Funny the way it is

Naturally I have Dave streaming while composing this post, he seemed to not only provide my title, but a nice calm environment in which my aggravated thoughts might not be overcrowded.

So here goes, tonight I opened up the most recent issue of Glamour magazine, planning to just peruse the fashion styles and sniff the perfume samples.  I'm usually not one to read a magazine cover to cover, I tend to be more of a pictures/quizzes/perfumes gal, but one particular article in this edition stopped me dead in my tracks.

The Secret Way People Are Judging You

(While I've got a few choice words to share on all aspects of this article, allow me to provide a brief synopsis first.)

Essentially, the author described how no matter if a woman's body type be lanky or robust, women of every size, shape, & color are judging one another.  He explained that larger women are more often associated with laziness, insecurity, compassion, carelessness, and passive-aggressive attitudes; while smaller are categorized as bitchy, superficial, over-confident, ambitious, vain, and mean.  I could easily identify with passing these judgements and having them cast upon me, but the author said that all women have these ideas so engrained in their minds that they are beginning to associate themselves with their respective stereotypes.

Now for the critic's review...

First off, the picture adjacent to the article features 2 "real-life" women, one 5'11" weighing in at 125 lbs. the other 5'10" at 202 lbs, stark naked, with eyes of hatred cast upon each other.  When you look up closely to the bodies, you'll notice why I chose to put "real-life" in captions.  These women, both of them, show NO blemishes, NO cellulite, NO uneven skin tones, nada.  Well, thank God it's just our weight women are judged for.  Thanks, Glamour, for clearing that up with advice to...

"Hit pause next time you find yourself sizing someone up."

Really?  You're telling me in a magazine full of outrageously priced clothing, picture perfect make-up, diet plans, and fantasy sexual experiences a woman is supposed to take away the idea to stop sizing people up?  To stop sizing herself up?  

Ah... therein lies the marketing ploy.

For, how can companies like Glamour make money on their endeavors if they don't also play devil's advocate?  So, while on one hand they are advocating the truth, in order to make money they must also reinforce what they supposedly are standing against.

But really, who am I kidding?  I'm just as guilty as anyone else.  Hell I can't go 25 minutes without looking in the mirror, coming up with some part of me that falls short of what I wish it were.  Just the fact that I opened the magazine in the first place proves I was looking for some form of self-improvement or justification for one of my petty, frivolous habits.  This being said, I sincerely apologize if my thoughts have offended any avid Glamour readers out there, but I cannot apologize if this has made you think any differently of how you will perceive the articles you ravenously devour in search of some sort of peace.

He's got the world on a string.

I'm all for the empowerment of the strong woman, but does any one else notice as often as I do how often the rug of confidence is ripped out from under her feet?  Perhaps it's just me, but many of these pitfalls happen when a guy flips the switch.  He makes one decision he might not even pre-meditate --  with just about as much afterthought, turning a girl's
(maybe not even his girl's)
world upside down.

We've all been there before, where it feels like just when you think you've really got something, that it's really gonna happen, that you're finally gonna get your way and WAABAM negative, ghost-rider.  

Sometimes though it's just the idea of something that could be...met a nice guy tonight, should I friend him on Facebook?  Some thoughts to ponder..

will he think I'm creepy?
am I going to piss of his girlfriend?
do I have anything potentially socially scarring on my profile?

Do you think a guy has these thoughts before he adds us? No. And newsflash, he doesn't think twice about accepting our request either.  I know I'm not the only one who has been the recipient of this friend approval and felt my heart skip a beat, then kept the chat window open while I peruse Facebook just to see if he comes online.  ....This is starting to sound a little 7th grade for my taste.

Then it's the school-girl crush, although I'm not sure why they bear this nick name because I don't think there's any era of women who don't have them.  You see him in the hallway and the butterflies take off.  He asks you to hang out and you're all smiles.  His friends say he mentioned you and you're looking at engagement rings.  But I'm starting to realize ...
(at a pathetically slow rate, I know)
that guys' minds move about 234 mph slower than girls', and that sometimes ...
(while we'd love to think differently while we vent to the bottom of the Phish Food pint) ...
they really truly don't realize that they hold our hearts, our emotions, our happiness, in the palms of their hands.

So why do we do it?  Why have women always been (correctly) typecast as creatures willing to be at the disposal of men, that will never fail to blame themselves when it doesn't work out?  You know it's true, men too!  I dare say the men who do have this figured out even take advantage to avoid any post-relationship drama.

