Time to Make the Donuts!

So you know that I talk to Java Josh over at @DunkinDonuts on Twitter. (You can learn all about that from the blog post I did for Solid Cactus.)

Well, they sent me stuff!

I got a FedEx package on Friday. Inside the box, was a Dunkin Donuts box. Like the boxes that they put donuts in. Classy.

Inside that was a cool t-shirt and travel mug.

Needless to say, I was beyond excited.

It really geared me up for my first day teaching at the community college. I mean, how can you go wrong when you have such a kickass coffee mug?

(Oh, and the shirt in the picture... I REALLY want that one.)

These are our stories

Just a quick thought about stories.

The other night I was at my in-service for the community college. I ended up sitting by someone I went to college with. He’s teaching there, too. (Same class and time as me, also. We’re going to tag-team!)

Anyway, he asked how I was. I knew how he was. He’d been married and divorced in the two years since I’d seen him last.
He’d moved from PA to NC and back to PA.

But how was I? Well, I told him I dumped my boyfriend about a year ago.

Best thing I ever did, I told him.

“Why is that?” he asked.

Well, I thought about it. And I said, “I have done so much in this last year. I’ve accomplished things I wanted to accomplish. I’m proud of myself. I didn’t do anything when I was with him. He was a slug, and he turned me into a slug. It makes me wonder what I could have done with myself in those five years I was with him.”

“Don’t think like that,” he said.

Why not?!

He said, “That’s part of your story. That made you who you are. You know what you want now, and you needed that experience to get you there. Don't try to erase it or re-write it. Would you be here now if all that hadn't happened? How can you know?”

Fair enough.


And this is unrelated, but I liked it.
I was at church today and the priest made the best analogy ever.
“We are all puppies in God’s eyes.”

Emotional Vampires? Ahh!!!

Some people just insist on sucking your soul out. They don't all know it, but that's just what happens.

The important thing, of course, is to check yourself and make sure you're not one of the energy suckers. I read this article about Energy Vampires, and it got me thinking. Do I do these things to people?

Do you?

The article starts out like this: “Insecure people drain other people's energy. Symptoms felt, after dealing with an energy vampire are, weakness, impulse to eat, headaches, low energy.”

Crap, I know people have made me feel like that before. Some people just sap my energy and make me want to eat. (Is that why I can't fit into my skinny jeans?)

(Upon further consideration, I can't fit into my skinny jeans because I've gained, as Daniel says, “ten pounds of laughter.” Nobody's fault but my own.)

I like how the article breaks down the different types of “Energy Vampires,” too.

1. Sob Sister, Blamer, Drama Queen. People like this constantly talk and blow things out of proportion. Sob sister blames the world, blamer somehow makes YOU feel guilty, and drama queens are just huge energy vacuums that are energized by chaos.

   We all know people like this. But how do we deal with them? Especially the drama queens, because they're absolutely unbearable.

2. Constant Talker, Fixer Upper, Outwardly Nice Socializer. Constant talkers are addicted to their own voice. (Am I one of these?) A fixer upper needs you to fix all of their problems. And the outwardly nice ones are the worst! There's nothing like passive-aggression to really make you feel like crap. If you're pissed off, just tell me you're pissed off. Fake nice sucks.

3. The Go-for-the-Jugular Person, the Unintentional Sapper. The former here likes to put others down. And I'm sure everyone is an unintentional sapper from time to time. If I'm stressed out, I might stress other people out. I don't mean to, it just happens.

And most people really don't mean to, I think. The drama queen doesn't realize that she's the drama queen.

What should you do if you feel like someone is sucking your energy away? Or if the thought of talking to this person just stresses you out?

Um... if you don't have to talk to them... Don't!

Seriously, a friend is someone that makes you feel better about yourself— not worse. So limit the time you spend with people that make you feel crappy. Spend more time with the people that make you feel super-fantastic-awesome.

If you have to talk to these people, try to control the conversation. Say, “I've only got five minutes to talk.” Or, “I'm running to the bathroom now.”

If an energy sucking person starts talking about something you don't want to talk about, just say so. “I'm sorry, I don't want to talk about your wife's hangnail anymore.”

