10 things I wish I could say out loud

(but can't because we all have to be adults sometime, right?)

Presented in list form. The numbers are just for show and to satisfy my need for numbered lists. They do not indicate any particular order. Oh, and most of them will probably be about work.

1. When I tell you I don't like to be touched, an appropriate response would be, "Oh, sorry. My bad. I won't do it again." An inappropriate response would be what you said, which was "HAHAHA THAT'S HILARIOUS!"
2. An Americano is the EASIEST DRINK TO MAKE. Espresso shots + hot water. When you were hired, it was LITERALLY the first thing they taught you to make. So when someone asks for an Americano with milk, you should know that they don't want steamed milk instead of water. THAT'S A LATTE. YOU SHOULD KNOW ALL OF THESE SIMPLE THINGS. 
3. Thank you for halting your assumption that I'm always pissed off when I'm really just tired. It really makes my life a whole lot easier.
   
4. When we are at a four way stop, and it is my turn, you may not creep forward into the intersection, because it is my turn and you have to wait.
5. Use your words. And get rid of that attitude. When you scowl at me and hold out a container of half and half, but don't say anything, YOU ARE BEING RUDE. An appropriate way to ask for more would be "It appears we've run out of half and half. Can I have some more, please?" But that's probably my bad. I understand that when you're the consumer you can't be bothered by things like manners and stuff.
6. How is it that you have enough money to drop $600 on one dress?
7. When it is 11 o'clock at night, and you are walking down the street, that is not an appropriate time to be shouting because people are sleeping.
8. THE ENDING TO THE NIGHT CIRCUS IS NOT A COP-OUT. YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT.
9. Stop being such a toddler. The things you're getting angry about are not a big deal. Put on some perspective, please.
10. People leave you because you push them away, because you give them no other choice. Please start wearing your reality pants. 

Wow. That felt really good! Thanks for listening guys.

Feel free to use the comments to share anything you wish you could say out loud! I highly recommend it.

Don't you judge me.

As much as I wear judgy pants on this blog, I probably deserve some judging myself. But try not to judge me to harshly for the story I'm about to tell.

Last Saturday, I got off work from my awesome, part time job at Rung Boutique, aching for a beer. It had been the shittiest week I'd had in a long time. So I called my friend, we'll call her "A," and we made plans to get dinner and beer, as she'd had a long day as well.

A came over to my house, and we talked a few minutes about where we should go. After hearing her suggestions, we decided to go to a pub/bar/restaurant (Which shall remain nameless to protect the not-so-innocent!) that she had heard good things about, but which neither of us had been to before.

We ordered our beers, and perused the menu for far too long. Our poor, adorable waiter was so patient with us. A ordered a salad and I followed suit. While we waited, we chatted about work, and people who are pains in our backsides.

Finally our salads arrived, and we unwrapped our silverware. Giants must frequent said restaurant, because our forks were, indeed, giant-sized. As in, the size of my face. Literally, the size of my face.

See? I told you.The size of my face. Also, I took this photo.

It was all I could think about during our fantastic (despite pricey than expected) salads, as well as a to-die-for certain chocolate something with raspberry stuff on it.

It was halfway through dessert that I decided. I began to think of a certain former roommate of mine (You know who you are!) who obtained, through slightly shady methods a certain beer glass from the local pub. Just because she wanted it.

And there it was. I wanted the giant fork. Not to use it. Just to have it.

I may or may not still have the fork in my possession. Okay, I'll just be honest. This is just between us friends, right? It's not like this is on the internet for everyone to read.

I do still have the fork, having slipped it ever so coolly into my purse before paying the check. To be fair, A and I were nice, and left good tips. Partly because of the fork. But also because TIP YOUR SERVER YOU GUYS. AND YOUR BARISTA. But seriously, tip your barista.

I do sort of feel bad. Because, you know. God says don't steal.

BUT YOU GUYS. GIANT FORK. GIANT. FORK.

