12 posts tagged “friends”
What do you bring most to a friendship?
Loyalty. It's the trait most native to my personality, and often my biggest downfall. It endears me to people, but also gets me hurt quite a bit. I wish I could turn it off, or tone it down, or protect myself from it. But if I did, then I wouldn't be me.
Church was very enlightening this morning and I feel incredibly blessed to belong to such a wonderful community. Our pastor challenged us to bless three people a week, whether by small random acts of kindness, or by premeditated gestures. Particularly of note to me was the encouragement to bless those who curse you, for they are likely the ones who need it the most. I don't mean to be self-righteous or patronizing, and I don't claim to be blameless. But I would like to "bless" three people who I feel really need and deserve it.
Miranda: Though we are no longer friends, and though our paths are going very different ways, I still admire many things about you as a person. You have an immense capacity for forgivenes. An optimistic spirit. A great creative talent and eye for design. You are a devoted mother and even if you make mistakes, I think you make them with the best of intentions. I know you didn't choose the path that you are on, anymore than any of us would. I pray that you find peace and happiness and the love you deserve.
Christianne: I've never known you well, though you did reach out to me in your time of need several years ago. From what I know of you, you are an active mother and a loyal friend. You are very compassionate and concerned with the well being of others, and quick to defend those you feel have been wronged. I admire your ability to forgive and work towards rebuilding your family. It takes a lot of courage and faith and I pray that your endeavors are successful.
Kendra: You are a very resourceful person and are almost generous to a fault. Even when your family was enduring it's own struggles, you were always thinking of how you could help other people. You are steadfast in your beliefs and able to defend them without wavering. I know you feel misunderstood and maligned much of the time, but I hope you know that many people care about you and your family. I pray that you and your family are happy and healthy and that you pass on your strength of conviction to your boys. They've got quite the spiritual role model in you.
Again, I'm not claiming to be better than anyone. I just want to move on with my life and wish you all the best in yours.
Back when I started blogging, I made certain to know why I was doing it and who my audience was. Over the past months, I sometimes revisit my initial intentions to make sure they are still what motivates me. Initially my readership just included my friends and the people I met on Vox. Eventually, I told my mom about my blog, and then my sister. When I met R, I told him about the blog right off the bat. (I figure he might as well know how crazy I am up front. Brilliant strategy on my part.) He's told his family about it. My sister Linz has told her friends. Mom has told maybe everyone who she's ever met or ever will meet.
Sometimes when I stop to think about who is reading me, it freaks me out. It makes change how I write, or what I write about. I even went back through and cleaned up some of the language on some posts. I go back and read things through other people's eyes to see how I sound. But I always come back down again. I realize that if I'm ever writing for my audience, then I'm not going to be very good writer. I always come back to writing mostly for me; to stay in practice of writing; to make people laugh; to show off my precocious and adorable children; to meet new people; to grow; to learn; to keep my head from exploding.
So I don't quite understand people who blog, and then become angry when people read it. When they post publicly about private matters, then accuse people of prying. When they write posts as "bait", then act shocked when maybe the wrong fish bites the hook.
If you don't want people to read it, then don't write it. If you only want certain people to read things, then send an email. If you don't want everybody and their wife in your personal life, then don't put it out on the internet. Sure there are privacy settings, but I'm pretty sure Vox isn't Fort Knox. There's bound to be security holes and ways to get through them. If you have a deep dark secret that you don't want anyone to know about, then for fuck sake, quit talking about it. No one is stalking you. No one has a gun to your head making you blog.
If you're gonna blog then do it balls-out, no apologies, public for the world, and make it good. If all you're gonna do is whine and moan about who is reading you and why, then keep it to yourself. Otherwise, what is the point?
PS. Hypocrisy isn't reading a blog and talking about it with your friends. Hypocrisy is publicly condemning someone for one thing, then turning around and using that person for the one thing for which you condemned them.
PPS. Sorry if this doesn't make sense to most people in the world. It makes sense to a few, and for once, it is for that audience I am writing.
I'm super lucky to have some badass chicks for my knitting mentors. Not
that any of them are anywhere nearby to fix my dropped stitches, but they
are at least there to inspire and encourage.