I guard my personal space like it's going out of style. I'm not a hugger. I hate hugging, actually. If I initiate a hug with you, then it's a big deal. Physical contact is valuable to me. I'll only give it to someone I really care about. (And I mean REALLY care about.)

How can you tell if you're an energy vampire?

Well, check out this article. It lists some major warning signs.

Like:

• You state your opinion like it's fact

• You complain endlessly about your problems

• You throw pity parties

• You wield guilt like a weapon

• You spread fear around

• You're stubborn (I especially liked the example she gave for this one. Read it!)

We are all like that sometimes. And it's cool to be a little Dracula.

But in moderation, please.

Take A Minute to Laugh

Sometimes I think we forget how important it is to laugh. We need to laugh at ourselves, at (well, with) one another, and at the world around us. There's humor in everything, and there's nothing wrong with getting a little bit of joy out of life. I spent a lot of time laughing last night, and I feel really good about it today. (So what if most of the laughing was at the expense of Swamp People?)

It's all about finding humor in your life. When someone says, “That's your boyfriend? I thought he was your father,” don't get angry at her. Just laugh. Instead of complaining about life's frustrations, try laughing about them. People are going to do what they do whether we react or not. So we might as well react in a positive way, right? No sense being a jerk. We always say, “Someday we'll look back on this and it will all seem funny.” But why can't it be funny now? Think of how it will sound as a story that you tell your friends. Laugh about it. When you keep thinking that way, you'll end up being more lighthearted and silly. Approach life with a healthy dose of mirth and you'll be less stressed with just about everything. And laughter is healthy!

It's totally fine to fake it. You know that studies show that the positive effects of smiling occur whether the smile is real or fake, right? Well I'm sure the same applies to laughter. Smile more, fake laughter, and you'll still see some positive effects. (Hell, the fake happy might even lead to real happy.)

So why exactly is laughter beneficial to us?

Well, it reduces the level of stress hormones like epinephrine, dopamine, and cortisol. It also increases the level of endorphins and neurotransmitters. And, seriously, how great do you feel after a good laugh? It's a physical and emotional release (that's second only to an orgasm, really. Wow, imagine laughing during orgasm). And laughing can strengthen your ab muscles!

Laughter connects us with others. And it's probably the most contagious things out there (next to lice and herpes). So if you start laughing, you'll get others around you laughing.

Look, I know I have a bunch of goofy laughs. Sometimes I have a really deep belly laugh, and other times I think I literally howl like a hyena. But it doesn't matter— it's my laugh.

I found this really cool link to different Laugh Sounds. What are you? Are you song-like? Grunt-like? Or snort-like?

If listening to these laughs doesn't make you laugh yourself... then there's something way wrong with you.

But you can fix it! Try dancing the Cha-Cha, but keep the beat by saying “ho-ho, ha-ha-ha.”

Or practice laughing! Pay attention to your laughs. Do a “ho-ho-ho” laugh, then a “ha-ha-ha” laugh, then try a “hee-hee-hee.” See when you use the different types of laughs throughout the day. Do you “ha-ha-ha” at certain times and “ho-ho-ho” at others?

If all else fails, Farts are Funny.

Simplify, Please?

Now that I'll be teaching at the community college, I've got way too many different emails that I'll need to check.

Let's break it down:
-personal email
-work email
-school email
-school WebCT email
-community college email

How am I supposed to keep up with all of this? What if something important goes to one that I haven't checked? There must be a way to simplify all of this.

There wasn't a grand point to this, but I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one with this problem.

Carpe Diem

Before I started my MA program, I had to keep a “journal” for a month. Just writing anything, really. Here’s the entry from June 4, 2008.

I’ve heard a lot of

-CARPE DIEM-

Today.

(Largely because I watched Dead Poets Society, but bear with me)

I helped stack the kiln.

I wanted all my pots to fit.

“I need a short one.”

“I know I have one of those.”

Kiln space is valuable.

Carpe KILN.

Carpe the diem kiln.

I don’t know when the next firing is.

