March 27. 2009

...changed my life.

It wasn't particularly different or amazing or eventful. Work. Study. Unnecessary reality show. But as I went to bed that night, I realized I was different. It is weird to even describe how I knew, but I knew. Mainly because I physically and emotionally felt changed. My life has been a bit off for me the past three years. And at the end of that day, I felt that I was coming back to being me...the real me.

It began with a Mistake, shifted with a Marine and ended with a Matchmaker.

Like a mother in gestation, I could feel something inside me changing for quite some time. I did not know when the feeling of change would end, but that night it did.

I have not reached my end goal yet, but I at least know what I want my end goal to be. It has been a hazy road for a while.

I begin by getting rid of all of my toxic relationships. This is a good beginning I think. I also am trying to be more of a lady and less like a dude. The later will definitely be the bigger challenge for me I am sure.

Regardless, this is progress.

And it feels great.

The Tale of the Junk Box and a List

Most people have a junk box. A box full of stuff that they do not know what to do with. Do you throw it away? Do you save it? Why in the world did you feel the need to hang on to it? I had many junk boxes. In fact, I had five. They have moved with me and multiplied over the years. All they do is take up space. They make my room look messy no matter how clean I tried to keep it.

Finally today I went through my junk boxes. It actually only took about an hour. Funny how the project seemed more daunting than that for so long. I found a lot of cool stuff that I already own and had completely forgotten about. Like a watch. That I am currently wearing, although it needs a new battery. Amongst the endless amounts of old bank account statements and paycheck stubs, I rediscovered parts of me. I also came across some pictures of me that made me realize that I am old. But that is besides the point.

I came across an old notebook. In it was various notes that did not make any sense to me now, but I am sure were extremely important at the time. Buried deep with in the book was a list. A list that I had completely forgotten about.

In my English 315 class at BYU, the grad student instructor did his best to make the class as interesting as possible. He also tried to get us to do things to get us to think outside of just the class, which I appreciated, he did this in the form of optional weekly assignments. Many of them included watching movie classics like A Streetcar Named Desire. One of the assignments was to make a list of 100 things you want to do in your lifetime. I like making lists. Mainly so I can cross things off as I complete them. So I did this assignment and then transcribed it to this little notebook.

Now, making such a list was Hollywoodified by the movie Bucket List. A buddy, cancer, dying movie starring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman, and unless you are over the age of 50 or my ex boyfriend, you won't appreciate the movie. But the idea of making a list of things you want to do before you "kick the bucket" is relative to my story.

Many things on my list were ridiculous like being a migrant worker or rafting down the Mississippi, or even whittling a lute. Many were dealing with travel like making out on the Golden Gate Bridge or doing a jig on the Great Wall of China. Many were spiritual like getting married in the temple, developing a habit of meaningful prayer. Some were personal like finishing all of my paint by numbers or learning how to knit. But most of them were dealing with my family or my future family like taking my boys to professional baseball games or reading Little Women with my girls. It was a very ambitious list.

It made me wonder if I will actually do anything on this list. I tend to be a very complacent person at times and just take the easiest route available. Will I take the time to do all of these things? Or will I say that life is too crazy and hectic and not do many of the meaningful things that are on this list? It was a bit of an unexpected wake up call. But a good one.

I don't know what the point of this post was. Nor the point to which I am getting. Maybe is to reaffirm my desire to do many of things on that list, to help me to stick to goals and dreams that I have. I dunno.

My suggestion is to go through any junk boxes or closets or whatever place to you have that you just put things to put things. It's productive, plus you never know what you may rediscover about yourself.

Writer's Block

I feel like I have so much to say. So much to express. So much to get off my chest. I feel unfulfilled...and somehow I get the feeling that if I write about it, the void will disappear.

But cannot think of anything to say. Staring at the screen provides little inspiration.

I feel like I should be eloquent, draw masterful illusions to my life. But nothing comes out. Only fragmented, incomplete thoughts scatter through my mind.

Nothing comes. Only the blank page. I wish it could be automatic. I wish the cathartic power of writing would just happen. The struggle of creation is overwhelming.

An explosion of thought is at my fingertips, but the muscles cannot move to produce the words.

Words matter. And I cannot think of any.

