1. Taking a loft bed down is quite the undertaking.
2. Have tall people help out when taking the loft down.
3. Puppies are great therapy.
4. Saying good-bye is tough.
Well, here it is. The last week of school: one more day of classes, one study day, and then three days of finals. Then by next Monday, the campus will be empty and everyone will be back home. It's sort of crazy to think of (and I'll post about that later).
This morning, Megan and I headed to church, like we usually do. It was a normal Sunday for me, but for Megan it was a different Sunday: it was her last day at church for a few months. Since she has come with me to church nearly every Sunday, she's become a 'regular' at my church and she has made connections with people outside of me. Today, Megan had to say good-bye to new friends that she won't probably see for a few months.
With this week and this year coming to a close, I'm discovering I'm going to have to say some good-byes. Good-byes are always hard, even if you are going to see them in the near future. It's even harder if you know you won't see them for quite a long while or even ever. It's tough to know that the relationship will change and the next time you see them, you may never have the same relationship as before.
But good-byes aren't all bad. Good-bye allows you to change; it allows you to grow more and beyond. Saying good-bye to a friend for a while gives you the ok to move on. Although it's painful, sometimes it's just the point in your life that requires a few farewells and for some new adventure to come along and give you something different.
So although I'm going to be saying goodbye for only a few months, I'm still giving myself and others the OK to move beyond - to grow apart, discover new things about ourselves then come back in the fall and be able to show off what we've found out about ourselves and the world around us. Then, once we've shared, a whole new adventure can begin together - we will be forever growing.
Peace!
-Nicole
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Stigma
1. Sometimes research is depressing.
2. Always remember that professors are people too.
3. Take a nap.
4. You have more control than you think.
Megan here. It's the week before finals and we're all freaking out a little bit. Life is crazy.
I grumble a lot about some of my classes, my sociology class in particular as of late. It's just been a pain in my side and it shows no signs of slowing down. I have two papers due on Monday... The thing is my professor can be a bit insensitive and well... a typical male. His big thing is basketball, but for all I have against the guy, he really says some insightful things when he gets on a rant. They just tend to stick in my head for a little while as I go on with the rest of my day.
Today we talked about deviance and stigmas, sanctions, norms, etc... What is deviant in society is set by those in power. The only problem is that we're often the ones with that power. We enforce the social norms by inflicting sanctions on those we label as deviant--even if that deviance isn't hurting anyone or anything. My professor made the comment, "We have to remember that society lives in our heads."
I'm not quite sure what was so earth shattering about that, I mean, I guess I'm not too deviant, or wouldn't be marked as such by society. Sure, my blue hair was a bit of a shock to my grandparents, but they got over it I think. It's just that sometimes we listen too much to the influences around us and maybe lose sight of who we are, or who we felt we were.
There's this concept of labeling theory that says that once you label someone as something, they begin to see themselves as fitting that label. If you label someone as a criminal, they feel that's the only label that fits and essentially they go along with it and play the part. I'm just thinking about my own life in which I was fine in one area, happy as being one thing, until that one thing was rejected by those I trusted most. Maybe it's natural to enforce or fight for what we feel as normal, a result of subconscious action even, but when that subconscious action interferes with individuality, that's when we need to reexamine what we value as a society.
Don't let society live in your head, at least don't let it smother what makes you you and what makes you happy. Fight back, and resist the pressure and temptation to fit into certain groups or certain circles. Do what makes you happy, as long as you're not causing harm or detriment to someone else. You really do have more control than you think, and maybe if we all put forth a little effort to resist useless societal sanctions and norms, we'll start seeing some positive changes.
Be safe, be well, be happy. All my love,
-Megan
2. Always remember that professors are people too.
3. Take a nap.
4. You have more control than you think.
Megan here. It's the week before finals and we're all freaking out a little bit. Life is crazy.
I grumble a lot about some of my classes, my sociology class in particular as of late. It's just been a pain in my side and it shows no signs of slowing down. I have two papers due on Monday... The thing is my professor can be a bit insensitive and well... a typical male. His big thing is basketball, but for all I have against the guy, he really says some insightful things when he gets on a rant. They just tend to stick in my head for a little while as I go on with the rest of my day.
Today we talked about deviance and stigmas, sanctions, norms, etc... What is deviant in society is set by those in power. The only problem is that we're often the ones with that power. We enforce the social norms by inflicting sanctions on those we label as deviant--even if that deviance isn't hurting anyone or anything. My professor made the comment, "We have to remember that society lives in our heads."
