Self-Esteem June 30, 2009

Yesterday we took the kids to the pool.  As we were getting out at the end of the day, I saw the male adult in our group talking to a group of punk kids (not punk in the spiked hair, black clothes way – in the rotten shitty kid type).  My co-worker is the big, confident, intimidating type.  I overheard him say to the kids, “Just knock it off.”  Turns out, the punk kids had been making fun of another boy who was at the pool who was extremely light complected and had dark hair (the contrast did give him an unusual appearance).  I’ve always considered my co-worker to be kind of a dumb-jock type but damn was I attracted to him when I saw him put those punks in their place.  But, I digress. 

 

My heart absolutely broke for the boy who was getting made fun of.  I can’t even describe it.  Imagining how he felt and how that would stick with him depressed me for the rest of the day.  I am a complete bleeding heart when it comes to kids getting bullied. 

 

My co-worker (not the one who intervened with the punks) and I discussed it today.  She expressed similar feelings to mine and elaborated that it was because she’d experienced it so much herself growing up.  That blew me away.  This girl is absolutely beautiful, is one of the most positive people I know, and one of the most amazing teachers I’ve ever worked with.  I wish I could BE her.  She explained that she had really big ears and really bad teeth as a child and was made fun of relentlessly for it.  It effects her still today – even though she has a lot of self-confidence now she does a lot to maintain herself out of fear of being made fun of again.

 

I was teased immensely as a child because of my weight (looking back, I wasn’t even THAT overweight as a child, I guess I was just an easy target).  I made the comment to my co-worker today that while the teasing hurt at the time, there weren’t really any long-term effects.  For the most part, I feel decent about myself.  Yeah, there are definitely things I need to work on but I know deep down that I’m a good person.  I’m not always flattering about myself when it comes to physical traits because I know for a fact that a lot of people don’t find me to be attractive but I don’t think that horribly of myself in a physical sense.  I’m not repulsed when I look at myself in the mirror or anything along those lines so I never really felt I had a serious problem.  Anyway, my co-worker challenged my theory that there weren’t really any lasting effects from the childhood teasing. 

 

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that perhaps I am still dealing with some effects.  I have always been significantly more comfortable with people older than me than people my age.  Maybe part of that is because it used to be that people my age made fun of me and on a subconscious level I still equate teasing with my peers.  I assume that people think the worst of me – which may seem contradictory to the knowing I’m a good person thing but really it’s not (at least not in my mind!)  At least one of my therapy sessions was spent on this.  I was convinced my boss thought I was doing a horrible job – that she disliked me when in fact she hadn’t actually said anything along those terms.  She hadn’t even done anything to really convey that impression either – I read into a few minor things and completely ignored the real, substantive compliments she had given me. 

 

I guess maybe I do have more baggage from my childhood than I thought.  Crap.

I guess it’s something! June 30, 2009

I haven’t weighed myself in about a month but I can tell I’ve lost a little weight!  Wanna know how I can tell?  My watch is looser!  Yeah, that’s right – the first place I “lose weight” is in my wrist and fingers.  Seriously!  Why can’t my tummy be the first place it goes?!  No guy looks at a girl and says, “Wow, she has thin wrists.  That’s hot!” 

 

Bi-side Showing Itself June 23, 2009

While I identify as bisexual, I rarely give thought to pursuing a relationship with a female.  On Fetlife they have the term “hetero-flexible.”  Maybe that’s more of what I am.  I don’t really check girls out or anything like that.  But there’s this one girl.  I met her in the spring when my preschool class went to a local horse farm for a field trip.  She’s the daughter of the farm owners and is all about the family business.  There’s nothing about her that blatantly sticks out as an attraction – like how some people have killer smiles or contagious personalities or are “hot”.  But damn, I want her.  I can’t describe the attraction, where it comes from or why exactly it’s there.  It’s strong though.  It’s somewhat sexual, but definitely not a kinky attraction.  I don’t have a gay-dar at all (I was about the only person who didn’t realize my sister was gay before she officially came out) so there’s no reason to think she even swings that way.

