Boys Will Be Boys

The following is a conversation I overheard between two of the boys I nanny for (Garrison is 7 and Cade is 8):

Garrison:  Did you know that I have SIX [Nintendo] DS games?

Cade: Really!  I think I have SEVEN games!  Or EIGHT maybe!

Garrison:   Oh, well I have a friend that has TEN games!

Cade:  My cousin has FOURTEEN games!  But he probably won’t let you play them because he doesn’t know you.

And so the story goes:  boys love to one-up each other.  From a young age boys are inclined to prove their masculinity to their other testosterone infested friends.  Furthermore, I have found that the one-upping continues as boys grow older, although on a larger scale and slightly subtler.  While big boys may argue about who has the faster car, the prettier girlfriend or the most money, they tend to do so in a less obvious fashion, flaunting their girlfriend around in front of the guys or cruising around in their expensive foreign sports car.  No, big boys don’t waste their time with conversations such as the one you read above; they prefer to one-up by doing, showing, flaunting, etc. 

Having grown up with two sisters and no brothers, this post is of course simply based on my recent observations of the opposite sex; however, I believe I have been around enough guys and have listened to enough “guy talk” to support my claim.  Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not writing this with the intention of bashing the male species; in fact, I admire their unwavering desire and ambition to be the best.  Of course it would be nice if these efforts were geared more toward being the most gentlemanlike, the sweetest, or the most well-mannered, but maybe it's a start.  

Garrison and Cade

Is Twitter the new Facebook?

One May morning as I was routinely creeping around on Facebook and somewhat listening to the ladies of The View discuss the latest hot topics in Hollywood, my attention was snagged as Whoopi introduced the co-founders of the hot, new social network known as Twitter.  For over a year I had heard endless talk of this new form of communication and while it had sparked my interest I wasn't fascinated enough to check it out for myself.  As Evan Williams and Biz Stone joined Whoopi, Joy, Sherri, Elisabeth and Barbara on the interview couch I finished catching up on the Facebook updates I had missed during my eight hour slumber and tuned in.  As the two men explained this new trend to both the women of The View and the millions of curious women tuned in, I began to find my curiosity heightening.   Mr. Williams and Mr. Stone explained that the creator of Twitter, Jack Dorsey, found his motivation for creating this new social network simply from wanting to know what his friends were doing at all times.  As I continued intently listening to these two men plead their case I began to let my skepticism subside and opened my mind to the exciting world of Twitter.  Like Whoopi, I was extremely confused as to the overall purpose and idea behind Twitter.  But one thing was for sure, I definitely wanted to know what my friends were doing at all times, too!  Who wouldn't?

So as I finished watching The View that morning I opened my laptop to the Twitter website and created an account.  Come to find out some of my friends were already on Twitter and I was able to locate them with ease.  After "following" the common folk that I actually know, I decided to branch out and began to follow Oprah, Ellen Degeneres, Brand New, Derek Jeter and Shaq.  I soon realized that I didn't really care what famous people were doing, especially those who posted new tweets every 30 minutes (cough, Shaq).  Needless to say, I stopped following Shaq; but, other than the other four friends I had on Twitter, I was limited in my following capabilities.  Luckily, a friend of mine visited from Texas a week later and informed me that he too was on Twitter!  After quickly seeking each other out on our new social network we began to spread the word and in three days we had successfully marketed to three of our friends, who I am proud to say are now part of the wonderful world of Twitter.  

As I grow more and more attached to Twitter I can't help but wonder if this is just a passing trend that will fizzle out in time as I begin to grow less and less interested in the current events of my friends.  I would like to think that as I become more experienced in tweeting, re-tweeting, following and being followed, my love for Twitter will only continue to grow; however, if I can't seem to get anymore of my friends to sign up and let me follow their every move I don't foresee my relationship with Twitter growing.  So, to all you skeptical "Facebook only" people out there, step outside the social networking box and give Twitter a chance.  After all, Twitter could very well be the new Facebook and you don't want to be out of the loop.

Oh, to be a kid again!