UGH. FEELS.

You all know that I'm an emotional slob. (Thanks for that, Dad.)

I may or may not have cried while watching Tangled for the first time recently. (Ask Emily for verification.)

I can go from zero to Hulk in 2.5 seconds.

And I'm not sorry. This is the way I was wired. I always have, and most likely always will feel emotions more intensely than the average bear. (Not real bears, guys. It was a random Yogi Bear reference for no reason.)

This week, my brain's emotion of choice is crippling anxiety and insecurity.

A little backstory: When I was a child, I was diagnosed with general social anxiety along with ADHD. I took medication for both until I was about 14, and they helped. A lot. I've been able to cope very well, and neither of these things have been much of a major issue.

But this anxiety and insecurity blindsided me.

We all have insecurities that lie under the surface, that we're pretty well able to ignore. This week, these insecurities are multiplied by about a thousand. And it's making me feel like a crazy person, you guys.

I know that all of the things I'm thinking and feeling are irrational and not logical. I KNOW that. But that doesn't change the fact that I still feel this way, that I still feel completely nuts.

So why am I telling all of this to the internets? I have no clue. I'm not looking for pity, don't worry. Maybe I'm looking for reassurance that I'm not crazy, that other people sometimes feel this way, too.

So, friends, if I'm a little absent for a while, it's just because I need to be a hermit for a bit. Just be patient with me.

I'm Judging You

This image came across my Tumblr dashboard several weeks ago.

Funny, right?

In this day and age, where my Facebook and Twitter are overtaken by grammar and spelling mistakes too numerous to mention, where (or so I am told) people use internet abbreviations such as "LOL" or "BTW" in high school and even college papers, most of my day is spent cringing. I was lucky enough to have a mom who ALWAYS corrected my grammar, (Thanks Mom!) and to go to schools where correct grammar and spelling were a priority for students.

At this point, I'm of the opinion that if I'm lucky enough to date a man who communicates well both verbally and in writing, using correct grammar, spelling, and punctuation, I'd be crazy not to up and marry him. A bit extreme, I know.

But I can't help being judgmental about this. I can't help judging the misspellings of basic words, the blatant run-on sentences, the lack of punctuation or capitalization.

I'm left wondering, when did correct grammar and spelling become an attractive trait, instead of the norm? Or maybe it's always been like this, and I just wasn't paying attention. Maybe we just notice it more often in this age of social media.

The thing is, I can't even be funny about this. It just makes me sad. It makes me sad that more people don't know how to communicate better, and it makes me even sadder that I judge people for it.


(No joke guys, I just sat for 5 minutes debating whether "sadder" or "more sad" was correct. And even now, I'm still not sure I got it right. Talk about irony.)

And now I'm failing as a writer. Because I have no conclusion to this blog. No lesson to learn, no moral of the story to take away.

I guess the conclusion is that I'm judging you for your poor grammar and spelling. And I'm sorry.

I Will Allure Her, And Bring Her Into The Wilderness

Therefore, behold, I will allure her, 

and bring her into the wilderness,

and speak tenderly to her.

I've been reading the first part of the book of Hosea a lot lately. A LOT. Almost every day. God is really trying to reach me, using this specific book. 

To fill you in, if you aren't familiar with the book of Hosea, it's a story. It's the story of the prophet Hosea. God told Hosea to go marry a prostitute named Gomer. Yep. A prostitute. Someone who was destined to be unfaithful to him. 

Hosea was a living illustration of Israel's relationship with God. Israel's history was a constant running away from and going back to God. Over and over Israel would turn away from God and then repent. 

This is the story of Hosea and Gomer. Gomer would leave Hosea, then he would bring her back, then she would leave again. Over and over.

I feel as though I've been like Gomer. I've been unfaithful to God. I haven't made a relationship with him a priority. I've been going to church, but it's mostly been going through the motions for me. I forget him for work, friends, etc. 