Perhaps the "Knitter Supreme" who I look up to the most is Terri. She does
amazing and original stuff. Plus, it's been scientifically proven that she
is the coolest person on earth. This won't last for long, as her daughter
Stella will soon surpass her, but only because she's been trained so well by
mommy and daddy. I said it once and I'll say it again, that the universe is
a better place having Terri, Stella, and Todd in it. And with fabulous
knitting like this, how can I be wrong?
Check her out. I demand it of you. Please :)
I wonder what it's like for people to live life on an even keel. No dramatic ups to match the downs. Just level; everything the same. It's probably really boring and I'd whine about it if I had to live it. So I'll take my dramatic life and stick with it.
The ups:
Allie loves kindergarten. Her teacher is fantastic and she's really thriving. She's had a couple of tearful days, but they are largely in the minority. I was worried that my anxiety and sensitivity would manifest completely in her and make her school days miserable. But she's not quite as neurotic as I am. Yet.
Avery is an absolute angel. When she is on her own, with no other kids to run her over, boss her around, or interrupt her, she is like pure sunshine, with a dash of LOLCAT, a liberal coating of cotton candy, and sprinkled with fairy dust. Literally, she will happily color pictures or read books, only taking a break to give hugs and kisses or ask nicely for some food. I forget how different they are on their own and it's such a blessing to share these quiet times with her.
Mom is going back to work. She met another aneurysm survivor while in Colorado visiting my grandmother in the hospital. She was my grandma's nurse, and had a huge aneurysm rupture 12 years ago. She was pregnant at the time, and lost the baby, lost her speech, lost her life. She gradually relearned how to get her life back and went back to school for her BSN and is now one of the most respected nurses at this particular hospital. She and mom are now BFF and it's really given mom a lot of hope for her future. She starts back part-time at her old job on Monday and couldn't be more excited.
I've met someone who is completely unlike anyone I've ever met before. Open and honest, smart and funny, and he likes me back. That's the weirdest thing. I keep sticking my foot in my mouth and he keeps laughing and wanting to talk to me more. Lunch dates turn into 3 hour conversations in which we fidget manically creating napkin origami and juggling apples in a desperate attempt to appear nonchalant. But we're able to openly mock ourselves so this is good. It's refreshing - if a bit disconcerting - to like someone who likes me back. Yeah, I sound like I'm in the 8th grade. I'm okay with that. Oh and he reads this site too, so I'm going to blush furiously now. Hi there!
The downs:
I'm still pretty raw from having a falling out with a large number of my "friends" in an online community I've been with for 6 years. It's funny when I'm accused of hypocrisy. Funny because in reality, I'm the person who stands up and says what everyone is thinking. I'm the one who says publicly what everyone else whispers and gossips. I stick up for myself and that? That is bad. I've done a lot of reflection on my role in this recent debacle and I know I'm not blameless. When someone accused me of something, I should not have lashed out verbally. That was a little bit reactionary and classless. But dammit, it felt good at the time and I don't regret it. I also don't regret ending certain friendships with toxic people. If people are making bad choices that affect their lives, that's their prerogative. But when they start destroying other people's lives and affecting everyone around them, well I just can't condone that.
This is all old news. What I've really opened my eyes to, and what has caused me the most pain is this: why am I standing up for people who won't stand up for me? Sure, all those people come to me privately to encourage me and tell me how right I am and how I'm their hero. They'll come to me to gossip and badmouth and try to get dirt. So what's to say they're not doing the same thing behind my back? Hardly anyone even bothered to try and defend me, so why should I care about losing them? Why should I share myself with them if they think I'm a hypocrite, or a child abuser, or a liar who only wants attention? Why should I mourn the loss of people who clearly have no idea who I am?
People really show who they are by their actions more than their words. I value words very highly and rely on them a great deal to show who I am, but I also have the actions to back it up. Maybe it's just time for that chapter in my life to end. Online communities are *SO* 2001 anyway, right? I should chalk it up to lesson learned and go on my new path to my new life and new friendships. There isn't really any justice, and stamping my feet in protest is getting me nowhere. Maybe I should just "get over it" but it takes me a little longer to process things, to turn over every angle in my head, and make sure there's no speck of dust left unexamined.