As I sat by the pool today reading William Young’s The Shack amidst the innocent chatter of the four kids I nanny for, I couldn’t help but envy their youth.  As they ran, splashed and enjoyed the freedom of summer, I began racking my brain for similar memories from years ago.  I remember summer days spent in a swimming pool and summer nights spent playing outside with the neighborhood kids until Mom finally called us in when the fireflies began to glow.  I remember the smell of aloe and bug spray on my pink skin, combined with the smoky, barbeque scented air.  I remember the sound of crickets as the sun set and country music playing on the radio.  I have so many fond childhood memories that are constantly being triggered by the innocent and bright-eyed faces of the four kids you see below; yet, I find myself feeling older and less youthful each and every day. 

Cade, Garrison, Abby, Grant

While at the age of 21 I still consider myself youthful to some degree, hunting Easter eggs and opening Christmas presents with all of the other cousins rather than the adults, I am constantly being bombarded with issues, concerns and problems that are in no way youthful.  How am I going to pay off my seemingly endless student loans that I will have accumulated after four years at a private college that offered me an equivalent education to that of a state school?  Or better yet, where am I going to meet a handsome young doctor to pay off those loans for me?  What do I do after college?  What sort of jobs are General Business majors even qualified for?  Did I waste $80,000 and four years of my life to be stuck in a dead end job that I may not even like?  When I was six none of these questions ever entered my mind.  I was more concerned with what my mom was cooking for dinner than about being able to afford dinner period.  Barbie and Ken’s wedding was the social event of the season and the biggest dilemma I had to face was beating the last level of Donkey Kong.  Man, how I would love to be stressed out about Donkey Kong again. 

Traditionally, we become adults at the age of 18; however, three years later, I feel no more apt to be an adult now than I did then.  After 18 years of being guided, or bossed around rather, by our parents we are thrown into the college scene only to be kicked out into the real world four years later.  All of this without one clue as to what comes next.  I remember not wanting to grow up.  I particularly remember crying myself to sleep one night when I was probably 10 years old because I was terrified of growing up.  I didn’t want to leave my family, I didn’t want to make new friends; I didn’t want to change.  Eleven years later I know why I was so scared; yet, at the same time I also see the benefits and the necessity of change.  Without such we are no different tomorrow than we are today and where is the fun in that?  Change has been an amazing benefactor for me throughout the three years of my “adult” life.  It was change that forced me out of my comfort zone when I was alone at college; it was change that led me to the people that I will always call lifelong friends; it was change that gave me the courage to be me; and it is change that will continue to mold me and guide me toward bigger and better things.

To this day the smell of bug spray and aloe, the sound of crickets at dusk, and 90’s country on the radio all trigger faint memories from my youth that only exist in the depths of my brain.  It is those memories, however, that are able to keep my spirits high and my worries minimal as I seek out the next step in my life.  Granted, I have a whole year until I will be kicked out into the real world, but the simple fact that I know it is coming is horrifying enough. 

In the New Testament Jesus said to the crowd, “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3, NIV).  Perhaps if we truly strive to possess the youthful innocence of a child we will find rest, comfort and most of all peace.  Because in the grand scheme of things my student loans don’t matter, but the lifelong friends I have accumulated do; my career won’t satisfy all my desires, but God will; and, the years I have spent worrying are not going to add any years to my life, they are simply going to hinder my experiences on this earth.  Although I cannot physically become a child again, I can seek the innocence of a child and in turn hope to discover a long lost peace that transcends all understanding.  And that is comforting.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”  -Philippians 4:7-8, NIV        

He's Just Not That Into You

While the title of this post may lead one to believe they are about to read a movie review, I have alternative plans for the purpose of this post.

"He's Just Not That Into You", a romantic comedy released in February 2009, documents the personal lives of five women and conveys their desperation to find love and their struggles after having lost love.  After seeing this movie for the second time I discovered that I had formed my own opinions about love and relationships in general, which is entirely what led me to this keyboard tonight.

After four years of dating a guy (we'll call him Faithful) in junior hight/high school that was two and a half years older than me I found myself falling for another guy (we'll call him Delusional) who, according to my parents, hung the moon.  We kissed, I cheated on Faithful, and Delusional and I started dating; all at the ripe old age of 17.  (Remember Delusional as he will most likely be referred to again in blogs to come.) 