I'm not quite sure what was so earth shattering about that, I mean, I guess I'm not too deviant, or wouldn't be marked as such by society. Sure, my blue hair was a bit of a shock to my grandparents, but they got over it I think. It's just that sometimes we listen too much to the influences around us and maybe lose sight of who we are, or who we felt we were.
There's this concept of labeling theory that says that once you label someone as something, they begin to see themselves as fitting that label. If you label someone as a criminal, they feel that's the only label that fits and essentially they go along with it and play the part. I'm just thinking about my own life in which I was fine in one area, happy as being one thing, until that one thing was rejected by those I trusted most. Maybe it's natural to enforce or fight for what we feel as normal, a result of subconscious action even, but when that subconscious action interferes with individuality, that's when we need to reexamine what we value as a society.
Don't let society live in your head, at least don't let it smother what makes you you and what makes you happy. Fight back, and resist the pressure and temptation to fit into certain groups or certain circles. Do what makes you happy, as long as you're not causing harm or detriment to someone else. You really do have more control than you think, and maybe if we all put forth a little effort to resist useless societal sanctions and norms, we'll start seeing some positive changes.
Be safe, be well, be happy. All my love,
-Megan
Monday, April 23, 2012
Note: Finishing Up
As the year finishes up, I'm compiling some statistics along with some favorites of the readers...which is where I need you!
Here is what I would like to know!
1. Favorite post of each writer (Nicole, Megan, Melissa)
2. Favorite lesson
Just leave a comment and you'll see the results sometime next week.
Peace!
-Nicole
Waiting
1. Try to get some sleep - going 27 hours on no sleep is not a good idea.
2. Sometimes the weather is a bit moody.
3. Writers block is annoying.
4. Good things come to those who wait.
Why hello there! Sorry for long delay - I've been having a bit of a tough time finding things to blog about. Plus, it is nearly the end of the semester and things are a bit busy. You'd think after ending a play, I would have time...apparently my life just gets busier. I had a pretty busy weekend and didn't get a lot of sleep. I think I made up for it with a nap yesterday and a good night's sleep (Megan didn't fare as well as I did though). We only have a few more days of classes then finals, then we're done! It's crazy.
The typical response to "Excited to be done?" would be "I can't wait!" but for me, I can wait. Sure, I'm excited for summer to come, but I also want to savor these last few days here on campus. The sun, it seems, has finally decided to stay. The campus is being cleaned up from winter and it's become possible to lay outside and read or just chill. It's something calm in the midst of all this craziness.
Honestly, I can wait for summer. I'm beginning to realize how much I am going to miss my family here. It's going to be weird, when I work on campus this summer, to not see their faces and hear their voices. I'm ok with waiting for summer to come. I'm going to pack my next few days full of chilling with friends (even if we are just doing homework). I'm going to listen to laughter and tell jokes and be a bit ridiculous.
I can wait. It's all good.
Peace!
-Nicole
2. Sometimes the weather is a bit moody.
3. Writers block is annoying.
4. Good things come to those who wait.
Why hello there! Sorry for long delay - I've been having a bit of a tough time finding things to blog about. Plus, it is nearly the end of the semester and things are a bit busy. You'd think after ending a play, I would have time...apparently my life just gets busier. I had a pretty busy weekend and didn't get a lot of sleep. I think I made up for it with a nap yesterday and a good night's sleep (Megan didn't fare as well as I did though). We only have a few more days of classes then finals, then we're done! It's crazy.
The typical response to "Excited to be done?" would be "I can't wait!" but for me, I can wait. Sure, I'm excited for summer to come, but I also want to savor these last few days here on campus. The sun, it seems, has finally decided to stay. The campus is being cleaned up from winter and it's become possible to lay outside and read or just chill. It's something calm in the midst of all this craziness.
Honestly, I can wait for summer. I'm beginning to realize how much I am going to miss my family here. It's going to be weird, when I work on campus this summer, to not see their faces and hear their voices. I'm ok with waiting for summer to come. I'm going to pack my next few days full of chilling with friends (even if we are just doing homework). I'm going to listen to laughter and tell jokes and be a bit ridiculous.
I can wait. It's all good.
Peace!
-Nicole
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
That One Teacher
1. Don't drink too much caffeine while writing a paper. You won't sleep even when you're done.
2. Just because someone has a differing opinion, does not mean they're attacking yours.
3.Sometimes people throw banana peels at you.
4. You are your own best advocate.
Hey hey, Megan here, Happy Wednesday again! The school year's winding down and it's getting super scary. I just turned in my final Psych paper today. Yikes.