Social Experiment

My social independence has made me lazy. I have no motivation to be social, hence my lack of a social life. In order for me to get out and be amongst the youth, I have to put pressure on myself. Therefore, I like to volunteer to bring food and such to ward events. When I do volunteer I make myself go because I would feel guilty not fulfilling my assignment. Because really its not like there isn't going to be seven different pasta salads (one with pepperoni, really? it was gross) at the ward bbq and me not bringing mine isn't going to be the end of the world. Nonetheless I went. I even went to the "afterparty" which featured the movie Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Here are the highlights of my evening:

1. I feel like I have one friend in the ward. We both give each other a hard time so I figure that it is a basis of any solid Emily friendship. So I was being my typical lovely self and the two of us were having a nice banter when some girl interrupts and asks me, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

I reply, "No."

She quips, "Well you aren't ever going to get one if you talk to boys that way."

I wanted to punch her in the face.

2. Some kid was trying to seem impressive so he pulled out his guitar and started to play. Flocks of girls soon surrounded him. It was pretty pathetic. Especially when he started taking requests and someone asked him to play an "OG". And yes, his original pieces of work were just as fantastic as you would expect.

3. At the "afterparty", I got two girls in the corner who were clearly whispering about me. And I am not just being paranoid or sensitive. I also got this annoying girl talking about how sad it is that she has never had a Valentine her entire life. And finally a fourth girl is trying to wrestle/tickle all the boys in the room. All while I sat on the couch asking myself why I want to be social in the first place.

4. I got a kick out of the movie (all the other girls were offended by the themes of the movie). I proclaimed that I could not wait for the day that a man would sing Bless Your Beautiful Hide to me. My one friend said that he would be sure to learn the lyrics for me.

All in all I gave myself an A for effort but the evening as a whole was really awkward. Also awkward is that I have become the Sacrament Meeting rebound girl for the boys in the ward. The Sundays after a recent break up, the boys have no one else to sit next to during Sacrament Meeting. So who is the back up? Apparently, me. First time it happened, uncomfortable. Second time it happened, coincidence. Third time, pattern.

How does one relinquish that title?

Frustration Mounts

I am sorry you are going through a hard time.

I am sorry you nearly broke your back and are bed ridden.

I am sorry you cannot sleep.

I am sorry your wife will be deployed for a year.

I am sorry you have no friends.

I am sorry you cry all night long.

But....


IT IS NOT MY PROBLEM.


It pains me to be cruel, but these are consequences to the choices YOU made. I am not responsible for you anymore. You broke up with me. Of course you miss my friendship because it wasn't merely friendship. I wanted to marry you. I treated you like you were my own. You lost that privilege the moment you put a ring on someone else's finger.

You wanted this because you didn't want me. You were the one who gave it away.

So...

Don't feel betrayed that my family never wants to see you again.

Don't tell me that I am all you have right now.

Don't make me feel responsible for your happiness.

Don't expect me to drop everything to care for you.

Don't become upset at the possibility of me moving.

Don't sit and tell me that I am a true friend.

You know it is in my nature to give more than I should (remember it was a reason why you ended things to begin with). It is not appropriate for me to still be a vital role in your life. Not for you. Not for me. And especially not for her. I do not have a lot either. But I cannot go down this path any longer.

Good bye, good luck and I am no longer sorry.

Neverland

You tempt me.

I know it is a foolish thought. There was a reason I left.

Neverland.

But you tempt me.

I want to feel something again. I want to be me again.

Neverland.

I can never be completely satisfied.

Same Story, Different Day

I had a telephone conversation with him the other day. Yes the same him whom I have sworn off time and time again. The same him who I gave everything to and got very little in return. The same him whom emotional attachment and sincere feelings are forever blurred.

But it was somehow to different this time. It was very honest. Very real. Both discussing the underlying issues of our very odd and dysfunctional friendship. We both spoke with strange eloquence. Like a screenwriter had handed us our lines the day before.

Nothing changed. Nothing new was really revealed. It was just so refreshing to have an honest, open, real conversation. Especially with someone that I really truly care about (no matter how much I tell myself otherwise). I just want you to be happy in whatever you choose to have your life be, just existing is an unacceptable option. Not for you, not for me.

On a separate note, just in case you all were wondering, I still have the uncanny ability to unknowingly flirt with and unintentionally lead on those who I have no romatic interest in at all. My life needless to say is awesome.