My ob/gyn just referred me to a neurologist. I'm having issues similar to the ones I was having in February so I went back to the doctor. I'm googled and Mercked my symptoms to death and am pretty sure I know my diagnosis (because I'm a doctor you know) but instead of going the diagnostic route I want, we're going around the back way and examining my pituitary gland. Whatever I have is almost certainly benign and harmless, but I'd much rather have something foreign (if benign and harmless) in my breast than in my brain. I'll lop off ol' lefty without a second thought if doing so would insure my health. Not so easy to do that with my brain. Although... Whichever one it is, I won't know for a month or so. Glorious wait time. Love it.
Mom is going back to work. I know it's an up for her and I truly am happy about it. However, there goes my free childcare, so now I have to jump through hoops to get the ex to help out with school expenses. I hate jumping through hoops. It's exhausting. And while I'm kind of excited for Avery to get back into preschool, I really don't want to get Allie in an afterschool program. It's like $120 a week for just 2 hours a day after school. I'm going to see if I can move my hours around so that I go in earlier. I think before school care is cheaper than after, and her bus runs so late in the afternoon, that it wouldn't be hard for me to adjust my hours enough to pick her up at the bus stop everyday. So far they're being really flexible with all the doctor's appointments and stuff. I hope they continue to be flexible. And honestly, why does anyone ever hire single moms? We're not worth a damn sometimes, I swear....
My cousin was just admitted to the hospital. Technically, he is my cousin, but at age 10, he feels more like my nephew. My aunt adopted Jacob when he was 3 years old. He suffered from fetal alcohol syndrome and has had some sensory integration issues, as well as some emotional problems. He is one of the sweetest little boys I've ever known and Allie just idolized him when we visited in April. Apparently he had a pretty severe bipolar episode and threatened his dad with a pair of scissors, so he's been admitted to an inpatient facility. We don't know what the possible course of treatment will be yet, but I'm praying that it's something that gives us back our sweet little boy, without robbing him of too much of what makes him him. That's a page I did of him and Allie there on the left. They're BFF.
Anyway, that's sort of where I am. Aren't you glad you asked? Oh wait, you didn't... Regardless, it's enough to keep me about level. The ex has the girls this weekend for the first weekend EVER. I know I sound heartless, but having a whole weekend to myself without my adorable girls sounds like pure heaven. I'm going to clean my house, hang up pictures, take some photos, and go have sushi so I can fidget with my chopsticks. Really, I'll probably stock up on Twizzlers and diet Coke, stay in bed, and finish reading "His Dark Materials", but we can all pretend I'll be productive. At least the sushi part is true.
Oh! Almost forgot! I have a lovely sinus infection right now that is rendering all productive thought pretty much impossible. That I got all this out is miraculous. As soon as I post this, I'm going to go back to staring blankly at my laptop trying to work out what I need to do next....
All of my "friend" drama last week felt like the end of the world for a day or two. Luckily, because of said drama, I was able to meet someone whose story helped me to realign my perspective, and for that I thank her.
Trish lost a child to premature labor in 1999. She has since moved to another corner of the country and is unable to visit her son's resting place. Come to find out, I live only about 10 minutes away from it, so I volunteered to visit on her behalf and take some pictures for her. I know that if I were in the same situation, I would want someone to do the same for me, and it seemed a small gesture in the face of such a big loss.
Samuel only lived to take about 2 breaths, and he is buried in what is called the "Garden of Innocence" with all the other children and babies. It was humbling to be in presence of such loss. I was reluctant to take Allie and Avery with me. It seemed almost disrespectful to flaunt my healthy children, when there might be grieving parents visiting their lost children. But we were alone, and the girls were properly respectful and quiet, which I was glad of.
I knew I would cry and be moved, but I was unprepared for the bleak reality of it. Grave markers with only one date on them. Others bearing dates only a couple of years, months, or even days apart. Toys left by family members that had grown soggy and dirty, never to be played with; rusty matchbox cars, sun-faded Care Bears. A LeapFrog crib mobile still in it's packaging lay on top of the smallest mound of dirt possible. I found a wet ziploc bag that held a note from a mother to child. It had been blown astray by the wind and I wanted to put it back in it's rightful place, but couldn't find where that was. I wanted to take the whole afternoon and put right all of their markers. Blow the dust out of the crevices, trim the grass from the edges, dust off the grass clippings and brighten any of the dull flowers. But I only had time for Samuel and Trish on this day, so I did my work for them.