So I took it.

Then I watched that movie.

It was about being what you have the potential to be.

Not what they told you to be.

Is it as simple as that?

I want to be an artist.

“But there’s no money in that!!!”

So I’ll write, then.

“Well at least that’s MARKETABLE.”

This is free, see.

Art school was not free.

THANKS FOR THE UNIVERSITY JOB, DAD!

It’s okay.

This is art.

I can’t touch it and feel the paint

Or clay

Or textile—

But it’ll work. It’ll have to.

Besides—I have a knack.

(I won a scholarship for it…

The day AFTER my dad got our tuition remission agreement)

So I have to carpe this diem.

Seize this day.

Smell these rosebuds

(While I may).

Or at least until I graduate

(For real, this time)

And have to make a living.

Can I still have an art studio?

Or is this supposed to be all-consuming?

I don’t want to be pigeonholed.

Let me paint on this paper.

Until I read that, I forgot how unhappy I was about the whole MA program. I didn’t want to do it. Hell, I spent a lot of time during the program bitching about all the reasons why I STILL didn’t want to do it. I always felt out of place, and I didn’t think anyone (except Becky) took me seriously.

But I stuck it out, and I’m so much better for it.

Seems like everything happens for a reason.

Social Me-Me-Media

I spend a good chunk of my day dealing with social media and all of its wonderful features. It's part of my job. But I still think that Facebook is sort of the devil. Especially since most people don't really understand what it's for. A fraction of those 500,000,000+ users really understand Facebook. This is one thing I'm sure I know something about because (GASP!) I was on Facebook when you needed to have a student email address to get an account.

Facebook wasn't always for everybody. It was named after the books given to students at the start of an academic year. Facebook was supposed to be a way for college students to get to know other college students. It was a slow growth. It started at Harvard, then moved to other Boston colleges, then the Ivy League, and Stanford. Then most other colleges and universities across the country got in on it. It was a cool college club.

I remember the backlash over every little format change. I remember how clean the profile pages used to look.

I REMEMBER WHEN FACEBOOK WAS CALLED “THE FACE BOOK.”

The real downfall came, of course, when Facebook launched its high school version in September of 2005. Because that just opened the door for Facebook to extend its membership to the employees of some companies... And on September 26, 2006 Facebook became available to everyone over the age of 13.

And that's when all the crap started. There was no Farmville, no Mafia Wars, and no garbage. Facebook was better when there was no such thing as a “status update.” (Do you remember that? I DO.)

It's fine to want to get to know the people around you. It's great to keep in touch! I get it, I get it, I agree. But Facebook sucks if you use it wrong.

Opening Facebook up to the world was like opening up the VIP lounge to everyone in the club.

If you want to keep putting up little updates, use Twitter. (Twitter is way cooler, anyway. It's also a much better source of information. I follow news feeds!)

If you want to write about your feelings, start a blog. (HELLOOOOO.)

I'm just saying that we have to remember both parts to the term “social media.” Yes, it's social. Yes, we should interact. But it's also “MEDIA.” That means that it's broadcast. Don't say something on Facebook unless you'd be okay with saying it on national television.

Facebook ain't what it used to be, and I just have to accept that.

(Though I really can't wait until the movie The Social Network comes out.)

Like Blue Topaz Today

Blue topaz looks like the sky. It's a cool blue, a light blue, and a bright blue. It was once the rarest color of topaz. (That's why it's the state gem of Texas. They found some rare, naturally-occurring blue topaz in 1969. They thought, “Oh man! How rare!”)

But thanks to a stable color enhancement process developed in the 1970s, it's become fairly common.

It's a hard gemstone. It can be split with a single blow.
Just like a diamond.

The blue topaz we see today is created by exposing colorless topaz to irradiation and then heat. Lighter colors are created by exposure to electrons, and darker blues are created by exposure to neutrons. (No word yet on what protons do.)

Making blue topaz like this can take minutes or years. It's a high-energy process, so it requires that the topaz be stored before it can be safely released. (I'm kind of a high-energy process myself, aren't I?) So don't rush the blue topaz. Let it do its thing. You'll be glad you gave it the time it needed to realize what it's supposed to be.

