Communication is extremely important in all relationships, in my very unprofessional, young opinion. This I know, not only because I have heard hundreds of adults regurgitate that same statement over and over throughout my very short life, but also because I have come to experience the consequences when that statement is regarded as being untrue. Does that make sense? Basically, I'm noticing more and more the effects that a lack of communication can have on all type of relationships.
Of course, there's every day communication. Things that keep a relationship, well, a relationship. Simple babble about one another's day, telling jokes, sharing stories etc. Then there's the kind of communication that is necessary to maintain a functional level of happiness and peace between the two parties. This communication is the kind I have the most trouble with. The talks that begin with me saying, "Well, it's just that lately I've been feeling..." or "I really think we need to talk about..." etc., etc., fill in the blank. Now this not only applies, for me, to romantic relationships, but to relationships with friends and family as well. It's mostly difficult because I feel that in order to make you really understand where I'm coming from, I have to twist and turn my words so much that by the end of the conversation I've completely lost what I was trying to say in the beginning. My meaning is so morphed that I can no longer argue my point or feeling anymore, I'm merely conforming to what I think you want to hear. Now, of course, this is something I need to work on. It's hard for me though, I'm finding, to hurt feelings.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
OK, OK, OK!
I am going to ATTEMPT to REMEMBER that I have a blog per request of some of my dearest friends...so here goes!
Friday, February 13, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
I found God on the corner of First & Amistad
I am currently visiting my mother at her new abode in CA, the state I grew up in- more specifically we're in the town I grew up in. It was such a different life and time then. To pass all of my old hang outs and friend's houses is uncomfortable and odd to me. When we left here we left quickly and with few goodbyes. I've been back one time since, but only to vacation in Disneyland... not to re-explore the town.
I half expect to ring the doorbells of all of my old friends and have them answer looking the same they did when I left. An older version of their sheltered, immature, Jr. High selves. The resurfacing of these old memories is weird. I was not nearly the same person I am today. I find it hard to believe that even a trace of the same values and beliefs I hold today could be found in the girl that lived here 5 years ago. (Well, maybe that's not entirely true).
I remember that girl being so concerned about the brand of her clothing and the products she styled her hair with. Obsessed with acrylic nails and her pursuit of them, dieting every day and working out all the time. I remember a girl who was 119lbs and "happy"... that everyone liked her that way. I remember someone who never thought about what she wanted, but what everyone else wanted for her, who they wanted her to be. It wasn't until her world was turned upside down that she grew some sort of a backbone and discovered free will. Passing my old middle school I recall prank phone calls, hot Cheetos's, long walks to friend's houses, elaborate Halloweens, countless, countless sleepovers. I see all the times I fought with the girls I called my friends, and the chaotic times when the pecking order within our group changed. I remember always being at the bottom of that pecking order, and doing everything in my power to be important to the girls who were so important to me. Sadly enough, it wasn't until attending High School (OUTSIDE of California) that I met some down to earth people who broke me (in part) of all of those bad habits. I met people who were interested in my thoughts, my ideas, theories about the world- not who designed my jeans.
It was refreshing, and now that I've seen what down to earth people are like, it's hard for me to come back and remember what a slave I was to social stigmas, trends, and 13 year old girls. Maybe this is all more bitter than sweet. Of course, I've not shaken all of those habits. I was born and bred with the idea that looks are everything, and whether it be right or wrong, I'll always carry some of that with me. I do feel blessed, however, to see how far I've come. Upon leaving this gorgeous city in gorgeous and green California I was completely disgusted with the Arizona home we acquired. It felt like a step-down... but now I realize how much of a step-up it really was (at least for me).
I have come far, I've come to realize that all the things valued here are superficial, and I feel blessed to have been exposed to other ways of the world- better ones- in my opinion. I wish I had known then what I know now... that my move between the 8th and 9th grade from my comfy home in California into the dry heat of Arizona would be, by far, the best thing that would ever happen to me, to date. Now, looking back on all of this, I wouldn't have it any other way.
I half expect to ring the doorbells of all of my old friends and have them answer looking the same they did when I left. An older version of their sheltered, immature, Jr. High selves. The resurfacing of these old memories is weird. I was not nearly the same person I am today. I find it hard to believe that even a trace of the same values and beliefs I hold today could be found in the girl that lived here 5 years ago. (Well, maybe that's not entirely true).