It seems I have been having a lot of conversations or little moments of insight surrounding the teachers in my life, both academic and otherwise. Shout out to Amy, since I know she'll read this and know what I'm talking about. I honestly hope every single one of you can think back and remember one really influential teacher in your life, someone who has influenced you profoundly, who helped you find yourself, or at least perhaps started you down that path.
I know for me this was my poetry teacher during my Junior year of high school. I was just coming off of one of the roughest summers of my life and was still struggling to cope with the death of my aunt who lost her fight with pancreatic cancer at age 52. I had dabbled in poetry ever since I was a freshman and as I was registering for classes at the end of my sophomore year, I was considering a career in political science. I kind of wanted to take Advanced Public Speaking, but ended up taking a chance on and dropping it, picking up Poetry Writing instead.
I'm really glad I did, because that course ended up changing my life, and continues to have a huge effect as I start my English Writing minor next fall (with a poetry emphasis.) That teacher (who I hope will find this and read it) supported and encouraged me to write, not what felt poetic or appealing, but what I was really feeling and experiencing. She taught me to use my own voice, and was the first real person to give me positive feedback to the point where I actually felt what I was doing was worth while. Her big thing was always "Tell your story." Looking back, I am so, so grateful for having known her, and that we continue to stay in contact. I have returned twice now to speak to classes of hers.
This teacher has always treated me with respect, it's as if she took the opportunity to learn from me as much as I took the opportunity to learn from her--she's a wonderful poet herself. She taught me to use always use my voice, and that's a lesson I still remember and try to keep close. The other week, my friend told me to be an advocate and I felt almost offended at the idea. How dare someone assume that's my job? After pondering it for a few days, I realized that I really was my own best advocate. I consider myself an advocate for so many other people that it only made sense that I should be willing to represent myself as well. I kind of had no choice in the matter. We are all our own best advocates, and as long as I have a voice that I'm willing to use, I am called upon to use it.
I will always remember my poetry teacher and the impact she had and continues to have on me. I hope everyone has a similar story they can look back fondly upon, and if that's not the case yet, I think it will be. Take a second to think about and appreciate the teachers in your life. They deserve so much respect for having the willingness to impart their knowledge and wisdom.
All my love,
Megan
2. Just because someone has a differing opinion, does not mean they're attacking yours.
3.Sometimes people throw banana peels at you.
4. You are your own best advocate.
Hey hey, Megan here, Happy Wednesday again! The school year's winding down and it's getting super scary. I just turned in my final Psych paper today. Yikes.
It seems I have been having a lot of conversations or little moments of insight surrounding the teachers in my life, both academic and otherwise. Shout out to Amy, since I know she'll read this and know what I'm talking about. I honestly hope every single one of you can think back and remember one really influential teacher in your life, someone who has influenced you profoundly, who helped you find yourself, or at least perhaps started you down that path.
I know for me this was my poetry teacher during my Junior year of high school. I was just coming off of one of the roughest summers of my life and was still struggling to cope with the death of my aunt who lost her fight with pancreatic cancer at age 52. I had dabbled in poetry ever since I was a freshman and as I was registering for classes at the end of my sophomore year, I was considering a career in political science. I kind of wanted to take Advanced Public Speaking, but ended up taking a chance on and dropping it, picking up Poetry Writing instead.
I'm really glad I did, because that course ended up changing my life, and continues to have a huge effect as I start my English Writing minor next fall (with a poetry emphasis.) That teacher (who I hope will find this and read it) supported and encouraged me to write, not what felt poetic or appealing, but what I was really feeling and experiencing. She taught me to use my own voice, and was the first real person to give me positive feedback to the point where I actually felt what I was doing was worth while. Her big thing was always "Tell your story." Looking back, I am so, so grateful for having known her, and that we continue to stay in contact. I have returned twice now to speak to classes of hers.
This teacher has always treated me with respect, it's as if she took the opportunity to learn from me as much as I took the opportunity to learn from her--she's a wonderful poet herself. She taught me to use always use my voice, and that's a lesson I still remember and try to keep close. The other week, my friend told me to be an advocate and I felt almost offended at the idea. How dare someone assume that's my job? After pondering it for a few days, I realized that I really was my own best advocate. I consider myself an advocate for so many other people that it only made sense that I should be willing to represent myself as well. I kind of had no choice in the matter. We are all our own best advocates, and as long as I have a voice that I'm willing to use, I am called upon to use it.
I will always remember my poetry teacher and the impact she had and continues to have on me. I hope everyone has a similar story they can look back fondly upon, and if that's not the case yet, I think it will be. Take a second to think about and appreciate the teachers in your life. They deserve so much respect for having the willingness to impart their knowledge and wisdom.
All my love,
Megan
Friday, April 13, 2012
Opening Night (and 100th Post!)