Blue topaz is supposed to balance emotions and calm passions. I could certainly use that. It releases tension and gives feelings of joy. I experienced that firsthand yesterday.

Topaz has some serious metaphysical properties.

It's said to promote individuality, creativity, and confidence. It can help remove doubts about decisions. I need all the creativity and confidence I can get. I also need to stop doubting decisions. I'm on the right track. I'm making good progress in my little world.

And topaz allows you to creatively change your personal world.

Blue topaz is supposed to be very good to people born under the zodiac sign of Scorpio.

Long story short, blue topaz is perfect for me. Right here, right now. Now is my time for blue topaz.

(I also read that if one is obsessed with sex, blue topaz is said to help curb the obsession. I don't see how that applies to me.)

Risk Being Happy

“Most people would rather be certain they're miserable, than risk being happy.” - Robert Anthony

I follow @GreatestQuotes on Twitter. This one just showed up on my feed, and it made me feel a little bit better. In fact, it made me feel a lot better.

I was feeling sort of bogged down and lousy at work today. Just a combination of work, hormones, and being a little tired. I was having a hard time focusing, and all I wanted to do was go take a nap.

I was certain I was miserable.

But I'm not allowed to be miserable. I don't have any reason to be miserable.

But happiness is a risk, too. Sometimes if you're too happy people will wonder what the hell is wrong with you. Life is too short and too sweet to be miserable. Take the leap into happy. Don't be afraid to flaunt it. Risk being happy.

To add to my turnaround from being miserable...
Mandy and I went to Dunkin Donuts and I discovered that the iced coffee is just as good with skim milk as it is with cream. (As long as I get the mocha flavor in it, that is.)

A Whole New World

Big important things are happening. My world is doing a little bit of exploding. And it's the good kind of exploding. It's time for me to share just how awesome I am with the rest of the world. (Because, really, it's selfish for me to keep all of this awesomeness to myself.)

I'm excited to report that I'll be teaching Composition 101 at the local community college this semester. I'm pumped because I love writing, I love people, and I love yakking in front of crowds.

But I'm also a little nervous.

Their education is in my hands. I can't screw up. If they can't write when I'm finished with them, it'll be all my fault. I want to make it fun. I want to make it exciting. But I need to make them learn.

It's an 8am class. How much learning will they do at 8am? How awake will I be at 8am?

I want to take them to the library. I want to take them to the art gallery. I want to get at least a few of them to love writing as much as I do. Is that asking too much?

Oh, probably.

I just want to make a difference.

The class is already going to make a difference for me. I called a lady today about an apartment! Imagine me with my own sweet pad. (Granted, it used to belong to Donna... and it seems like I've been following Donna around for the last two years. But that's another post all together.) And the only reason I think I can do this apartment thing is because of the extra buckazoids I'll be making from this teaching gig.

Everything happens for a reason. The universe is one big puzzle, and we shouldn't question how the pieces fall together.

The apartment is sweet. It's got an upstairs! It's got room for me to paint! It has RED CARPET in the bedroom. It is ten minutes from work.

I'm taking off like a rocket. Just over a year ago I was a confused grad student with a dead-end part-time job in a bank. I didn't know what I wanted or what I was doing. And now I've got a job that I love, an opportunity to teach, an amazing partner cheering me on, and a whole new world on my horizon.

So I guess I've already made a difference.

Grief is Selfish

I got a text from my mother while I was out last night. She said, "I am in the emergency room with grandma. Just pull in the driveway. Street is full."

What?

She was at the ER with her mother-in-law, and she was just trying tell me about the parking situation? Long story short, I ended up at the ER at 2:30 in the morning. Saw my grandma, and then they wheeled her out for an MRI. Was only supposed to take 45 minutes, but it took like 2 hours. I hung with my mom the whole time.

"I'm totally not phased by this stuff anymore," I said. "I've lost two grandparents, and I've seen so many other great aunts and uncles go through these things. I'm not even really affected by this right now. I'm almost numb."

