Love.

Check this out! Way to go for the midwest... perhaps the rest of the country will figure it out, even with out California leading the way.

I have to say, honestly, I'm a bit surprised, but very happy! :)

No Doubt.

This weekend, one of my friends mentioned to me the she able to get $15 lawn tickets to see No Doubt. This is big, exciting news, and I almost immediately went to purchase my ticket. I have loved No Doubt since I was able to make educated music choices. Tragic Kingdom -- the whole album -- helped define my youth. I'm not kidding. Plus, Gwen Stefani is smokin' hot and used to wear a bindi on her forehead.
A thought then occurred to me... why are these tickets only $15? According to Wikipedia (which is the be all, end all source) No Doubt has not had a "mainstream" album since the 90s. Can this be true? I suppose it is, however it seems completely bizarre to me that this band, who I worshiped, is becoming obsolete. They are moving into an older generation of music. How could this possibly happen? Now, don't get me wrong -- I have always loved old music. I was raised to love old music. As a kid I never wanted to know what the top 40 songs of the moment were, I instead prided myself on knowing lyrics to bands such as The Beatles, Peter, Paul and Mary... even John Denver. It is just a bizarre feeling to know that a band who had so much influence in my life is now becoming... old? I'm not quite sure what the right word would be, but it's just a weird feeling.
None of this, however, deters my excitement! Super stoked.

Grapefruit.

I've been on this weird grapefruit kick recently -- I don't know if other people go through food phases, but I have a constant cycle of different cravings. I could love a food this week, and not even be able to look at it next week. I have serious texture issues, and if I think about anything too much, I can't eat it. I'm sure it's some type of OCD behavior... but I usually get all the nutrition I need, so I'm not too worried. Anyway, the last few weeks have been grapefruits, which are a seriously under-loved fruit. Everyone says they are too sour, however I think they are sweet, juicy and wonderful. Oblate in shape, they are like heavy, edible, slightly mal-formed softballs. They make my stomach happy, and for some unknown reason put me in a good mood. Maybe it is because I get to use the word oblate when speaking about them. I don't know.
I realize it is very strange for me to dedicate an entry to grapefruit, but it is more because I really have a love of food. Aside from the obvious nutritional needs, I see food as an entry way. A way to make to friends, to comfort others or yourself, a way to explore culture. Food can be fun, filling, and occasionally sexy. Food speaks volumes -- have you ever baked a friend cookies, or made someone a meal? Generally (unless it is yet another casserole) people are thrilled to receive food... whether it be offered in condolence, congratulations, or just because. Cooking for large groups of people is something I really miss. There is almost no better feeling than having friends and family gather, talking voraciously, drinking freely and bonding over something that I spent time preparing just for them.
I'm off to indulge in my fruit-of-the-week. You should do the same.

Compare

"You sound so much like your mother!"

These are words that I am used to hearing, especially coming from my dad. I am constantly reminded of how much I look like her, sound like her, and even sing like her. It doesn't really bother me as much as it used to, and I couldn't even explain why it would. I love my mother more than I have loved any person on the planet, and I miss her every single day. I think sometimes it is hard to know that I am a reminder to my dad, a reminder of all the things he lost when my mom died.

I heard this particular phrase from him on Saturday; We had lunch before he left town, and were discussing my aspirations for school. I expressed my frustration at having to take classes that I felt were worthless, and how I felt that regardless of the degree I held my intelligence wouldn't change. I mean this in a completely non-obnoxious way, but I am a very smart person. I think people often under estimate just exactly how smart I am (which I am thankful for most of the time, I like to fly under the radar) but occasionally I would like people to acknowledge it. He said that my mom often felt the same way, and that he thought she never actually gave herself credit for how smart she was -- another thing that I have apparently inherited.

I've decided that my earlier post about Foo Foo is all I'm really going to say on the subject -- it's a very personal one, and everything had a greater impact than I expected it would. I'll just say that I had a fantastic time hanging out with my sisters, and getting pedicures where people make really pretty little designs on my toes.

Foo

f
These last few days have been a roller coaster of emotion. As Foo Foo says "You got all the crying genes in the family". And I did. And I utilized them quite frequently over the last few days. It's what I do.
Despite my best efforts, I was not fully prepared for visiting my little sister on the base that she spent eleven weeks being turned into a Soldier, becoming "Army Strong". I was not prepared for the formations of youth in unflattering fatigues, or the Army Motto that they would loudly recite, putting themselves on the bottom of their lists. Country and Fellow Comrades win everything. I was unprepared for the deceleration that these soldiers, these sisters/daughters/brothers/mothers/lovers, would in any situation destroy their enemy. Regardless of the fact that I have known my little sister is in the military, I believe I failed to grasped what it meant. She signed a contract that she would sacrifice her life for her country... that she would follow orders of combat when necessary. Now, Foo Foo's job shouldn't put her in combat situations, but it is the thought of this person who I have known always, my sister who has been an avid pageant participator, is now capable and trained to defend herself and her brothers and sisters in the military. Wow.
Ok, before I get too depressing on the situation I will also state how immensely PROUD I am of her dedication. Completing basic training is no small feat, and the responsibility and loyalty that she is showing is amazing. Regardless of how I feel about what battles we as a country are fighting, I am proud that my little sister, and all the other brave soldier out there, are choosing to protect and serve their country, and the rights of those in the country. (I'm fairly certain I've never made such a patriotic statement...)
Alright, I'm closing out before I get too weepy again... I'll give a more detailed description of the craziness and pedicure time that I spent with my sisters when my crying genes are under control!