1. Stage make-up is really not good for your face.
2. Group projects are more work than you would expect.
3. If you wander around Target for an hour at 9am, the employees start to give you odd looks.
4. Try less to impress...and just be yourself.
It's opening night for the play I have been working on for a few weeks. It's an odd feeling, for sure. This is my first college production I am performing in and the first show I will see costume pieces I help create up on stage. This will also be the first time my sister Ashly will see me perform. I'm super excited, but also very glad it's coming to an end. It's been stressful and a lot of time has been put in. But overall, I'm very glad I did it (despite the fact I complained nearly the whole way through).
Last night was our final dress rehearsal, which means afterwards, we went to Gio's, a local pizzeria. When I was on technical crew for Grease earlier on in the season, my experience at Gio's was not the greatest. Although this might just be cognitive dissonance, I believe it was because it was a brand-new experience where everyone was an adult and able to make choices for themselves. I was sort of in shock and I left pretty early. I also had some emotions come up that I didn't expect to appear. The tradition the theatre has is presenting a "Bucky" award to 2 freshman (1 performer and 1 techie). I knew for Grease I wouldn't get it because I had only put in a bit of effort and time compared to other freshmen techies. It deservingly went to my friend Hannah, who I have known since we were in 7th grade. These emotions of jealously and a bit of frustration and anger appeared. I knew it was ridiculous to feel such things, so I worked through them and came to the decision to not worry about getting a Bucky. Sure, I wanted it, but there are plenty of theatre students who didn't get a Bucky and still do well.
Up until I arrived at Gio's, I had truly forgotten about it. I pushed the thought aside and tried to enjoy myself. Then the moment came: the presentation of the Bucky. The performer Bucky went to my friend John, which is well deserved. Because I am mainly a performer, I thought my chance had passed. But then, my name was called out.
It was unexpected and wonderful, although I do think others were as deserving as I was. The Bucky is voted on by the upperclassmen. Which meant I had somehow made an impact on them and that is pretty epic. I definitely learned something: don't worry about it. It seems that when we forget the prize or the desired award, we try less to impress and become more of ourselves. I completely forgot about the Bucky, which I wanted quite a bit, and I just lived as myself.
Peace!
-Nicole
PS. This is the 100th post!!!! Yay!
2. Group projects are more work than you would expect.
3. If you wander around Target for an hour at 9am, the employees start to give you odd looks.
4. Try less to impress...and just be yourself.
It's opening night for the play I have been working on for a few weeks. It's an odd feeling, for sure. This is my first college production I am performing in and the first show I will see costume pieces I help create up on stage. This will also be the first time my sister Ashly will see me perform. I'm super excited, but also very glad it's coming to an end. It's been stressful and a lot of time has been put in. But overall, I'm very glad I did it (despite the fact I complained nearly the whole way through).
Last night was our final dress rehearsal, which means afterwards, we went to Gio's, a local pizzeria. When I was on technical crew for Grease earlier on in the season, my experience at Gio's was not the greatest. Although this might just be cognitive dissonance, I believe it was because it was a brand-new experience where everyone was an adult and able to make choices for themselves. I was sort of in shock and I left pretty early. I also had some emotions come up that I didn't expect to appear. The tradition the theatre has is presenting a "Bucky" award to 2 freshman (1 performer and 1 techie). I knew for Grease I wouldn't get it because I had only put in a bit of effort and time compared to other freshmen techies. It deservingly went to my friend Hannah, who I have known since we were in 7th grade. These emotions of jealously and a bit of frustration and anger appeared. I knew it was ridiculous to feel such things, so I worked through them and came to the decision to not worry about getting a Bucky. Sure, I wanted it, but there are plenty of theatre students who didn't get a Bucky and still do well.
Up until I arrived at Gio's, I had truly forgotten about it. I pushed the thought aside and tried to enjoy myself. Then the moment came: the presentation of the Bucky. The performer Bucky went to my friend John, which is well deserved. Because I am mainly a performer, I thought my chance had passed. But then, my name was called out.
It was unexpected and wonderful, although I do think others were as deserving as I was. The Bucky is voted on by the upperclassmen. Which meant I had somehow made an impact on them and that is pretty epic. I definitely learned something: don't worry about it. It seems that when we forget the prize or the desired award, we try less to impress and become more of ourselves. I completely forgot about the Bucky, which I wanted quite a bit, and I just lived as myself.
Peace!
-Nicole
PS. This is the 100th post!!!! Yay!
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Releasing my Inner Child
1. Cut people some slack. No one's perfect.
2. Keep some hummus around.
3. Some people don't like hugs, and that's okay.
4. It's okay to sleep with a teddy bear.
It's Megan. Hope your week is going smoothly. At least it's almost the weekend right?