"No, I see what you're saying," my mom said. "I work with death all the time." (She's the cemetery manager for the church.)

"I mean, what is grief, anyway? Are we grieving for the person? Or for ourselves because we'll never see the person anymore? Grief is an inherently selfish act." I figured I'd throw it out there.

"No, you're right. Grief is selfish."

I said, "You know, Grandpa died in the same summer as Snoopy." (Snoopy was our first dog.) "I grieved more for Snoopy than I did for Grandpa. But it's because Snoopy was a bigger part of my everyday life than Grandpa was. I felt bad about grieving more for a dog than for a human being. But that's when I realized that I was grieving for myself."

My grandma is going to be fine. She's got wonky potassium levels, and she kind of OD'd on Advil. But she'll be all right.

I didn't get home until like 5:00 in the morning.

Live Your Life With Arms Wide Open

Okay, so I've seen more of The Hills today than I ever have before. I'm not sure I totally understand. What's the deal with these people? Why am I supposed to care? Why do they make me want to dress up and go to parties? How can you have a group of friends like that? I think they've literally all slept with one another.

This is not to say that I don't like a good reality show from time to time. I secretly love Ochocinco: The Ultimate Catch on VH1. I like that he turned a dating show into some weird sporting event. He's using a bracket system to pick these women. I hope there are office pools about it.

I also get a pretty good chuckle out of Money Hungry. A bunch of teams paid $10,000 to be on this show. That's right... they had to pony up the dough. They are all overweight, and it's a competition to see who loses the most (I think). In the end, a team will win $100,000. Ten teams, $10k each, so that's the total. But they're, like, running around in thongs and playing in hot tubs. It's like The Real World meets The Biggest Loser. That's sort of funny.

It's almost like everything on TV is both real and fake at the same time. "Reality" shows aren't very real. I'd really rather watch Full House. (I did that today, too.)

I wouldn't want to live any portion of my life in front of a camera like that. It's left up to someone else to edit.

So it's kind of ironic, then, that the theme song on The Hills is "Unwritten."

"Drench yourself in words unspoken, live your life with arms wide open. Today is where your book begins... The rest is still unwritten."

Ah! But they aren't even writing their own stories.

Bangin' on the Bongos Like a Chimpanzee

It's Mark Knopfler's birthday. He's a pretty cool guy. You probably know him as the lead guitarist, vocalist, and songwriter for Dire Straits. He also produced an album for Weird Al. Funky stuff. He wrote the score for one of my favorite movies, too— The Princess Bride.

But there's something special about “Money for Nothing.” That's been my “song” since I was a fetus.

Seriously.

It was really big when my mom was pregnant with me. She said it was on all the time. So you know how sometimes people will put headphones up to their stomachs and play Mozart or something for the unborn kid? Well, I got Dire Straits.

As I was born smack in the middle of the 1980s, I'm sort of proud to have this song be one of my little anthems. The song is in first person, but it's not Mark Knopfler singing the song. It's a character. And it's a pretty cool character.

Here's what Knopfler had to say about it:

“The lead character in 'Money for Nothing' is a guy who works in the hardware department in a television/custom kitchen/refrigerator/microwave appliance store. He's singing the song. I wrote the song when I was actually in the store. I borrowed a bit of paper and started to write the song down in the store. I wanted to use a lot of the language that the real guy actually used when I heard him, because it was more real...”

Yeah, Knopfler actually wrote the song in the hardware store. He took notes based on what the guy working there was saying. I guess MTV was on in the store, and the guy didn't get it. He said stuff like, “What are those? Hawaiian noises? That ain't workin'.”

That's how you write. You take what's going on around you, and you mash it up and make it something else. We're at the point, I think, where you really can't say anything new. But you can still say it the way you want to say it.

There will probably be more later on songs that define me as a person.

One notable one would have to be ZZTop's “Tush.”

That won't get its own blog post, though. Because it's easy enough to figure out.

I'm Not Nuts

For work today I had to write two pages about almonds.

Almonds are my favorite nut. I enjoy them on ice cream, and I enjoy them on their own. I would probably use almond butter.

