Friday, February 24, 2006

Time for a Cool Change

I'm not socially dysfunctional anymore. And I have friends thanks to Dan Russell and Jenelle Haas. I'm glad I'm not this person anymore.


May 13, 2004

I was born in the sign of water (Scorpio to be exact), and it's there that I feel my best.

Here I sit. Another late night with Nick at Nite. The characters on Cheers are slowly becoming my best friends. There are a lot of things missing in my life, and they're probably never what I think they are. I'll be done with my Bachelor's Degree in a little over a month, and I've had to do a lot of thinking about what I want in life. What I've decided is that I don't want to spend my life focused on a job. I want a job, and I want a job that matters. But the truth is, I've barely experienced life. The closest I get to nature is my occasional picnics by Lake Ella. I've becoming so socially dysfunctional that I don't even know if I remember how to make friends. I've made acquaintances in my classes but no real friendships. Overall, aside from getting a degree, I've accomplished very little in the last two years.

I let my classes get in the way of actually having a life and that was wrong. I don't completely blame myself. I have very little in common with most of the people I've encountered at FSU. Anyway, I'm turning over a new leaf. Dang it, I wanna go white water rafting. I wanna go hiking. I wanna have some fun! Where are the people who consider fun to be more than sitting at someone's house and drinking until you pass out. As soon as I move, this is what I'm devoting my time to. Finding people who want to do fun stuff.

They don't warn you about this in high school. They don't take you aside and say, "By the way, if choir was your life, and you don't do choir in college, you won't have a life unless you find something else...and this is how you do that." I don't want this to turn into a complaint session. I don't believe in crying over spilt milk. John Lennon said, "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." That's my favorite quote, and it's something I have so much trouble with. I tend to live in the future. I'm always so busy worrying about what's gonna happen ten years from now, I miss what I could be doing now.

I guess I'm gonna end this because I think I've lost my point. Plus, Nick at Nite is distracting. Wish me luck on my new adventures! Wish me more luck on finding them!!

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

The Trouble with Alone

I thought this was an appropriate post for Valentine's Day. I still hope for someone special, but at least now I have an awesome group of friends to share everything with.


April 7, 2004

I'm not trying to sound like one of those eHarmony commercials. (Trust me. I tried that, and it was the scariest thing I've ever been a part of.) However, when my Bridget Jones moods take over there is nothing I can do about it.

I'm not Jerry Maguire or anything. I know how to be alone. The fact is that I've been alone for twenty-three years now. I've gone on a few dates. I've had a few pseudo-relationships. Anything close to a relationship that I have ever been in has existed entirely in my head. So, yes, I know how to be alone. And I appreciate my aloneness. There are times when I think, "Ugh, I can't imagine having someone around all the time," or, "Ugh, I can't imagine having to share my bed with someone" (which is ironic considering that I never venture to the other side of the bed). I can be messy at midterms and finals and nobody is going to bitch at me. I can make my house spic and span after midterms and finals and nobody will mess it up. And as the Quirkyalone motto puts it, "I'm free and open to possibility."

But that doesn't change the fact that I want to share my life with another person. Now, there are two reactions to that. First, there are the people who either understand or are emotional saps who overly understand. However, it is the second reaction that I would like to address - the empowered loners who say, "There's no reason you can't do everything you want to do on your own." This is true. And as I mentioned before, I've been doing everything I want to do alone for twenty-three years, and I also think that when you take big steps alone you learn a lot about yourself.

I took a big step alone last year when I went to England for two months. While I was there, I was so proud of myself. The only place I really wished I had someone with me was in Ireland, and that wasn't necessarily a romantic wish. When you discover something you love as much as I loved Ireland, you want to share it with someone, which brings me back to my point. The problem is that a year later, I'm still the only one who shares my experience. There's no one to turn to and say, "Hey, remember how great the music was in Doolin, and how quiet that little country road was?" "Remember how beautiful the stars looked that night as we walked back to the hostel?" There's not even anyone to laugh at how I spilt Coke all over myself on the bus. So, a year later, I keep getting these pictures back, and they're all of scenery. Everyone thought I was weird because I didn't really want to be in my pictures, but why would I? I know what I look like. What am I going to do, put a whole bunch of pictures of me in Europe around my house and on my desktop? I have two amazing months of my life, and the people who shared it with me were thousands of miles away talking to me every night on the internet.

Now, I'm not saying you should run out and find just anyone so you can start sharing your life. That's how a bazillion bad relationships and broken marriages have started. I'm also not saying that you should pass up opportunities now. If Ireland is calling, hop on a plane and go. I would go again by myself in a heartbeat. I'm just saying that next time you feel like a sap for wanting someone to laugh at you when you sing off key in the shower, don't. Be quirkyalone, but don't be afraid to hope for quirkytogether.