Woah. I turn 20 in less than three months and I am TOTALLY freaking out about it. It isn't so much added responsibility or massive lifestyle change as it is the number itself. 20. That zero and absence of a one in the ten's place is just way too freaky. At least agree with me that it's a really intimidating number.
I feel like a little kid again, just because I feel like I've regressed to a much younger state of mind. College changes you to be more mature, but also more immature--not in bad ways, but just ways that remind you of when you were a little kid.
For example:
I get really excited over mac and cheese, french toast sticks, and hot cocoa.
I go nuts for candy and cartoons.
Hugs make everything better.
I lapse into random goofy spells
and...
I slept with a teddy bear.
You don't understand! I slept with a teddy bear over break, not because I had to or because one was just there, but because I wanted to and it made me feel better. I never slept with stuffed animals when I was a child, not because I didn't have any, but because I just didn't like to sleep with them. I really didn't see the appeal at all. In my defense, I slept with my dog a lot--but that's more like a living stuffed animal that gets really warm, starts panting, and then moves to another corner of the bed because she wants nothing to do with you... I'm just surprised at how comforting a teddy bear can be, even at my age.
I don't know if this whole regression thing is a product of college or not, but I don't see it as bad, things like being goofy don't hurt anyone or anything. If anything, I'm staying young at heart right? We all adore elderly folks who know how to have a good time or who can understand the mindset of a child and so maybe that's what I'm doing. Heck, I hope I'm still breaking into random accents when I'm 85. I will embarrass my grandkids SO much!
This year has allowed me to grow leaps and bounds as a person, both through personal insights and education. I think it's okay for me (and all of us) to be able to laugh and access our inner children as well.
Peace, love, hugs, and high fives
-Megan
2. Keep some hummus around.
3. Some people don't like hugs, and that's okay.
4. It's okay to sleep with a teddy bear.
It's Megan. Hope your week is going smoothly. At least it's almost the weekend right?
Woah. I turn 20 in less than three months and I am TOTALLY freaking out about it. It isn't so much added responsibility or massive lifestyle change as it is the number itself. 20. That zero and absence of a one in the ten's place is just way too freaky. At least agree with me that it's a really intimidating number.
I feel like a little kid again, just because I feel like I've regressed to a much younger state of mind. College changes you to be more mature, but also more immature--not in bad ways, but just ways that remind you of when you were a little kid.
For example:
I get really excited over mac and cheese, french toast sticks, and hot cocoa.
I go nuts for candy and cartoons.
Hugs make everything better.
I lapse into random goofy spells
and...
I slept with a teddy bear.
You don't understand! I slept with a teddy bear over break, not because I had to or because one was just there, but because I wanted to and it made me feel better. I never slept with stuffed animals when I was a child, not because I didn't have any, but because I just didn't like to sleep with them. I really didn't see the appeal at all. In my defense, I slept with my dog a lot--but that's more like a living stuffed animal that gets really warm, starts panting, and then moves to another corner of the bed because she wants nothing to do with you... I'm just surprised at how comforting a teddy bear can be, even at my age.
I don't know if this whole regression thing is a product of college or not, but I don't see it as bad, things like being goofy don't hurt anyone or anything. If anything, I'm staying young at heart right? We all adore elderly folks who know how to have a good time or who can understand the mindset of a child and so maybe that's what I'm doing. Heck, I hope I'm still breaking into random accents when I'm 85. I will embarrass my grandkids SO much!
This year has allowed me to grow leaps and bounds as a person, both through personal insights and education. I think it's okay for me (and all of us) to be able to laugh and access our inner children as well.
Peace, love, hugs, and high fives
-Megan
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Definition of Family
1. Writer's block sucks.
2. Walking without shoes on in 31 degree weather is interesting.
3. Chocolate is wonderful.
4. Welcome to the family.
Happy Easter everyone! I hope it was swell and was restful. My weekend was fairly relaxed - did a ton of sleeping, talking, laughing, cooking, and just doing nothing. I was able to see my aunt and uncle, which is always a blessing because they live a bit ways away. I got to spend a whole day with my mother (which I have waited for for a while) and we went to see The Hunger Games, in which I cried buckets of tears. I also got to experience a new kind of family.
My family is pretty small right now, especially at holidays. My mother and I often spend holidays with another family, with whom we are close with. When making plans for this Easter, I simply assumed we would be spending it with that family again. On the contrary, it turns out we were going to have a total of 7 people at our house. My house is small and our table can only handle about 4 people and 6 is squishy, but possible. Having 7 people in our house for a few hours was going to be a feat and having a meal - oh dear, was it going to be an adventure.