Just to disclaim, I don't want you to take these "boys stink" posts to heart and cast me as some sort of raging feminist, because trust me, I took a class in feminism this past semester and I'm on the opposite end of that spectrum.  But, I just wanted to delve into the depressing reality that has swarmed over me recently.  The reality that sometimes the boys just need to grow up, sometimes the girls just need to move on, and if you want to ever have the chance to be content with your relationship status, you've got to have your own string.

Beware of the Plastics

I'm about sick and tired of fake.  I'm over wealthy.  I've heard enough about losing weight.  The sun is shining on my face, I just took my dog for his first ever jog, and I've got Better than Sex cake cooling in the fridge.  Where are these thoughts coming from?  More like where aren't these thoughts coming from.

So the Bachelorette started Monday, and while I am a fan of the Bachelor series and its signature spin off, I gotta admit the show kinda makes me sick.  A bunch of guys/girls getting shmammered in designer couture, talking smack, and all hooking up with the same person.  Now, while the only difference between this and college is that these people are getting paid...that's besides the point.  Emily is this season's Bachelorette and for a little background she's a single mom, her fiancee died in a tragic plane crash, and she broke the heart of last seasons bachelor after he proposed to her on national television.  Now, she has the hearts of 20-something men in the palm of her hand as we watch these "random" romances begin.

If that weren't enough, when they first interviewed Emily at the start of the season opener, I couldn't help but notice that she looked different.  As the show progressed I caught on to what had changed, Emily is no longer capable of closing her mouth, frowning, or wearing anything below a DD cup.

Since Monday I have been ultra-sensitive to the ever plastic world around me.  & the sad thing is, it's unescapable!

On Pinterest I can't scroll twice without seeing at least 3 sets of 6 pack abs.
Every other commercial on ABC Family is montage to 50 porcelain faced Proactiv users.
The Victoria's Secret fashion holds the standing record for crash diet instigators.
Today, while searching for workout gear at TJ Maxx I couldn't find a single sports bra without pads.

Pause, Rewind.  Yes that's correct folks, now you have the luxury of keeping your perfectly rounded, equally sized breasts even at the gym.  Now, I know I'm among the few young women who aren't really into the push up style, but have you any idea how nearly impossible it is to find a bra without padding?  Snowballing off of that, now half of the swim suit selection boasts 2X your usual cup size.

Why? Where are the real, simple girls? Where are the men who aren't looking for a VS Angel? And while you're at it, where are the regular sports bras?

Goin' Dutch

You may have heard through the hole in the dike, that next semester I along with my dear friend Emily will be studying abroad in Holland, land of the Dutch.  & while I pinky promise there will be a plethora of posts on our travels, this is not one of them.

You don't have to be very close to me to know that I am about as close to the definition of quirky as one can get.  I tend to have thoughts, habits, and preferences that can sometimes be just outside the lines.  One of these strange fascinations that was recently brought back to my attention is my fascination with the Amish.

I don't have the slightest clue why I am so perplexed at their tradition, but for as long as I can remember, my favorite part of any trip to Michigan has been the 20 minute jaunt through Amish country.  

We've all heard tidbits about the seemingly unfathomable values (compared to our Western society) they uphold...

no electricity

no indoor plumbing

conservative dress

facial hair

simplistic living

... & not many people would CHOOSE this life for themselves if they really truly knew what else was out there.  While I probably fall into this category myself, I am teeming with curiosity about what a day in the life of an Amish young woman looks like.

Have you ever heard of those "Amish Experiences"?

You know, where you can road trip up to Lancaster County and live on a real-life Amish farm for the weekend to get a taste of how good you have it?  Well, tonight I spent over an hour Googling such adventures and I have my heart set on setting foot in Amish territory this summer.

The only problem is, I really have no clue where to start searching, and I can't really tell the difference between a scam and a real talk Amish settlement.  But, I'm determined to do it, whether it means venturing out to Pennsylvania or taking a day trip to Shipshewana.  One way or another, Goin' Pennsylvania Dutch is the newest addition to my summer bucket list.

P.S. If you got the metaphor in the first paragraph in this post, 5 gold stars ;)  You might be right up there with me on the quirkometer.

C's get degrees?

If you didn't know, I am officially a junior at Butler University.  My major has changed this past year to Spanish, from Communication Sciences and Disorders.  It's a long story.

