“Common sense is like this: if there were a really dark cave, and you just wandered up to it, with like, 5 or 6 people, would you go in? If not, than you have common sense. If you’d get up in there, well…shooooooot! You better be gettin’ some. It’s common sense, fool.”
Just finished crying after laughing so hard at this definition. He’s kinda on to something, don’t you think?
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I’ve been thinking a lot about friendship, and community, and all that jazz lately. Yesterday, there was a phenomenal post about this exact topic.I’ve written about my own shifting feelings on this whole issue, but I realized I left out a huge thing that’s making me feel better about this community business. See, if there’s one thing that seems to be common with 20-somethings, it’s this general feeling of confusion regarding friendships and community and the end of traditional relationships. So, recently, after thinking a lot, I decided to take some action.
For me, my sense of community goes back a long, long time. I was raised in the church, where I was automatically surrounded by a million adults who loved me, built in playmates and companions via church youth events and a general sense of community. I loved it. And while it’s been many years since I’ve been directly involved in church, I still remember that underlying feeling of safety and love and care. The truth is that the community there hurt me. Deeply. Being a divorcee, asking the hard questions, and being a bit silly or too honest at times does not necessarily make the best impression.
But, see, it’s not just that community. I always feel a bit out of place: wondering if I made a joke that crossed a line (actually, that’s basically a given, so…) or wore the wrong thing or am not ____________ enough for said “group.” I spend time analyzing whether or not people actually enjoy me, and then acting as if I don’t care either way if they do. It’s not that I don’t have friends—I do! I have many wonderful, amazing people in my life; however, group things are weird. I never feel quite part of the group, like I’m part of that center core.
The thing I’ve learned in the past few months is that EVERYONE feels this way. Every. Single. Person. At one time or another, everyone feels out of place or unimportant, or questions themselves and their role in the group. Learning this alone was comforting in a serious way. I sometimes think that I’m the only one who feels or does or thinks certain things. But usually, if I’m brave enough to share, I find I’m not alone.
Despite my own awkwardness and general reluctance, I missed community. I missed having a group where I know I’m supported and included and loved. I missed being around people with my own ideals.
So, I started one. Yep. Just created my own community.
I thought of some girls I know who are like me—maybe they’d done church, but were disillusioned. Maybe they live with their significant other, or enjoy wine or other seemingly-illicit activities. Mostly, I looked for girls who liked to laugh. Who are not afraid to cry or talk about the real stuff that’s going on in their jobs, their relationships, their family life, their feelings and emotions. Girls who I thought I could talk to, and spent time with and enjoy.
We meet every other week, in one of our houses. We eat snacks and drink wine and talk. It’s not a Bible study or anything serious: just a bunch of girls who’ve made an intentional comittment to hang out, be real together and enjoy life. Yes, it’s new, but I have high hopes for this group.
Other ways I’ve found community? Daily emails with this gal. Reading and commenting on 20SB and seeing the responses I get. Twittering back at people who interest me. Emailing Bloggers I enjoy. Befriending the new teachers at school. In short: giving a shit about others.
I really think that last part is key. You need to care. Sure, you’ve probably read it in every dating advice column or book on making friends and whatnot. But in all honesty, it works. I think it’s worth taking the risk to put yourself out there, to form the relationships you are looking for. You can’t feel excluded in your own life, unless you let yourself.
I’m no expert at this. I’m just saying: it’s worth it to put yourself out there, to see what you can develop by putting yourself out there. As Kyla says, “It’s not perfect, it doesn’t happen all the time and it doesn’t work all the time, but sending one short & sweet e-mail a day really agrees with me so I’m sticking with it. Because being part of any community is about my actions, and kindness seems like a good place to start.”
So, go out. Take action. Be kind. Stick with it.
Filed under life with titch
This just nearly made me pee my pants. Bwah ha ha ha ha ha!
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What was good about your day today?
Filed under life with titch
This post by Chelsea (one of this week’s current obsessions) about being a woman made me think a lot. In it (seriously, though—ignore my summary and read the original—worth it!) she discusses the sort of woman she is, and the kind she wants to be. It made me think a lot about who I am, about who I’m trying to become, and at the end of the day the sort of woman I’d like to be. Sure, I have a subscription to Real Simple, a bundt cake pan, a rice cooker, and I can usually find my way out of any bad situation in the kitchen. I have a real, grown-up job, and a long-term relationship, and a cat. I can usually pay my bills (most of the time, okay?!) and I’m what most would consider an adult.
Sometimes, I still feel like a little girl. I think of all the things I want to do, the kind of woman I wish I was. I wish I was the person who looked at a breakfast menu, ignored the delicious breakfast food and went straight for the egg whites or the fruit and yogurt plate instead of the pancakes or an omelette, with potatoes or toast. I wish I was the kind of girl who popped out of bed every day at 5:30 for a run and enjoyed it. I wish I was the tiny, itty-bitty girl whose jeans were forever falling off because she’s so little.
I wish I ate big salads. I wish I was always cheerful and nice, and never grumpy or sarcastic or mean-spirited. I wish I was the first friend people called when they want to go out because they know I’m fun. I want to be that girl who goes to baseball games and can drink beer with the guys and chow down on hot dogs. I wish I was talented enough in art to sell my stuff and be respected. I wish my blog had a bigger following, and I got swag and sponsors and all of that. I wish I was the girl whose outfits were imitated and coveted.