I build walls around my heart to protect myself from the hurt I'm feeling, and I shut out God in the process. I recognize that in order for God to heal me, I'll have to hurt more. And it scares me. So I run away.

Last week or so, I picked up my Bible and read the book of Hosea for the first time in a long time. And one passage really resonated with me.

Therefore, behold, I will allure her, 

and bring her into the wilderness,

and speak tenderly to her.

Hosea 2:14

The past year or more, I've been unhappy. I'm unhappy living in Branson. I'm lonely. But at the same time, God is trying desperately to reach me, to change me, to win me. 

Is this making any sense? I suppose I'm still looking for an explanation as to why I'm in Branson. I'm trying to find something I can learn from all this. I feel like I've been operating without a purpose for so long. I've been operating without God for too long.

I think this is my wilderness, this stage of life I'm in. God has led me out into the wilderness to teach me. And I'm trying desperately to listen.

My New Obsession:

Clouds.
Lately, I am OBSESSED with clouds.

I constantly find myself looking up at the sky.
I bought a new digital camera a few weeks ago,
and practically every single picture is of the sky.

To me the sky just seems like one huge painting,
like God is using a huge paintbrush and constantly
changing and creating new beauty just for us.

The sky just always looks too perfect. I love it.

Last Friday Night

I have a confession to make.

I like Katy Perry.

There, I said it.

Yes, despite my judgmental
tirade about the state of contemporary music,
I like Katy Perry.
I'm really just a big hypocrite.

It's not something I'm proud of.

But I can't help it.

Her songs are just so damn catchy.

Plus, the video for her latest single,
"Last Friday Night"
boasts a REALLY impressive celebrity cast.
Enjoy!

Directionlessness

My directionlessness is killing me.
My life is a basketball game with no basket,
A soccer game with no goal,
A race with no ending in sight.
I've lost my path through the woods.

Don't say to me,
"You could pack up and go anywhere.
Do anything.
Move to Europe.
Visit Africa or India.
On a whim."
Don't say that to me.
Because who really does that?
Who runs away from life for permanent vacation?

No one does that.
Because we all have bills to pay.
We all have to work.

My directionlessness is killing me,
sinking me into depression.

Directionlessness+friends who are far away=depression.

I need a radical change in my life.
I'm feeling so restless.
I hate the feeling you get when you know
your life is in transition.

What do I do?

Disappointment

I'm re-reading Edward Albee's Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
If you haven't read it, I seriously suggest it to you.
Or at least see the movie,
starring the late, fabulous Elizabeth Taylor.

It's a play about the games
people play when they're in relationships,
about the power struggle,
about the ways people hurt each other.

And it's making me wonder if it's worth it.
Being in a relationship,
risking your heart like that.
Going through the games, the power struggle.

Something deep inside tells me that
no love will ever be good enough.
No love other than God's love.
All will fall short and disappoint.
And I don't know if I can live with disappointment.

But at the same time,
I don't want to be alone.


I am such a walking contradiction.

Confessions

My bathroom is embarrassingly dirty.

My pantry contains peanut butter, nutella, bread, ramen, pasta, chips, and oreos.
(Fridge contents? Captain Morgan, a bottle of non-alcoholic sparkling cider,
cheese I probably need to throw out, strawberry jam, grape jelly, barbecue sauce.)

I consider myself a terrible roommate.

I hate it when a book I'm really into has a bad ending.
It's a pet peeve of mine. I tend to throw the book on the floor.
(It's kind of an uncontrollable urge.)

I hate putting away laundry, but love clean clothes.

I miss my mother.

I hope someday to have a house filled, floor to ceiling with books.

I sometimes get angry at Eve for eating from that stupid tree.

I love working at Starbucks.

I sometimes experience all of my emotions at one time.
(How, you ask? I'm a girl. That's how.)

For all my confidence and pretending that I don't care,
I really just want people to like me.