I remember that girl being so concerned about the brand of her clothing and the products she styled her hair with. Obsessed with acrylic nails and her pursuit of them, dieting every day and working out all the time. I remember a girl who was 119lbs and "happy"... that everyone liked her that way. I remember someone who never thought about what she wanted, but what everyone else wanted for her, who they wanted her to be. It wasn't until her world was turned upside down that she grew some sort of a backbone and discovered free will. Passing my old middle school I recall prank phone calls, hot Cheetos's, long walks to friend's houses, elaborate Halloweens, countless, countless sleepovers. I see all the times I fought with the girls I called my friends, and the chaotic times when the pecking order within our group changed. I remember always being at the bottom of that pecking order, and doing everything in my power to be important to the girls who were so important to me. Sadly enough, it wasn't until attending High School (OUTSIDE of California) that I met some down to earth people who broke me (in part) of all of those bad habits. I met people who were interested in my thoughts, my ideas, theories about the world- not who designed my jeans.
It was refreshing, and now that I've seen what down to earth people are like, it's hard for me to come back and remember what a slave I was to social stigmas, trends, and 13 year old girls. Maybe this is all more bitter than sweet. Of course, I've not shaken all of those habits. I was born and bred with the idea that looks are everything, and whether it be right or wrong, I'll always carry some of that with me. I do feel blessed, however, to see how far I've come. Upon leaving this gorgeous city in gorgeous and green California I was completely disgusted with the Arizona home we acquired. It felt like a step-down... but now I realize how much of a step-up it really was (at least for me).
I have come far, I've come to realize that all the things valued here are superficial, and I feel blessed to have been exposed to other ways of the world- better ones- in my opinion. I wish I had known then what I know now... that my move between the 8th and 9th grade from my comfy home in California into the dry heat of Arizona would be, by far, the best thing that would ever happen to me, to date. Now, looking back on all of this, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Precious
Ninny is my 4 year old cat. Previous to her I was NOT a cat fan whatsoever. When my mom told me we were getting a cat I reluctantly accepted the fact and helped decide what kind of cat it should be and what it should be named. Mom, Aj, Cj and I decided that this cat should be orange and named "pumpkin". You can imagine my disappointment when Mom came home with a small black kitten. It wasn't long before I was head over heels for this small, fury animal. She quickly became adored by everyone in the household. We named her Pumpkin, which slowly became "punkin" because it was more cute, and easier to say. Unfortunately, that same cat no longer goes by that name. My mother and I often talk in a baby voice to each other and after calling the cat "kitty kitty" the phrase developed into "Ninny Ninny"- long story short my, now, 4 year old, black cat is named Ninny. After all of this rambling I will provide some pictures.
Because she was such a good kitty we bought her a new collar and kitty bed, courtesy of my mom! Here is Ninny adapting to her new home =) :
I recently moved Ninny to HE's house after my mother moved. HE is taking her in and housing her for me, as my current roommate is allergic to kitty cats. In order to transport her to HE's house I placed Ninny in a cat carrier. She's never been in one before and FREAKED out when I put her inside. During the 20 minute drive to her new residence Ninny clawed so ferociously at the metal grate that she started to bleed. Turns out she completely tore apart her nails and nail beds. HE and I spent three hours in the vet @ 12am to fix Ninny's predicament, and $200 later she was nearly cured. After thrashing around in her carrier for 20 minutes Ninny was exhaused... here are some pictures of her pooped out at the emergency vet. 
Because she was such a good kitty we bought her a new collar and kitty bed, courtesy of my mom! Here is Ninny adapting to her new home =) :
Life on Mars
It's odd to see a house you've lived in for four years filled with so many memories and then emptied. I don't like walking around my, now, empty house. Mom left on the 27th and now I reside in a city without her- who I have lived with for 17 years. It's not so much that I haven't ever been away from my mom, because I have. I have spent summers with my dad, weekends at my friends' etc. It's not that I don't know how to carry on without her in the next room over. It's more of the concept that she's physically not here anymore. She has taken up residence a good 8 hours away and though I can reach her 1 hour by plane ride, it's not the same as driving 20 minutes uptown. "It's as if you'd gone away to college" she said, but it isn't really that at all. Part of the sadness I feel is for the house we no longer inhabit. For the four walls and ceiling I had come to love so very much. More than anything it's the fact that I can't go back to the place I call home. Sure, I will come to find a new home, but I've never been a fan of change. During my childhood I moved upwards of 8 times, just because my stepfather found it necessary to buy a brand new home every couple of years. Yeah, it was traumatic- but I've yet to come across someone who hasn't had a traumatic childhood in some sense. Anyway, I just HATE moving and thus, I abhor the fact that my mommy has moved away.
It's a little surreal, a little like life on Mars.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
18
I'm 18 today. I've been waiting for this day for a very long time.
Lunch with HE, getting my nails done, then dinner with Mom, Aj, Cj, RJ and CC. =D.
Today will be a great day.
Happy Birthday to me.
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