I’m not complaining. I’ve come a long way in the self-esteem department, and for the most part, I’m a pretty happy girl, with who I am, the choices I make, the things I do and feel and am. Still, sometimes it’s fun to dream about the things I’m not, and what it’d be like if those were the things I was…
Who do you wish to be sometimes?
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It never fails that I can find things to read and obsess over. Here are a few from this week:
—Mark Bittman of the New York Times posted 101 salad ideas here. While some of them are a bit strange, most of them sound absolutely delicious. Plus, there are some good recipes on there for dressings and such. Yummy, healthy and perfect for summer when I’m so not about heating up my apartment!
—This crafty blog that has so much inspiration, I could scream. Seriously IN LOVE with it. Squee!
—I found my way to these adorable headbands via Marta and may have to order one as soon as I can pick my favorite! I love little punches of color that dress up some of my boring outfits—and since I’m a big fan of Variation on A Black Shirt, there are a lot of them.
—This blog that I found by way of her comments on another blog. Honest writing, fantastic topics and all-around goodness. She says she’s talking smack, but I don’t see it—I think she’s lovely.
—Music by this girl.
—Singing the theme song to Gilmore Girls to Andrew in my most awful, intentionally horrible, off-key voice. Yep, it’s charming! He loves it.
—My obsession with the Gilmore Girls is reaching scary levels.
—This gorgeous song that I’ve been listening to on repeat.
Tell me what you’re obsessed with. Feed my sickness!
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I ALWAYS…
—Drink coffee in the morning. A day without coffee is a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
—Listen to NPR in the morning for a bit.
—Wear skirts and dresses to work
—Have to have a little bit of snuggle time with Andrew before heading to sleep
—Check Twitter and my email first thing in the morning
I SOMETIMES…
—Take a bath when I get home at night when I want to relax
—Talk to myself in the car, either practicing lessons that I need to teach or conversations I am hoping to have
—Wish I was brave enough to move to a brand new place, just to experience life in a new way
—Think about how cool it’d be to be a rock star. Or at least play the guitar.
—Wish I was a kid again.
I NEVER…
—Throw up. Ever. Nearly 13 years.
—Watch scary movies.
—Leave the house without my cell phone
—Deal with conflict very well
—Eat spicy food
What are your always, sometimes, nevers?
*Thanks to one of the loveliest girls around, Kyla Roma, for this inspiration.
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45 — The number of minutes it took me to arrive at work this morning. Commutes suck.
1 — The number of lattes I consumed this morning.
1700 — The number of lattes I wish I’d had this morning.
2 — The number of red heels on my feet this morning.
2 — The number of feet that were going to fall off or bleed out by the end of the day.
101 — The number of 8th graders I will be battling with teaching this year.
6 — The number of periods I teach.
252 — The number of minutes I spent TALKING today. Yes, I hate the sound of my own voice.
3 — The number of students I had to tell to stop talking while I was talking today.
65 — The number of minutes it took me to commute home today.
100 — The temperature outside. Did I mention that my car’s AC is broken? Because it totally is.
1 — Number of former students that came to visit me today.
It was a good first day back. The first day is a total honeymoon, so you never can tell. My biggest issue? I wore high heels. Rookie mistake.
Filed under life with titch
Since going on summer break, I’ve had many negative sentiments directed my way from the working populus, namely “Suck it!” and other choice phrases indicating jealousy of my summer break.
Well, they can all stop now. Because I am definitely back at work. Yes, starting today I’ll have over 100 new 13-year-olds to mold, shape and torture. If you hear a whimpering sound coming from a child later, it’s likely they’ve been in my classroom. I run a tight ship, and the first two weeks are all about putting the fear into the children.
I’ve been doing this for awhile; however, I still get nervous! Last year’s class was like a sweet dream—they were great. I always worry about the little hellions I’ll be getting.
Anyways, if you think of it, send some good vibes this way.
Or a bottle of wine.
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When Andrew and I spent the day in Tahoe last week, I failed to mention one very important activity: MINIATURE GOLFING. I’d been mini golfing at this course as a kid, and had some fond memories of going there. Apparently, my memory failed to remind me of how creepy this golf course is. When you arrive, you get to pick your course, and I selected the Storybook themed course. Um, remind me to never, ever read this “storybook” to any small children before bed.
Here are some of the holes:
This hole was titled “THE NUTCRAKER.” I assume they meant “Nutcracker.”
DO NOT STARE DIRECTLY INTO THE EYES OF THE NUTCRAKER!
Aww, look, a cute little bear!
Yes, his eyes were painted like that intentionally.
This was affixed to the bear’s ummmm, bathing suit area. If bears wore bathing suits. Anyways, apparently, he wanted a landing strip?! I don’t even know what to say about this. Hey, kids! It’s totally normal that there’s a weird strip of hair there! Keep golfing!
Oh, hey troll! You totally look like you belong in a storybook!
Here, we have Jack of Jack In The Beanstalk fame. Jack has kind of a J. Lo booty, huh?! So child friendly, this mini-golf course!
Ahh, the cross-eyed Humpty Dumpty of my childhood! Just how I pictured him!
This little monkey was on another course, but I snuck a picture over the fence because it was so freaking creepy.
Yes, kids, ants are a staple of stories, and they are also LARGE ENOUGH TO EAT A SMALL CHILD.
In case you weren’t creeped out enough, the last hole includes this little exhibitionist, posed for your awkwardness!
Ladies and gentleman, my boyfriend.
This little guy bids you farewell!
Miniature golfing has never been so obscene scary inappropriate FUN!
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