My concept of family has always been very fluid. Because I grew up an only child, anyone who I connected on deeper levels with I considered to be a sibling in some sense. I have always had multiple parents because I was always in church ("it takes a village to raise a child"). It hasn't been until recently I've discovered how deep I can be connected with someone and not be related to them. With the addition of my sister, I have gone on a huge discovery process of what being family, especially what having and being a sibling means. My definition became shared experiences and having to deal with one another, despite emotions. At the end of the day, even though one might be angry or annoyed at the other, there is still that desire to be with one another. The other almost becomes a home base. In talking with friends about missing home, the recurring theme seems to be that: the comfort and feeling of home, no matter where or what the situation is.
This Easter has taught me something a bit more about family - it can grow in ways one would not expect. Megan stayed with me nearly the whole break. We spent a ton of time at church and she's gotten to the point where she has developed her own relationships outside of me. Because church is such a huge part of my life, it will frankly be very weird to not have her with me at church this summer. I have a fairly large network of people at my church and Megan has found her own place. It's just a new definition of family - she went from being a friend of a friend to being a sister in many aspects (heck, my mom even gave her an Easter basket).
For the past few months, I have created a family at school. And I expected it to happen. What I didn't expect to happen is the growing of my family at home. Not only has Megan sort of become an addition, it has happened with my mom also. She now has more children to take care of - she has dedicated herself more to relationships with the kids she mentors. I apparently now have about 20+ siblings.
So to wrap it, my definition of family is continuing to grow and change. It seems that anyone I meet may just become my newest family member. And it's pretty sweet.
Peace!
-Nicole
2. Walking without shoes on in 31 degree weather is interesting.
3. Chocolate is wonderful.
4. Welcome to the family.
Happy Easter everyone! I hope it was swell and was restful. My weekend was fairly relaxed - did a ton of sleeping, talking, laughing, cooking, and just doing nothing. I was able to see my aunt and uncle, which is always a blessing because they live a bit ways away. I got to spend a whole day with my mother (which I have waited for for a while) and we went to see The Hunger Games, in which I cried buckets of tears. I also got to experience a new kind of family.
My family is pretty small right now, especially at holidays. My mother and I often spend holidays with another family, with whom we are close with. When making plans for this Easter, I simply assumed we would be spending it with that family again. On the contrary, it turns out we were going to have a total of 7 people at our house. My house is small and our table can only handle about 4 people and 6 is squishy, but possible. Having 7 people in our house for a few hours was going to be a feat and having a meal - oh dear, was it going to be an adventure.
My concept of family has always been very fluid. Because I grew up an only child, anyone who I connected on deeper levels with I considered to be a sibling in some sense. I have always had multiple parents because I was always in church ("it takes a village to raise a child"). It hasn't been until recently I've discovered how deep I can be connected with someone and not be related to them. With the addition of my sister, I have gone on a huge discovery process of what being family, especially what having and being a sibling means. My definition became shared experiences and having to deal with one another, despite emotions. At the end of the day, even though one might be angry or annoyed at the other, there is still that desire to be with one another. The other almost becomes a home base. In talking with friends about missing home, the recurring theme seems to be that: the comfort and feeling of home, no matter where or what the situation is.
This Easter has taught me something a bit more about family - it can grow in ways one would not expect. Megan stayed with me nearly the whole break. We spent a ton of time at church and she's gotten to the point where she has developed her own relationships outside of me. Because church is such a huge part of my life, it will frankly be very weird to not have her with me at church this summer. I have a fairly large network of people at my church and Megan has found her own place. It's just a new definition of family - she went from being a friend of a friend to being a sister in many aspects (heck, my mom even gave her an Easter basket).
For the past few months, I have created a family at school. And I expected it to happen. What I didn't expect to happen is the growing of my family at home. Not only has Megan sort of become an addition, it has happened with my mom also. She now has more children to take care of - she has dedicated herself more to relationships with the kids she mentors. I apparently now have about 20+ siblings.
So to wrap it, my definition of family is continuing to grow and change. It seems that anyone I meet may just become my newest family member. And it's pretty sweet.
Peace!
-Nicole
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
To Tell the Truth
1. Appreciate the opportunities you've had.
2. Be nice on April Fools' Day, or else people might not talk to you.
3. Be prepared to face some Karma.
4. Tell the truth.
Megan here, hope you all have a great Easter break!
