In a sense, I’m the one who ruined me: I did it myself.
— Haruki Murakami, 1Q84 (via tiejens)
— Haruki Murakami, 1Q84 (via tiejens)
Have you ever known someone to be so encompassing, so wholly alluring to fluster even the strongest part of you? I pride myself in being aloof, professional and one not to flutter under the gaze of someone so heady.
But let me tell you this; I’m having a hard time today. Especially when we’re in very close proximities and he got himself cleaned up. Well, excuse me Mr. W, but I’m single and I’m trying to find my Mr. Darcy and you are flustering me. And I don’t like being flustered.
Its good for me though, to be that close to someone and choose to ignore their existence (let’s face it, right now, I can’t afford to date. I’m trying to remain focused on what I want in life and where I stand. I’ll date later.) My body’s on a frenzy, my hormones sky-rocketed, my stomach shook with butterflies and my hands were against me. Shaking this way and shaking that way.
But I’m fine now. Really, my body is getting used to him and well, I’ve seen sexy people before right? Right?
Damn it, he even smells like freshly brewed coffee.
Curse you, Mr. W.
Oh my failed attempts at romance.
I feel it apt to remind myself that I named Mr Stranger so apt even before I had met him. I found out a few days later just who he really was. He was a co-worker/old friend’s boyfriend (later turned husband) that flirted with everyone. He really was Mr Wickham.
A few days back, I was grocery shopping. I had a basket full of items and I knew I wouldn’t be eligible for the express line, I had more than a few items but not enough for me to get a cart.
I woke late that morning and it was decided that I would head to the store to stock up on a few things that was getting low in the pantry. Normally, I try not to spend my late mornings in the store, I’ve met too many rude people and have let them ruin my mood before.
But this morning, I was feeling alright. I had a list, had clipped a coupon and a bag of freshly baked bagels waiting for me to sink my teeth into after I paid. As I was making my way to one of the two open cashiers, I was cut off. Now, normally I would have been feeling less than hospitable and at first I didn’t smile. I was slightly irked, to say the least. It wasn’t the fact that someone had cut ahead of me, it happens quite a bit but it was the silly fact that her cart was filled. I don’t mean, filled to feed a family of four; filled to feed the Dugger family!
Before I could begin to let the curses roll (in my head only), she glanced at my basket and immediately she glanced up at me and smiled. “You can go ahead of me if you’d like.” And I was shocked. Astounded. At that moment, I forgot that someone had cut me off, I forgot that I was supposed to be irked at her, heck, she seemed really nice but I didn’t want to be a thorn in her side. I shook my head gently and told her politely that it was “okay, I don’t mind to wait.” It was a late Saturday morning and really? I had nothing better to do. But I wasn’t going to tell a stranger that, no matter how nice she was.
She smiled at me, began unloading her cart and I settled in for some good old self-reflection time. Not ten minutes passed when she glanced back at me and smiled embarrassingly, “Really, I don’t mind waiting. You go ahead.” I nodded my thanks and we chatted briefly.
The reason why I wanted to write this post was yes, I still would like her to know that I was genuinely thankful but also, it has been quite a long time that someone has been sincerely nice to me. I find people are ruder and ruder and it was an eye-opening experience to me to realize that everyone likes kindness; we should treat others as we would like to be treated. After all, a smile goes a long way.
I have been meaning to write this post for the past few days now but I wanted to keep it to myself for a while to let it stew and formulate a way to tackle this thing down, once and for all.
Family is a touchy subject for me (and I bet for a lot of other people too), its something that should just be accepted in all shapes and sizes. And I understand that, it has taken me a while but I am finally coming to terms with the fact that, they can’t change; I can never make them change. The change must come from within.
I’ve never been close to my mom or to my mom’s side of the family, there are reasons why I have never been close but it’s neither here nor there. And I don’t feel comfortable enough to talk about it to complete strangers but it has affected my yester-years. Most definitely.
Just recently I have started to accept her back into my life, on the grounds that I’m twenty and I wish I could have a mother to talk to. I was mistaken and I once again came to terms with the fact that I am so usable and the reasons why I left her behind came rushing back.
Sometimes we have to know what is good for us and what’s unhealthy. Cutting off the corruptible isn’t going to be comfortable or fun but it is definitely worse than the remedy. And the remedy was worth it. I can look myself in the mirror and not hate what I see. I can finally be comfortable in my skin, I’m not unhappy; really things are adding up in my favor.
My one problem with myself is I let myself be used, I let myself become people’s option while I make them my priority; I let myself be pushed around and stepped upon. But this year, I promised myself…this year would be different. I’m tired of living like I’m not alive, just going through the motions, glad to not feel anything. But I’m done with that.
That was the old me. This new me? Wouldn’t tolerate half the things I always did, know when it’s in my best interest to leave and know when I’m loved and should stay. What I’m trying to sort out through all of this is that I’m done with it all.
This year, I’m going to fall hopeless, irrevocably in love with my Mr. Darcy (I just have to find him first), I’m going to rock climb, I’m going to swim in the ocean. I’m going to live like I’m given a reprieve and really, I am. I’m redeeming myself and this year, I’m done with hurting myself and letting others kick me down. I’m hungry for the vibrancy of life, I’m starved, I’m thirsty, and I want to taste life. This year, I’m going to sink my teeth in and enjoy living.
I was going through my blog and felt like even though this was more than a few years ago, it’s still applicable and sometimes, I need to remind myself that people change but some things don’t. And this isn’t one of them.
On a side note, when was I ever that eloquent? And what happened along the way? Did I lose interest in writing down my personal thoughts? When did I become so convoluted and contrived and cared more about followers and being a LOTR ONLY blog and less about myself? I’m both sad and annoyed to say the least.
Bloodstain Pattern Analysis (BPA) - Resource for Crime Writers
well you never know when this might come in handy.
I feel like this would be useful to some of you.
I can’t answer that for you. Go out and learn it.
Go into the city with a female friend. Walk 20 feet behind her and listen.
Make an account on a social site. Use a female name and photo. Post something, anything.
Go to a Take Back The Night march. Listen to the survivors speak out afterwards.
Set a timer on your phone or watch for two minutes. When the alarm goes off, another woman in the United States has been sexually assaulted.Make an account on a dating site as a woman. Check your messages.
Take a walk through a toy store. Look at which toys are “meant” for boys and which are “meant” for girls.
Hang out with six of your female friends. Statistically, one of them has been raped. The chance that her rapist served any jail time for it is 3%.
Watch a movie. Almost any movie will do. Who’s the hero? Who gets saved? Who speaks the most?
Listen to other guys insult each other when they REALLY want to put each other down. “Pussy.” “Bitch.” “Sissy.” The worst thing for a man to be is like a woman.
But most importantly, read. Read bell hooks, read Jessica Valenti, read Amanda Marcotte, read Gail Collins, read Julia Serano. Read blogs and essays. Read literature written by women. I bet they didn’t assign you much of that in high school English class.
If I had unlimited time and energy to debate with you and patiently explain Why You Should Care About Feminism and counter each of your points with all the books and articles I’ve read, believe me, I would. But I don’t.
So go out and learn.