Thursday, December 02, 2004

Slippery Slope

It seems the best and worst of life come in December. The pretty snow fall, being warm and cozy, Christmas lights and spirituality. But also the harsh cold, slipping on the ice, battling the crowds that really have nothing to do with the Christmas spirit and getting sick.

I was so excited for it to snow- the view of my apartment's courtyard (I guess that's what you call it) is awesome. I love to be in a warm house watching it snow.

But I don't like driving in it. And I don't like walking in it. I'm afraid of falling. That's my real fear behind my fear of heights- falling to my death. But even slipping on the ice is an excrutiating experience! It hurts to lose so much control so fast, even if only for a moment.

It's like me. I want to go ice-skating, but I'm too afraid I'll fall.
Lately I feel at my best. I'm stepping in to this new life that I have been working so hard to find for the last two years. I'm learning to love myself and what I'm doing. To accept that I love it and quit looking for change. But just when I get that high, I feel a fear of falling. Not failure, it's just that things are slippery. I'm afraid of losing so much control so fast. If I let my guard down and enjoy the moment, I may fall to my death. Have you ever wanted to make a "mistake"- just to see what it feels like?

Thursday, November 11, 2004

Justify a Scream

Some phiolosophies claim that we bring into our lives what we most need to learn. I guess it's not that different than believing in fate or that God has a purpose for us- even to the point that our challenges are tailor made. I don't know if I believe any of that? But I have been thinking of events in my life over the last couple years that have all made me feel about the same. Why would I bring these controversies into my life? What am I trying to learn?

Perhaps I'm hoping for something that will push me over the edge and justify a scream. Something to finally make me stand up and say "Hey! I exist! You can't treat me like this!"

I remember when I was younger actually having the fantasy that I was a mute child genius artist. I thought that then people would have to listen to me- because they couldn't hear my voice, they'd have to look into my art to really understand me.

Why am I so afraid of hearing my own voice? What do I think will happen if I begin to speak? Sometimes I get so flustered and start stuttering or honestly just don't know what I think or feel. But sometimes I think the truth is, I do know. It's in there somewhere, but if even I am not listening, why bother? I think sometimes that I am my most prized possession and that's why I hide me from the rest of the world. I don't trust it to value something as precious as I am. Other times, I just feel rather worthless, or at least like everyone knows better.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! I'm here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Friday, October 15, 2004

This thing called love

I recently watched a televsion show about a girl who got dumped. She is about 25 and works in New York (of course) and decided to make this into a learning experience. She asked her best friend if she is just bad at relationships. She then decided to ask the guy what she did wrong so that she could do better the next time. Well, of course this did not go over well.

Kiki, my 16 year old sister, and I recently discussed an online quiz she took about being good at dating. A friend of mine recently got married. She is one of my most favorite people in the world and I kind of watched the whole relationship grow, from her side of things anyway. There is no doubt in my mind that she fell in love with her guy, almost right away. I know he too fell for her. But sometimes I couldn't help but think that my friend is just really good at dating.

I however, probably suck at it. I just want to meet a guy, develop a friendship that also has that twiterpated, butterfly thing going on, and fall deeply in love. Once in a philosophy class, my instructor asked if we fall in love or if we jump. When he "picked on" me to answer, I said I think we walk really close to the edge and hope for something to push us in. This, he thought, was brilliant.

I don't really know what attracts me to the people I find myself attracted to. I have fallen somewhat recently for guys that when things didn't work out, I later thanked my gaurdian angels for wathcing over me (okay, really I thanked God for answering my prayers with a NO). How could I be so stupid to fall for such losers??? And then, there have also been a few that apparently have fallen for me (who wouldn't given the chance!?) that I just could not return the sentiment to. My most recent "crush" is an adorable guy that we'll just say is out of reach for now.

Being single and also having worked recently with the youth of my church, it seems that my particular religion loves to give lessons on morality and marriage and dating. Even here there seem to be so many rules. Like I think I've been taught to create a checklist and when you find someone who meets most the requirements, that is love.

So, I ask, what is this thing called love? Is dating really such a game- am I supposed to know how to "snatch" a guy and make (or trick) him into loving me? Is there really such thing as falling in love?

P.S. To my fellow bloggers, I know some of you are or have been in love, so please share your thoughts. Also, I tend to get lost easily while trying to read and respond to yours and I'm always in a hurry, so don't take it personally when I'm so slow at playing blogs!

Tuesday, September 21, 2004

Perfection

One of the worst questions someone can ask, especially on a date, is "what do you like to do in your free time?" Which is really quite silly because there is so much I like to do I barely have time for anyone but myself. So why does my mind go completely blank when someone pops the question?

I think it's because I seek perfection. I cannot admit to liking to do something if I am not perfect at it. And what am I perfect at? Not much. Teaching algebra? Probably not even that. And who would want to hear about it even if I was?

Thursday, September 16, 2004

Quandaries

Yesterday I sat somewhere on campus between the public transit station and the math building. One of my favorite parts of campus! The air was cool and smelled like fall and I took a minute to watch the leaves grow. I remembered just how much I wanted to be back at the University. However, when it came time to head for class, I just didn't want to go. I wanted to hide, run, cower. Sometimes I really want to be smart. But, I thought, sometimes I just want to know stuff. And math isn't something you know. It's something you do. I don't know if I want to DO this anymore. I wish I could just absorb knowledge... all these fascinating elements of life, science and poetry. Maybe I'm not meant to be a great artist. Maybe I just want to go to the museums. Is there anything so wrong with that?