Last Thursday, I was lucky enough to hear National Book Award winners, Nikky Finney and Thanhha Lai, at a discussion and reading hosted by NPR's Lynn Neary. Anyone who knows me well knows I am an enormous poetry nut and so I naturally jumped at the chance to hear Finney who won in the category of Poetry for her book, Head Off and Split. For Finney, the concept of truth kept coming up again and again, she cited Adrienne Rich as a major influence and credited her for teaching her how to tell the truth. Unfortunately, the poetic community is now grieving Adrienne Rich, as she passed away last Wednesday night.
I am going to let you in on one of my little secrets. I am a fantastic liar. I really am. I can spin a web of lies a mile wide and probably look you in the eyes and smile while doing so. If this is sounding alarm bells in your head, relax. I am not a pathological liar, nor am I sociopathic. With great power comes great responsibility, and in this case, I think the greater power lies in me having the nerve and integrity to tell the truth despite my skill. Just because I can, doesn't mean I always do.
I've always known I could lie and lie well, but it's been on my mind ever since I executed my various April Fools' Day shenanigans with relative ease. see here: Just Kidding. Honestly, I'm not proud of it. It means that, at one point, maybe even many points, I was so uncomfortable with the truth and the thought of revealing the truth, that I became far too good at hiding it. Thankfully, times change, and I am anything but guarded these days.
Finney's suggestion that we should tell the truth seems so simplistic, yet it sounded so profound coming from her hushed whisper--a product of laryngitis. We have to present the truth to the world as well as to our own selves. It's a scary thought. I don't deceive the world lately, but I do plenty of lying to myself, such as "This is what I want to say." "I really enjoy this" or even "This is why I'm feeling this way" when really, I would much rather say something less sugar-coated and I may despise what I'm doing in that moment. Being true to yourself is where and how you find happiness, at least with my experience. It's just unfortunate that this is sometimes really, really difficult to do.
Tell the truth as you know it. Strip away all the false fronts, false information, and false smiles--maybe even false frowns. If you're happy, go out and be happy. If you're sad, recognize that and try to improve it. Try not to hide your emotions--both good and bad--from the world. Truth is complicated, even subjective at times, but it is all of our jobs to present it as we know it. I mean heck, we only live one life, and that life might as well be as real and veridical as possible.
Tell the truth, I think you'll be glad you did. I am.
-Megan
2. Be nice on April Fools' Day, or else people might not talk to you.
3. Be prepared to face some Karma.
4. Tell the truth.
Megan here, hope you all have a great Easter break!
Last Thursday, I was lucky enough to hear National Book Award winners, Nikky Finney and Thanhha Lai, at a discussion and reading hosted by NPR's Lynn Neary. Anyone who knows me well knows I am an enormous poetry nut and so I naturally jumped at the chance to hear Finney who won in the category of Poetry for her book, Head Off and Split. For Finney, the concept of truth kept coming up again and again, she cited Adrienne Rich as a major influence and credited her for teaching her how to tell the truth. Unfortunately, the poetic community is now grieving Adrienne Rich, as she passed away last Wednesday night.
I am going to let you in on one of my little secrets. I am a fantastic liar. I really am. I can spin a web of lies a mile wide and probably look you in the eyes and smile while doing so. If this is sounding alarm bells in your head, relax. I am not a pathological liar, nor am I sociopathic. With great power comes great responsibility, and in this case, I think the greater power lies in me having the nerve and integrity to tell the truth despite my skill. Just because I can, doesn't mean I always do.
I've always known I could lie and lie well, but it's been on my mind ever since I executed my various April Fools' Day shenanigans with relative ease. see here: Just Kidding. Honestly, I'm not proud of it. It means that, at one point, maybe even many points, I was so uncomfortable with the truth and the thought of revealing the truth, that I became far too good at hiding it. Thankfully, times change, and I am anything but guarded these days.
Finney's suggestion that we should tell the truth seems so simplistic, yet it sounded so profound coming from her hushed whisper--a product of laryngitis. We have to present the truth to the world as well as to our own selves. It's a scary thought. I don't deceive the world lately, but I do plenty of lying to myself, such as "This is what I want to say." "I really enjoy this" or even "This is why I'm feeling this way" when really, I would much rather say something less sugar-coated and I may despise what I'm doing in that moment. Being true to yourself is where and how you find happiness, at least with my experience. It's just unfortunate that this is sometimes really, really difficult to do.
Tell the truth as you know it. Strip away all the false fronts, false information, and false smiles--maybe even false frowns. If you're happy, go out and be happy. If you're sad, recognize that and try to improve it. Try not to hide your emotions--both good and bad--from the world. Truth is complicated, even subjective at times, but it is all of our jobs to present it as we know it. I mean heck, we only live one life, and that life might as well be as real and veridical as possible.