Foo Foo!!!

I am super, duper, schmooper excited about Friday. Why? I get to see my Foo Foo! For those of you who don't already know, Foo Foo is my little sister who recently joined the Army. Friday is her graduation from Basic, and so I will be getting to see her and spend some time with her. Because of this joyous occasion Big Sister, my Dad and Foo Foo's "friend" are coming to my place. While my townhouse is really not ready for the company, I don't care... because I get to see my Foo Foo! She has bee in Fort Jackson, SC -- which is killer because it is less than an hour and a half drive from my place! So, knowing she's right here, but not being able to see her has really sucked. Sadly, we only get Friday with her, as Saturday she is off to Texas to begin her AIT (job training). I am very proud of my little sister for what she is doing, even though I maintain that she is much too gorgeous for the military.

Survivor?

Just a warning to those who read this blog -- I am not usually so serious, nor quite so personal. If you have questions, please ask. If I can in any way lend support to someone, I would be more than happy to. I am putting this out there as my way of challenging myself to open up, to become a better writer, and to move towards my goal of writing a personal, heartfelt book.

The role of a writer is not say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say.
-Anais Nin

In life there are many moments which define who we are, who we will become. It is impossible to know just when these moments will occur, as they usually do so with little-to-no fan fare. A casual run in with a stranger may become the making of your life long partner. A simple statement, offered in truth, maybe become the breaking of a long friendship. No one is able to know or calculate just when these moments will happen, or whether or not they should be taken note of.

These thoughts have come to mind recently when trying to categorize the terms "victim" and "survivor". With the recent media coverage of the "alleged" abuse of a certain celebrity, these terms have been slung all over the place. I believe that in our lives at some point we are both of these things -- but what qualifies the difference, and how do we recognize what we are in which moments. Is it our reactions, the way in which the situation is being described, the intensity to which one is violated? At what point does one become a victim, or a survivor, and how do you know that you have gotten there? As someone who has had the misfortune of experiencing verbal, sexual and physical abuse in my life, I would not classify myself as a victim. I suppose at some point, someone did. Especially when it came the the sexual abuse -- I was much younger and it took me many years to not only stand up for myself but to come to terms with all that had happened. When it came the physical abuse, I left. I have never considered myself a victim in that situation, but others may certainly have a different point of view.

I suppose I am just trying to reconcile these two things, as they seem to have significantly different meanings. The way I see it, this is what image these two terms perpetuate:

Victim - One who has/is experiencing a negative verbal, physical or sexual relationship and responds by simply staying in the situation. The person would take little to no action to remove themselves.
(out of personal interest the random house dictionary defines victim as - a person who is deceived or cheated, as by his or her own emotions or ignorance*, by the dishonesty of others, or by some impersonal agency)

Survivor - One who has/is experiencing a negative verbal, physical or sexual relationship and responds by rectifying the situation, rising above it, and turning the negative energy created into a positive life force.
(Again -- 1. a person or thing that survives
2. a person who continues to function or prosper in spite of opposition, hardship, or setbacks ** See end of blog)


Now these are not necessarily my opinions, just how I perceive that these two categories are portrayed. In reality I think most people who experience abuse are some where in the middle. No one, no matter what it is they have overcome, can display the survivor mentality 100 percent of the time. We all have breakdowns. Even now, almost 14 years later, I am still occasionally haunted by the sexual abuse I experienced. This is in spite of years of drugs and therapy, along with the best support system anyone could ask for. I feel that I in no way define myself, my life by these acts, in fact many of you may feel uncomfortable or surprised at reading this. I've done what I can to conceal these facts from most people, however at this point there is no reason to continue to do so. In my wildest dreams, if what I have to say could help one person, I would put it all out there. This is the start of me breaking down the wall, the persona, that I have spent a long time building.

Ok, I'm getting a little off track here.

I guess what I'm saying here is that I don't think anyone, in any situation, should allow themselves to be defined by the terms or labels that people/a person/society/whomever choose to use in reference to them. While I may be "an abused/victim/survivor" that is simply one instance of an entire person. I am also "a lover", "a learner", "stubborn", "a writer", "a comic", "a friend", "a sister", "a daughter", and so on. When looking at a snap shot of someone's (possibly your own) life, it is easy to only consider only the position of victim/survivor. Remember the other beautiful and wonderful facets of yourself, or those around you. The weight put on the labels may just be the weight that is keeping you down.

* I think this is an important point -- it is easy to allow ourselves to be deceived, certainly in cases of verbal abuse -- words are only words, right? It is the ignorance that we allow ourselves, as well as the ignorance of the abuser, that makes it ok for us to stay in these relationships -- our ignorance is our rationality. *

** I find these two definitions to be unique. The first merely means you continue to live. The second qualifies as continuing to function or prosper. I felt these were notably different -- there is an enormous difference between simply being alive and actually living. **