 

We went to the horse farm with school kids today.  She was there of course and there was more conversation than in the spring. I may see her again next year when my preschool class goes again.  Obviously nothing will ever come of it.  But I doubt I will ever forget her.  I don’t recall ever having such a distinct and strong immediate attraction to someone.

The Written Word June 20, 2009

I just got back from vacation!  I can’t even remember if I mentioned I was leaving or not.  Each year my family goes “up North” fishing for a week.   We go to the same place every year, get the same cabins every year and pretty much do the same stinking things every year.  I love it actually.  One of our traditions is to play “Phase 10″ (it’s a card game), which often takes multiple nights given that there’s usually at least 6 people playing.  We have a traveling trophy that is a fish to hang on the wall that says “Gone Fishing.”  It’s not as tacky as it sounds, I swear.  Anyway, I won!  For the third year in a row (and really, I’ve won 4 of the last 5 years…the one year I didn’t win I wasn’t able to go on the vacation).   Yeah, I rock. I know it.  /sarcasm

I’m not a huge fisherperson so I just hang out in the cabin or on the boat and read a lot.  One of the books I read this year (I usually get through at least three) was “The Guersney Literary& Potato Peel Pie Society.”  Sounds like the dumbest book ever, doesn’t it?  Our family friend brought the book for herself to read but I started it because I had already read the two books I’d brought along.  I do read a lot but I rarely read good/high quality books – you know, more literature than just a good story – classics or Oprah Book Club quality.  I read murder mysteries mostly, by people who pump out a new book every other month or so (James Patterson, J.D. Robb, Faye Kellerman, Tami Hoag, etc.) I read before bed every night – when it’s too hard to understand the old English of Jane Austen and I’m too out of it to read too much into something.

 

But, I think I need to work on pushing myself to read more literature-like books.  I have *really* enjoyed the last few higher-quality books I’ve read recently – Memoirs of  a Geisha, Kite Runner, A Thousand Splendid Suns, Ashes to Ashes, and now Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. The books I listed weren’t really difficult to read ( like classics) but I’ve read so many “literary” best sellers that were utterly boring, that I’m hesitant to try any more.  While a murder mystery may not be deep, it surely is never boring!

 

Anyway, to the Guersney story.  The book is a series of letters written amongst a group of friends in Europe & Guersney Island (I don’t think that’s what it’s official name but I don’t feel like looking it up) after the WWII Occupation.  I loved the honesty and wittiness of the characters and it made me miss the quality of the written word that hardly exists anymore.  There’s something so pure and personal in the hand-written word of the past (even in notes to friends) that just doesn’t seem to exist in e-mail, blogs, or text. 

 

We celebrated my parent’s 40th anniversary while we were on vacation.  I immensely enjoy hearing stories about their past.  One of my favorites is the one about my dad in Vietnam.  My mom wrote him every single day (they weren’t married yet, or even engaged).  He was the envy of all the guys at mail call because there was *always* something for him.  While I’m sure troops appreciate getting e-mails from their loved ones daily (and how amazing it his how often internet access is available to them!) I have little doubt a hand written note would bring at least a little more comfort.  Kind of like how a note in the snail mail would more often than not bring a bigger smile to our face than an e-mail or text.  Part of me wishes I lived in a time when written (as opposed to typed) correspondence was the norm.  It’s something so trivial yet for some unknown reason carries significance for me.

 

Another little story about my parents, Vietnam & the written word.  In my mom’s purse is my dad’s army picture.  On the back it starts out with “My dearest Lydia…”  It sounds cheesy and generic but he meant it whole-heartedly.  Everything he wrote on the back is equally as sincere and sweet.  In this digital age, items like that are becoming more and more rare.  That’s sad to me because that picture is something my mom obviously still cherishes and something I will cherish after they’re gone.  For future generations, saved e-mails and pictures with filenames of “IMG_009933862″ just won’t have the sentimental value that a handwritten note or original photograph would have. 