Decorating the shade trees nearby was a collection of dozens of windchimes. The wind was still that day so I didn't get to hear them, but I don't know that I'll ever be abel to hear one again without thinking of the music they play for the families visiting their children. I snapped pics of a few of them and for some reason was particularly proud and fond of this one:
I didn't know it at the time, but this is the windchime that Trish hung there. Out of all of them, I was drawn to the right one. If that's not divine providence, then I don't know what is.
Again, Trish, it was an honor to do this for you. Thank you for sharing this with me and for allowing me to do this for you. I'll be back there for his Angel Day and will take with me whatever you want.
It's just too funny to not share. A humorous little list from McSweeneys.net
Suggestions for a
Proposed National Code of
Health Emoticons and Abbreviations for
Instant Messenger.
BY Kathy Salerno
?AB? alcoholic blackout
SHOT shot
AR allergic reaction
IJOD I just overdosed
STD STD
B3D burn, third degree
HA heart attack
ROTFC rolling on the floor choking
RFLOTL renal failure likely owing to lifestyle
====> stabbed or hit by an arrow
BOBHCS being overcome by hazardous chemical spill
PSND poisoned
SBKBPWMS slowly being killed by parent with Munchausen syndrome
MPOS Munchausen parent over shoulder
X
O dead
X
If you had a CD or album coming out, who would you thank in the liner notes?
I think of this often, except in the frame of who I want to thank when I write (or rather finish) (or start, in some cases) my book(s).
It would, of course, be dedicated to my Grampsy, becaues I still have a card he gave me shortly before he died in which he encouraged me to write a book for him. Which I absolutely must do because I am that person who takes random promises quite seriously, no matter how trivial they might seem.
Beyond the dedication, I would thank my mom and sister, for being my best friends. They might not have had a choice in the matter, but they've been my rocks throughout. Of course, I have to thank my kids. For maybe not driving me completley insane. Just a little bit. And hey, they've given me some great material.
And of course, I'd thank all my mommy friends. Too many to list, but my "May Mommies" know who they are. I never thought I would be able to have friendships with girls. Eww. Girls are dumb and have cooties. But I cannot imagine where I'd be without all of their love and support. I miss them right now and have been having pleasant flashbacks of our cruise in February. A cooler group of chicks could not ever be found.
I am very lucky to have amicable relationships with almost all of my exes. Perhaps the friendship I value the most is that of Jeff. Of all the guys I dated, he is the one that I really considered my best friend while we were together. He was always the first person I wanted to talk to if I had anything worthwhile to say, or if I just wanted to hear someone breathe. He was funny as hell, artistic without being too angsty, and just an all around cool guy. If you've never had a big brother, he's the kind of guy you would want to be your big brother. That's the best way I know to describe him.
We broke up about seven years ago, but still keep in contact via email, myspace, and IM. We're sporadic at best, but we each live very different lives now. He's still single and working in Austin as an art director for a design firm. I'm divorced and laden with children here in Houston. While our communications are infrequent, our face-to-face visits are downright rare. The last time I actually hung out with Jeff was in 2004.
With about 24 hours notice last week, Jeff said he was coming into town. His parents still live here, so usually his visits are devoted to them. This time, he was game for getting the old crew together and having some drinks. I procured child care (thanks mom!) and looked forward to paryting, indeed like it was 1999. While driving to the bar Friday night, I thought about how much I missed Jeff's friends. You tend to forget that in a break-up, you have to break-up with everyone. In fact, everytime I go to the grocery store, I kind of hope I'll run into Jeff's parents because they were such cool people.