Tell the truth, I think you'll be glad you did. I am.
-Megan
Monday, April 2, 2012
Just Kidding
1. There will be days where everything is due and you have no time to get a head start on things.
2. Learning a new citation format is confusing and sometimes difficult.
3. Writing a paper is hard at 2am.
4. Jokes have a purpose.
I hate April Fool's.
Hate. It.
Just so you all know, I despise that there is a day to play jokes on innocent people. I become nearly paranoid that someone is planning something without my knowing. I despise the fact that people would even want to play a joke on me. What worst though is that as we grow older, the jokes become more than just "There's something crawling up your arm!"; they turn into something that throws your mind for a loop.
A few weeks ago, Megan told me she enjoyed April Fool's. So on Saturday, I was having lunch with her and I told her she best not be planning to pull anything on me. She smiled at me and I knew I had made a mistake - she hadn't been planning anything but now she sure was. I gave up on changing her mind after a few minutes of persistent complaining. We kept on eating and just before we were going to leave, Megan looks at me and tell me, "Nicole, I'm transferring." My stomach dropped and near-panic set in. "You're joking. You are not." Megan nodded and said, "That's why I was talking with my mom on the phone. I don't want to worry about the cost of school anymore - it's too much." A few moments later, though, long enough for the panic and sadness to really set in, she cracked a smile and told me she was completely joking. I promptly smacked her and yelled something along the lines of, "Why would you do such a thing!"
For the rest of the day and into Sunday morning, I was angry at her. Mad that she made me feel suddenly emotional. (It didn't help that she kept me in suspense of another trick Sunday morning, only to tell me she had nothing planned.) But I can't really blame Megan for anything. In fact, now that Sunday is over, I'm slightly glad it happened.
See, I don't take jokes well, especially if they are about me. I believe lies or jokes are rooted in some piece of truth, so if someone pokes fun at me, I automatically think it's true. I also don't take jokes well if they are directed towards my fears. It was crazy to see how quickly I became sad when Megan told me she was transferring. I thought of how all the things we have planned for next would not happen because she wouldn't be there.
To get to my point: don't take things so seriously. Sometimes jokes are useful to show you how much something or someone means to you. It brings up all those emotions and fears of a possible situation and it shows you just how much you want to avoid it or prevent it from happening.
So next year, I might take April Fool's a bit better...or I just might get revenge on Megan.
Peace!
-Nicole
2. Learning a new citation format is confusing and sometimes difficult.
3. Writing a paper is hard at 2am.
4. Jokes have a purpose.
I hate April Fool's.
Hate. It.
Just so you all know, I despise that there is a day to play jokes on innocent people. I become nearly paranoid that someone is planning something without my knowing. I despise the fact that people would even want to play a joke on me. What worst though is that as we grow older, the jokes become more than just "There's something crawling up your arm!"; they turn into something that throws your mind for a loop.
A few weeks ago, Megan told me she enjoyed April Fool's. So on Saturday, I was having lunch with her and I told her she best not be planning to pull anything on me. She smiled at me and I knew I had made a mistake - she hadn't been planning anything but now she sure was. I gave up on changing her mind after a few minutes of persistent complaining. We kept on eating and just before we were going to leave, Megan looks at me and tell me, "Nicole, I'm transferring." My stomach dropped and near-panic set in. "You're joking. You are not." Megan nodded and said, "That's why I was talking with my mom on the phone. I don't want to worry about the cost of school anymore - it's too much." A few moments later, though, long enough for the panic and sadness to really set in, she cracked a smile and told me she was completely joking. I promptly smacked her and yelled something along the lines of, "Why would you do such a thing!"
For the rest of the day and into Sunday morning, I was angry at her. Mad that she made me feel suddenly emotional. (It didn't help that she kept me in suspense of another trick Sunday morning, only to tell me she had nothing planned.) But I can't really blame Megan for anything. In fact, now that Sunday is over, I'm slightly glad it happened.
See, I don't take jokes well, especially if they are about me. I believe lies or jokes are rooted in some piece of truth, so if someone pokes fun at me, I automatically think it's true. I also don't take jokes well if they are directed towards my fears. It was crazy to see how quickly I became sad when Megan told me she was transferring. I thought of how all the things we have planned for next would not happen because she wouldn't be there.
To get to my point: don't take things so seriously. Sometimes jokes are useful to show you how much something or someone means to you. It brings up all those emotions and fears of a possible situation and it shows you just how much you want to avoid it or prevent it from happening.
So next year, I might take April Fool's a bit better...or I just might get revenge on Megan.
Peace!
-Nicole
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