Submissive Fantasies June 8, 2009

I’ve mentioned before on here that when I get off I usually imagine myself in a submissive role.  That is still the case and it’s actually starting to bother me.  It’s all I can think about to get myself off.  I imagine being forced to give my dom head (which is something I immensely dislike doing most of the time).  Usually the fantasy includes either him sharing me with another guy or  his girlfriend coming home and me being discarded and being told how worthless I am. 

 

Where do these fantasies come from?  I just don’t get how that can turn me on so much and yet I crave the opposite in my real life.  It has made me wonder if that’s the kind of relationship I should pursue.  It confuses me!

Selfishness in “Unselfish” Acts June 3, 2009

A friend of mine in high school once argued that there is no such thing as a purely unselfish act.  He argued that when we do something nice for someone, it makes us feel good.  Thus, giving it a selfish component.  I wouldn’t say I completely agree with him but I do see where he’s coming from.  Think about the whole “it’s better to give than to receive” concept.  We feel good when we give someone something that they enjoy/like therefore the act of giving was completely unselfish.

 

Tomorrow a friend and a friend of a friend are going to be staying at my parents house.  I drove home tonight to be here for their visit.  They’re walking across the country to spread the word of God (I know, it’s sounds creepy to me too but they’re actually rather normal people).  The friend of a friend has his birthday tomorrow.  He’s kind of bummed that he’s going to spend his birthday in podunk Iowa.  He would much rather have had his birthday fall a few days ago when they were walking through his hometown.  So, I’m went all out and bought a bunch of birthday stuff.  I got festive plates, streamers, trick candles, other candles that spell out ‘happy birthday’, silly string, signs, and a pinata.  I want to make it special even though he’s celebrating in the middle of nowhere.  And, I got him a gift card so he’ll at least have one gift to open on his birthday.

 

But I know deep down that there is that selfish component.  I enjoy planning surprises and going all out for random stuff.  I want his birthday to be special enough for it to warrant a post on their blog.  I want to make him not so bummed that he’s not celebrating it in the city with his friends and family.  I am really excited for the surprise and it annoys me that I care so much.  The guy was really popular (not in the stuck-up jock type, he had a variety of friends in a number of different cliques) in college but never really gave me the time of day.   We have a *ton* of mutual friends and saw each other multiple times a week on campus but he rarely acknowledged me.  I really doubt it was anything personal (then again maybe it was because we have drastically different political views and both of us are fairly vocal about how we feel).  It was more like I was just a wall flower and since I didn’t really talk when he was around, he also never made an effort.  It bothers me that I’m the type of person that would go out of their way to impress someone they didn’t really like.

Blah June 1, 2009

Not a bad blah.  Just blah.  There’s nothing going on.  My life lifestyle wise has been nonexistent lately and it must not bother me because I haven’t really done much to change it. 

 

I’ve been struggling with my weight lately.  I’ve slowly gained weight this past year.  I joined Weight Watchers a couple weeks ago and did a good job the first week but haven’t done so great since then.  I eat out a lot; that’s my biggest problem.  My weight doesn’t bother me as much in regards to attracting guys as it does in regards to how it impacts my work.  I don’t play with the kids as actively as I used to.  That really bothers me. 

 

And, faith has been on my mind a lot lately.  I went to a Catholic wedding this past weekend and it made me really miss weekly mass (which is what always happens whenever I go to a Catholic service of any kind).  I want to believe so badly.  I do believe that Christianity has a lot to offer but I don’t believe in the whole Jesus being our savior and dying for our sins thing.  That’s kind of a big part of the whole package. 

 

Lately I’ve been reflecting about the path my life is taking.  I’m by no means unhappy but I used to want to do service, to serve the poor in some way.  I teach in a preschool that has only a handful of ethnic minorities and less than 10 families who receive assistance to pay for child care.  Aside from the private religious-based day care centers, mine has the most affluent clientele in town.  I want to go to Haiti.  My heart is in Haiti.  My reasoning for not volunteering there right out of college was my depression – it’s not exactly easy to get anti-depressants on a regular basis in a 3rd world country.  I don’t know if that was legitimate or just an excuse.  I just don’t know what I want to/should do.