Selfies

Yesterday, the internet blew up with selfies. It was in response to a Jezebel article about how selfies are a cry for help, and that they aren't empowering. I'm sure you can imagine my response. However, on G+, I posted shortly thereafter a few of my fellow feminists had posted and made a call for people on my circles to share selfies because I wanted to see their faces.

The response was incredible!

Tons of people - men and women, young and old, some who had never posted their photo on G+ - posted their photos. There were a few people who complained, stating that it was becoming like "that other social network" (Which one, I ask? MySpace, where selfies really got popular, or Facebook, where so many people still lurk?), but it didn't harsh my buzz.

See, I grew up initially on places like forums, Yahoo! Groups, and LiveJournal, where you didn't really share pictures of yourself. At my age (pre-teen) it was discouraged heavily - after all, what if people misused your photo, stalked you, etc.? I knew usernames and typing styles, but I didn't know faces. When people DID post their pictures, it was like pure joy. Here! Person! You are REAL and I can see you, and it is wonderful.

Yesterday was filled with joy for me. I have been dealing with some dumb emotions, and I know a lot of people going through some hard times, but there was suddenly this burst of "Hey, look at me, I exist!" All of this beauty and love and laughter and joy. 

I don't know if yesterday meant anything to anyone else. It meant a lot to me.





THOUGHTY LOGO © JOHN W. SHELDON 2010-2013. USED WITH PERMISSION. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION STRICTLY PROHIBITED.
ALL CONTENT WITHIN THIS BLOG AND ANY OF THE ALTERNATE SITES LINKED ARE SUBJECT TO FAIR USE UNDER U.S. COPYRIGHT LAWS. THE OPINIONS AND CONCLUSIONS WITHIN THIS BLOG ARE THOSE OF THE AUTHOR ONLY, UNLESS OTHERWISE STATED, AND ARE NOT INTENDED TO REPRESENT ANY CORPORATION OR OTHER ENTITY.

Happiness Project

I'm going to try this on for size.

One Half

J. Wesley may be returning to Iraq soon. If not this year, then next year (next year, it could be Afghanistan).

We were talking about him deploying the other day and we realized that a large part of the reason that we're both worried about it is because we're so close and spend enough time together that we're practically the same person. We were a lot alike even before we got married, and now we're like, identical. We have very few interests that we don't share. We like most of the same music, movies, food, activities, we agree on philosophy almost all of the time, we're in the same political spectrum, it's ridiculous. Our handwriting is similar. We use the same modes of speech. It's kind of creepy. We can literally finish each other's sentences, but don't most of the time because we know that it bugs the other. We say things at the same time a lot. We have the same ideas. If I think of something that I want to see drawn, he can draw it exactly as I'm thinking it, even if I don't fully describe it.
It would be like having half of myself be gone. Even when he left the first time (he started going back and forth to training within the first month after we got married in '06), it was very hard, because we spent so much time together before he left. Even when he was in Basic, I wrote every single day that I could (which was basically every day). I wrote to him like I would write in a journal. I tell him, and told him, everything.

He knows EVERYTHING about me. I wouldn't ever say I know everything about him - TGW is a very private person and he's very complex (I don't think I'm too complex). I would say I probably know more about him than anyone else does. When he is away, I lose the opportunity to know what he is doing and what he is dealing with, sometimes because he's not allowed to tell me. That sucks. It's rough.

We survived the last deployment (we did pretty well for newlyweds, I think), and I am definitely more emotionally prepared this time - it's never possible to be totally ready, though - and I'm now dealing with things in much healthier ways. But he's still a huge part of me.
I know we will make it through it. There is nothing that would stop us from it, and the weird thing is, part of me wants him to go. It's a lot of good stuff - the money, the experience, the things he gets to do, the educational benefits - even though he'd be away. And hell, I'll miss him. Constantly. There is not a moment of the day when we are apart, even now, that I don't want to be with him. We've even talked about him reenlisting. It's a tough decision because there are positives and negatives. I want him to, even though I don't want him to. How frustrating!

I guess I'm just trying to think it through. Be as ready as I can. But man... it's a long time without myself.

Let Me Learn by Living

I hate so many things.

One of my biggest pet peeves is the attitude of those older than me - which includes a large, large portion of the population - regarding my ability to understand the world around me.

I had a discussion today with my mentor at work about politics (why? I don't know, we argue.) and he insists that I take everything too personally. I judge people in politics on my personal opinions about them. My opinions are based on hearsay, since I don't personally know the people.

Living in Fear of the Future

I think about the future every day.

Near future, far future, future with teleportation and flying cars and space travel, future with waking up in the morning and driving the same route to work. I think about the possibilities - maybe going on vacation to Florida, someday going to Rome again, seeing Greece, wondering if I'll ever be daring enough to dive again.

Will I graduate college, and proceed to a Bachelors? Will I continue improving at my current job, or burn out? Is it possible to do something I really want to do?
Is there anything I'll ever really want to do?

I don't know.

Excuses, Excuses

Someone told me yesterday that I am the kind of person who, instead of solving problems, just makes excuses.

I heartily disagree.

I am the type of person who makes excuses to cope with difficult problems, and then solves the problem. I discuss things at length. I explain why I think I can't do something or why I absolutely cannot do something. But more often than not, I solve the problem.