Anyway...

Many students (it seems) go to Butler for the pharmacy program.  Because who wouldn't want to be a pharmacist, right?  And among my peers who are studying pharmacy I have gathered that it's pretty difficult work.  I gotta give it to 'em because I know for a fact I couldn't do it.

However, from them I have also learned that not only is getting a 4.0 GPA nearly impossible, it's not necessarily even striven for.  Hence the title of this post:

C's Get Degrees.

The first time I heard this catchy phrase I immediately told mom,

"Hey, why didn't I realize before that grades don't matter in college as long as you end up with a diploma?!"

I won't even delve into her response to save a few quarters from the swear jar...but suffice it to say this actually isn't the case for the average college student.  While different programs hold different levels of difficulty, if you're like me and are a part of the general "Liberal Arts" crowd, your grades definitely do matter.

Which SUCKS.

You know, for as hard as I tried in high school, and as much as I do try now, I'm over it.  I'm not trying to be the CEO of a company, cure cancer, or make a million dollars.  I want to do something that's going to make a difference, without having to worry about working my way to the top first.  I want to learn how to live simply, to earn what I have, and to start from nothing. 

I'm not saying I'm giving up on learning, or trying, but why does it have to be so darn competitive?  Why do so many people care so much about money; making it, spending it, wasting it?

I took 18 credits this semester, had a job, did the sorority life, and had the most stressful 16 weeks ever of my life.  

And you know what?

I'm proud of my 3.7 GPA.

I know I could have given up every square inch of my life to slaving away at the library and probably done better.  But, I also know myself enough to know that my sanity depends on an noncompetitive atmosphere, and I don't care that I'm not going to be the top of my class.

There's more to life than all A's.

There's more to college than a 4.0.

&

There's more people with college degrees that probably got C's, and I have a feeling they're doing just fine.

Don't Hold too Tight

So, I read an interesting link tonight which listed 50 questions that were meant to free your mind.  Questions meant to allow our minds to wander into the realm of what if? why not? & who says?  One of the inquiries got me especially though:

Are you holding on to something that you need to let go of?

In my case I feel like a better question might be, is there ANYTHING you aren't holding onto?

I tend to be a hoarder of feelings, thoughts, and negative energy.  Don't get me wrong, I have gotten much better at seeing the silver lining.  But unfortunately I'm one of those people who frequently sees the bad in things.  That being said, this past semester has held some major tribulations with a delicately hidden silver lining.  Some experiences that instantly came to mind when I read this question.

Relationships.

Aren't easy.

Trust me, I may have not had many...but I definitely have the scar tissue to prove I've played my hand in the Love Game.  I'll spare you the messy details and suffice it to say that I've grown into someone I never could have been without the pain in my past.  The thing is-- I can't let it go.

I've probably heard the phrase, 

"Let go and let God"

about 45,908,345 times this year.  But let me tell you something honey,

easier said than done.

How is it fair, that after the ringer I was put through, that it should just all go away?  All the pain and struggle and heartbreak.  The immature, revenge seeking devil on my left shoulder has it out for anyone who might dare re-open those wounds.  But the calming, level-headed angel on my right is trying to teach me to have trust in God's plan, that everything happens for a reason, and that I shouldn't be looking for love.  That if it's meant to be it will come on its own.

Well that kinda sucks.

If you look up hopeless romantic in the dictionary, my name is listed as the first definition.  Would I get married tomorrow if the opportunity presented itself?

Hell yes I would.

Therein lies the problem... I am holding on so tightly to every mistake I've ever made in a relationship, every potential mistake I could make.  I worry constantly about pleasing others, so that maybe after everyone else is content it will be alright for me to relax and worry about myself.  But nobody's ever happy all at the same time.  And it's ludicrous for me to believe my weak hands could mend the brokenness in the lives of those I care about.  You know in a job interview when they ask you what your weaknesses are?

I care too much.

No, that's not one of those weaknesses that you try to make sound like a positive.  I don't have any care leftover for myself, so I really do suffer.  My sleep suffers when my mind races about encounters from my day.  My grades suffer when I'm more concerned with spending time with my friends.  My anxiety suffers when I don't receive the same level of concern in return.

Perhaps if I could just let go of the pain in my past, let go of my irrational hopes for happily ever after, and let go of my need to please everyone, I could tighten the reigns on the things that really matter.

I could grab ahold of myself, and tackle the problems I actually have the power to fix.