty fruity drinks.  And I still don’t really like the taste of beer.  And while sitting at a table with my friends and having a good time is great fun once in awhile, I’m still more of an introvert and I need time to myself.  Or else I get crabby.  And not many people like me when I’m crabby.

And I know that my mom is going to read the above paragraph and be disgusted that her daughter was an alcoholic for two years of her life.  SORRY MOM!!

But since moving to Minnesota, those fun nights out have been few and far between.  My couch is starting to cave in my specific seating spot.  It’s like it’s telling me I spend too much time there.  Or maybe that I’m getting fat.  Either way, it means I need to get my ass elsewhere.

And so, people of the internet, if you are in downtown Minneapolis wandering around yelling random names at random people, give “Heather” a shout.  Maybe I’ll hear you.  I’ll run up to you, give you a big hug, and then we can drink way too many beers, shout at one another until our voices leave us, make new friends we won’t remember once we’re sober, and yak in the street when all is said and done.  Because I haven’t done this in a long time, and dammit, I’m going to do it right.

Did You Not Read The Memo?!

Mar 012010

I got this memo today while at work.  Apparently it’s kind of a big deal.  It was on company letterhead and everything. (Click to see)

So make sure that all of your friends named “Don” or “Donald” know that they are among the coolest people on earth. Give them a high five, a fist bump, a butt slap, or whatever you crazy kids do these days.

They’ve earned it.

Oh, To be Young and Stupid

Feb 162010

Sallie Mae posted my monthly payments schedule.  And while I would love to whine and complain about what a soul sucking, money hungry leech she is, I can admit that I did this to myself. 

At the height of this repayment plan, I’ll be shelling out $630 a month for oh.. about.. EIGHT POINT FIVE YEARS. The other 11.5 will be lower monthly payments, but still enough to make me depressed.

Here’s to making stupid financial decisions.

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