It's one thing for someone to just force a fix. When someone says to me "I like to fix problems, not make excuses" it irritates the hell out of me. Why? Because sometimes, you can't just hammer away a problem. Sometimes, you have to work through different scenarios. Maybe these people do this in their heads. I don't.

I butt heads with myself. I fight between the part of me that wants to fix things and the part of me that thinks I can't. I offer scenarios and shoot them down, then reevaluate. It's a way of checking to make sure what I've already resolved to do is correct. When I am making excuses, it's incredibly likely that I've already made a decision - I just don't want to share it with you.

There is value in excuses. If you make excuses, people expect less of you. This gives you time. Other people run through and say yes, I can definitely solve this, aloud, and sometimes they don't solve it. I say, I might be able to, but maybe I can't. And sometimes I do. I prefer this method. It keeps me safer from failure. Yes, it's a coping mechanism - but it works.

Don't tell me I just make excuses.
I solve problems. I just work them out first.

On Eloquence

For anyone who knows me, the last likely thing to come to mind when they think of me would most likely be eloquence (or possibly, tact).

When I write, it is not beautiful or elegant or striking, like so many well-read blogs are, and my poetry and short stories have always been abrupt, unkempt, and somehow... jagged. I'm not eloquent. I don't have a way of speaking or writing that draws the eye or mind to my side, that sounds smooth and fluid and like something you would want to look at and think about. I am less like honey.

I love you (To my husband, on our anniversary)

Dress for the Job You Want

In the corporate world, and most other jobs that are not super casual, people often say "Dress for the job you want, not the job you have." I have a huge problem with this.

First, there is the assumption that someone can afford to dress for the job they want on the salary for the job they have - an incorrect assumption. Dressing like an executive when you're mid-level, or mid-level when you're entry level, is incredibly hard on a wallet. You may be able to thrift, make some wise choices with basics, but it will never quite be enough. Everyone who tries this always looks one step behind (particularly if you have a body type outside of the fashion norms - read: you're not skinny, in uniform sizing, with good skin and magic hair). Going to a stylist for haircuts is expensive, and a hairstyle is a vital part of an outfit. Good shoes - hard to find if you have any orthopedic issues without going to a higher price range - are also important. It's a little rough for those of us on the low levels to try to achieve style nirvana that will help us make it to the top.

BAM!

There have been no secret Me's lately, mostly because I'm tired and losing faith in myself. I was a Secret T-Rex again, which is always a fun thing to do. I need more ideas. My creativity is dying along with my interest in many other things.

The holidays have been... holiday-like.

Not feelin' it.

So it's the holidays. Woo.

I'm not feeling it this year. I've been down, and we finally got a tree and all, but we're still mostly broke and can't afford gifts for everyone, so it bums me out. No cookies, no presents, husband hates holiday music... It's nothing like I feel like Christmas should be.

He finally got a job, though, which is great, but totally screwed up my two planned vacation days.

So, just heard Brittany Murphy died from cardiac arrest. WTF? It's crazy. Life is so fleeting, cheesy, I know, but what the hell? It is so hard to think of spending every day working, doing something just to get by, not ever having time to really live life. I'm 21 years old, but feel like I'm 40. I didn't have the time to do crazy teen or 20-something shit, and not because I got married. Living with my parents would have been a disaster. Living on my own was a disaster, for the short period it happened while John was in Iraq. Working sucks, and I hate it every day, but I can't see a future where I won't have to work, or even one where I can do something I enjoy - mostly because I can't figure out what I might enjoy!

Christmas depresses me. The snow and the pressure to be happy makes me feel terrible. The "Christmas Spirit" is bullshit. So few people actually care about anyone else, and half the time they'll act like they care and be lying. Do you actually care if your coworkers come to work the next day? Would it be upsetting if one of your friends just disappeared? Do you ever really consider what people mean to you?

Probably not.

We don't really care about anyone as much as we should. Not enough to be there for them, to trust them, to be genuine. Smiles are lies.

I miss Christmas when I was young. Blinded by wrapping paper and food and toys, oblivious to the hell that comes with the holiday. Ignorance was bliss.

Alone Again... Naturally

Lame title, I know.

TGW is out of town for the weekend for work. We think he may have a real job soon, which is great.

I'm exhausted. Work has been so hard lately. Let me explain:

Cult of Personality

There is a lot to be said for cookies, and that is OM NOM NOM NOM.


(Today, I am a Secret Cookie Monster. I have yet to legitimately have a cookie, but I have devoured my difficulties.)

We covered Theories of Personality in Intro to Psych this past week (I'm struggling a little to keep up with the work - in Psych, yes, but more in Business Communications... oh, shibbywop that is a boring class.). My favorite section, next to Jung (who I did not know was a Nazi sympathizer, awesome.) was the personality tests.

Fixer-Upper

Sample Conversation:

Me: Rambling on about my day, blah blah. Kind of bummed out, feeling generally dissatisfied with life, would like a cookie.
Person: Have you ever tried (typical self-help thing that is supposed to improve happiness)?
Me: Yes. Did not produce happiness. Why?
Person: You always seem so saaaad.

I get that I am a miserable, whiny person. I'm sad, often, and I recognise it. I realise that doing xyz may create an opportunity to a) be happy, b ) make friends, or c) learn how to pretend to be happy. However, let me explain a few things.