After dating Delusional for three years only to find out he cheated on me for two of those years, I finally freed myself of a seven-year itch.  For the first time in seven years I was without a boyfriend, I was without a constant in my life, and I was happy.  I was finally free from my incessant compulsion to be with another person and as I began my new life on my own I could feel weights being lifted off my shoulders.  

Nearly two years later as I reflect on those seven years I spent burdened by the constraints of a relationship, I find that I have made little to no headway in my lacking desire to be in love again.  While some girls are sniffing out Mr. Right like bloodhounds, searching the nooks and crannies of every singles' hotline in the area, I find myself running in the opposite direction of any specimen of the opposite sex that may be the slightest bit interested in asking me my name.  This desire to avoid the opposite sex has caused somewhat of a concern for my mother who is growing evermore antsy to have grandchildren; yet, I have assured her that it won't last forever.  Surely it won't, right?

I am afraid of love.  I have been afraid of love for two years.  And once I discovered my fear of love I was then afraid of being afraid.  I have my reasons for being scared of love, as most people do for being scared of anything, but those reasons are meant for another day and time.  My fear of love leads me to question my ability to love.  While I know I am capable of loving another human being, I possess no desire to do so.  And because I do not want to love another person I refrain from putting myself in situations that may lead me to even like another person.  This must come across as odd to those out there who are in love, or at least those who think they are in love; but, I have come to terms with my lacking desire to love and therefore do not intend to let it worry me.     

While I could go on and on about the pitfalls of love and the benefits of singleness, I will save that for another day.  At this point in my life I am content and that is all that matters.  I will continue to avoid love at all costs, but it will wait for me.  Five years down the road when I least expect it I know that love will come creeping back, begging to reveal its splendor.  After much deliberation I will most likely give love the second, well third, chance that it may deserve, all the while hoping and praying that it will not mislead me again.  And if I am naive enough to put my faith in the words sung by Ewan McGregor in an elephant tower in hopes of convincing yet another leery female of the greatness of love, I will discover that "Love is a many splendid thing; love lifts us up where we belong.  All you need is love."  Until then, I will bask in my freedom and continue not to wonder if he's just not that into me; because, after all, it makes no difference if he is or not to someone who is avoiding love.  

    

Not Your Average Normal Life

Someone once told me that I was "too cool for a normal life."  That same someone also told me not to look back in several years and wish I had tried something that I didn't.  While these comments served as great motivation for my traveling dreams, it also posed the question, "What constitutes a normal life?"  Are some careers more 'normal' than others?  Are there some extracurricular activities that are labeled more 'normal' than others?  In order to break free from a normal life I realized that I must first identify a normal life.         

I would venture to say that most of the people I know live a somewhat normal life.  My parents, both teachers and coaches, get up every morning, go to school, teach and coach ignorant students all day, and then retire home to their house in the country, where they then have a host of chores and tasks to accomplish before it's time to support my younger sister at one of her numerous extracurricular activities.  Some days they may not even make it home before leaving to attend one of my sister's activities.  My parents have a normal life.  It's a busy life, but it is, for the most part, a normal life.  

I lived a normal life under the influence of my parents for 18 years.  After moving out of the house three years ago to attend college I was given the chance to break the mold of my normal life; however, until now, I was blindly unaware of the fact that a different life existed.  Now that I am aware of this reality, I am dedicated to making a life for myself that is out of the ordinary; a life that is unpredictable, yet reliable; thrilling, yet peaceful; adventurous, yet productive.  I want to break the mold.  I want to make my own life.  I want to be me.

I am a dreamer.

       

World Traveler

I am a dreamer.

I dream of traveling the world.  I am intrigued by cultures that I have not witnessed, places that I have not experienced and people that I have not met.  I want to see the world.  No, I want to experience the world.  I want to escape the bubble of my simplistic life and discover a world that I have seen only through textbooks.  I want to develop a greater appreciation for other cultures.  I want to experience places that have only existed in my dreams.  I want to meet people that are different than me.  

This dream will become a reality.  A dreamer can only dream for so long before they become restless.  I am restless.  I dream of fulfilling my dream.  Some will criticize me, some will oppose me and some will encourage me.   

I will see the world.  No, I will experience the world. 

I am a dreamer.