When I got to the bar, I discovered only a small group. Colin and Shan had joined us and I can't think of any people I would have preferred over them. Just hearing Shan's laugh was enough to make me laugh. His vocal contortions had become endearing again after such a long break and I wondered why they used to annoy me many years ago. Colin is the most stable and unchanging person of the group. His appearance was the same as ever; the band t-shirt was new, but his style was still old school. We have almost the same job, but at different oil companies, and our daughters are about a week apart. So we sat in the corner and compared stories of our 3 year olds while the bachelors talked about their respective careers. Eventually we began talking about music because Colin and I have impeccable and similar tastes. We waited for Shan to be out of earshot before openly mocking some of his preferred bands. Jeff and I slipped into our familiar banter with inside jokes clicking right back into place. Even though we were 10 years older than when we all first met, it didn't feel all that different.
A stranger approached the group. He was indistiguishable from the other scruffy artsy types populating the bar, and we didn't know him. He extended his hand to Shan and asked, while nodding towards Colin "Did you guys used to work at that skate shop together?" I was shocked that someone would remember us from so long ago and such an obscure place. I immediately felt guity for doubting Jeff when he would claim being a minor celebrity in the days when the three of them worked at the skate shop. I thought he was trying to impress me, but it was clear that they did have a somewhat devoted fan following. The stranger continued talking to Shan and Colin and eventually he recognized Jeff. "Man! You guys still all hang out! That's rad..." Finally, he saw me and somehow recognized me as Jeff's girlfriend from long ago and thought we were still together.
We assured him that we were all just hanging out as friends. It was fun to reminisce about the old skate shop and the good times we had there. While we were fondly remembering the half-pipe, parties after store closing, and other co-workers, the interloper uttered some words that disrupted our thoughts with an audible needle scratch across the record.
"Yeah man! My mom used to drive me and my brother to the shop and we'd hang out at the back counter while you put grip tape on the boards."
It was then that we remembered exactly how old we were. We realized we might actually look like loser burnouts, trying to relive the glory days. While the latter might be a bit true, the former was not. We went to another bar. No one there remembered us as adults when they were in junior high. Though the possibility existed, we were able to blend in and pass for unattached 20-somethings, having a night out among many. I do believe I'm the last 20-something of that crowd, and I've only 8 months to hang onto that title.
The rest of the night passed without any further embarassments. For awhile it really was like the old days. However, the scratch that dude left on my record, didn't fade so quickly. Where things might have appeared rosy colored before, they were crystal clear. I could see what had changed and what hadn't, what should have but didn't, and what was better if not thought about too much. I wonder how much longer we'll be able to hold onto our youth. When will we stop going to concerts and bars, and start meeting at the golf course? Do we look ridiculous? We don't feel ridiculous that I'm aware of. I don't think we're clinging to our youth in an unhealthy way. We all have stable careers, homes, social networks. It just seems right to hang out in the manner to which we are accustomed.
I hope it's not another 3 years before we hang out again. I hope that if we hang out more, we can establish a relationship in the present and not in the past. Or you know what? Maybe we can all just get drunk and dance to Joy Division like fools and I can quit overanalyzing every last stinking thing.
I love love love surprising people. It's the best kind of sadism. Like a friendly way to torture people. About 50 of my closest friends have been planning a cruise to Cozumel for about a year. Unfortunately I had to drop out because I didn't think I would be able to finance it. Approximately 40 other people dropped out too, so it was down to a trip of about 10 people, but still a good size group to visit.
Well, a magical fairy dropped some extra funds in my lap last month, and I was able to finagle a stateroom with my good friend Brigitte from Minnesota. We only told 2 of the other cruise girls, and everyone else was in the dark. Their shreiks when they saw me in the terminal with my bags packed yesterday was worth every painful tounge biting when I wanted to spill the news. Leigh Ann even forgave me for blowing her off the night before when I was supposed to hang out with her and Crystal from Michigan.
The food is fabulous, the people are amazing, the ocean seems very watery, and the liquor is flowing freely. Ask Leigh Ann about my karaoke video. 30 whole seconds I'm told. I hope it features me flipping off Jessica for tricking me onstage...
And here I sit on this beautiful ocean, on a damn computer. So I'm going to quit being pathetic and go take some pictures.
PS. Did you know the ocean is blue? Being from Houston, I thought it was brown and stocked with oil rigs. I'm only half right.