But almonds, much like peanuts, are not really, truly, nuts. (Peanuts are legumes.)

Almonds are actually closely related to peaches. Peaches! The almond tree is a species of tree native to the Middle East. The seeds of this tree are “drupes.” Drupes. (Say that out loud.) So they're the opposite of peaches, basically. The fleshy shell is removed, and what we're actually eating is the “pit.” I won't eat peach pits, but I will eat almonds.

How did they figure out how to eat almonds? And how did they figure out that it was the opposite of a peach? The fruit part of wild almonds contains the glycoside amygdalin, and that actually becomes deadly prussic acid (or hydrogen cyanide) when the seed is crushed.

Oh my God! How many people died trying to figure out how to eat almonds?

Almonds were domesticated in the early Bronze Age. (Almonds are older than Jesus.)

Almonds and the amygdala in the brain actually have the same root word. The amygdala plays a function in emotional learning.
Am I more emotional because I enjoy almonds?
Or do I enjoy almonds because I am emotional?

Regardless, I just ate a handful of almonds. And I feel pretty good about it.

Almonds are not exactly what they seem. I like to think I'm the same way. They aren't nuts, but they aren't peaches, either.

I'm not nuts.

You Don't Belong in the Dictionary

I always felt like I was more mature than my years. When I was in kindergarten, I insisted on wearing a pearl necklace every day. (So much so, in fact, that my teacher started calling me Barbara Bush. I was a very conservative 5-year-old.) I didn't care what people thought.

And that's what real maturity is, people. It's not caring what people think. It's being secure enough in who we are as individuals that we don't need other people to validate us. I can validate myself. We are not defined by everyone else's definition of us. (That doesn't happen until we die. And, even then, if we've defined ourselves well enough, we might still be in good shape.) We are defined by what we think and make of ourselves.

Yesterday, for instance, I put a picture up on Facebook of my newly pierced ears. Looking at that picture I realized that I have a really nice profile. (Not a Facebook profile, but a real actual profile.) So I left a comment under my own picture saying so.

BAM! I just validated myself.

A few weeks ago I was singing karaoke on the patio at the casino, and a lady from the newspaper took my picture. When I finished singing she asked me for my name and information. She then said, “If it'll be in the paper, it'll be in next Thursday. If not, you'll definitely be on the website.” I just looked at her and said, “I'm gorgeous. I'll be in the paper.”

Guess what?

I was in the paper.

It's not about being full of yourself or narcissistic (though, those things are totally necessary in moderation). It's about knowing that you're awesome. How can anyone else think you're awesome if you don't already realize it?

Reflect yourself out onto other people. Don't let them reflect onto you. Because (most of the time) they don't really know what's going on, anyway.

This is one of my favorite quotes:
“I love Mickey Mouse more than any woman I have ever known.” - Walt Disney

Exactly. Because Mickey Mouse was an extension of himself. Mickey Mouse was a reflection of Walt Disney. He didn't let anyone mess with that. And look how that worked out! We aren't defined by what others make of us— we're defined by what we do to leave our mark on this world.

You can't love other people until you love yourself. Give yourself a chance to shine. Don't worry about what other people think of you. Those people will come and go... But the Mickey Mouse inside you will be there forever.

Hello Bloggy Blog

I just got my ears pierced yesterday (yes, I know, I'm nearly 25), so I figured it was as good a time as any to open a new blogging chapter, too.

I really can't believe I actually got my ears pierced. I'm terrified of needles, and my mom doesn't have hers pierced, either. “I'll never do that!” I can't even tell you how many times I've said that.

But you know what? I'm not afraid of anything anymore.
I'm not afraid of taking steps, and I'm not afraid of making mistakes. How else do you learn?

Besides, I wasn't allowed to be afraid. There was a 5-year-old girl that got hers pierced right before me. She didn't cry. I wasn't allowed to cry, either.

And I didn't cry. (That doesn't mean I didn't get dizzy and pass out afterward. But that is not the same as crying.)

So now I have permanently altered my body. First time I ever did that on purpose.

I hope to write about things that I do, read, think, and eat.
Because I do those things.