It has been way too long since I last blogged. To say I'm busy is too cliche (because really, who isn't?). But in all honesty, I have been up to all kinds of things lately - not to mention, I have moved into a new apartment and have yet to set up my Internet!
When I was little, I used to complain to my mom all the time that I was bored. After playing bookstore by myself for hours (yes, I played bookstore with all of my Babysitter's Club books sprawled out and a book light that I used as a price scanner) and dressing my American Girls doll in a new outfit, my to-do list was complete. My mom's response to my complaining? "I don't even know what being bored is like!" And oh, how I understand the meaning of that now.
Don't get me wrong - this is a good thing. In my last job, I would finish the day on the dot at 4:30, make myself dinner, do Zumba if I felt so inclined and head to bed at a decent hour. It's nice to have free time after work to get things done, but I also felt I had plateaued mentally. Was I getting dumber? Each day was the same - predictable, fairly easy and monotonous. Without something to push me every day, I wasn't being challenged. So now that I've moved on to to my job at a big time agency, my need for a challenge has been met to the 10th degree. No more monotony. No more cooking dinner every night. And my membership to go to Zumba has been cancelled due to lack of usage. My last year has been mostly taken over by this new job.
Recently, a friend of mine who used to do PR told me how much she doesn't envy my crazy work schedule (and by crazy, I mean not taking lunches, sometimes forgetting to go to the bathroom as I'm chained to my desk, and typically working straight through the day with no breaks and very little breaths). It's a lot more fast-paced than I'd anticipated, but there are others who work even longer hours, check their BlackBerrys at night and regularly work weekends. I have to draw the line somewhere, or I'll really lose my mind. Still, my work schedule is more demanding than most of my friends'.
Call me defensive, but although my friend told me how glad she's not working a crazy job like me and is instead working somewhere with a more flexible schedule, I'd rather be in my shoes. I like this crazy train I'm on where the deadlines are fast and ever-present, the client demands increase by the day, and my brain/patience/mental stability are tested constantly.
The old adage "no pain, no gain" is true. This "boot camp" of a career path is what I need. It's a fire lit under me that has taught me to be a better worker, better communicator and better professional. Sure, do I sometimes wish to trade places with people who make more money and/or work less hours? Definitely.
But this is good for me. I need this discipline. I've only been at this job for a year, and I've grown by leaps and bounds. Who knows where I'll be in 2, 5 or 10 years from now? If it's anything like it is now, I'll still have no clue what boredom is.
While I do love my job, it doesn't mean I've given up my life outside of it (thankfully!). I'm loving my new place, which is in the old neighborhood I grew up in as a kid. Sure, this hood has more stabbings than the bubble I lived in out in the 'burbs, and my apartment complex is sandwiched between Section 8 hell and a halfway house for those fresh out of the looney bin, but it has character. And Ty literally lives down the street, so it's nice knowing he's a 30-second walk away. Plus, my commute to work is so much better!
Also, in other news, I was recently asked to be the Maid of Honor in my friend's wedding in Portland next year. Wow, what an (for lack of a better word) honor. Along with feeling flattered, I'm also apprehensive if I'll be able to live up to the expectation of being the bride's right hand woman. I'm not exactly what you'd call bridal - I don't have a Pinterest account with gobs of photos for inspiration for my big day, and I'm seriously considering eloping when I'm ready to get married. But my friend chose me for a reason, and if that means getting her the best stripper money can buy for her bachelorette party, then dammit I will rise to the occasion!
All in all, life is pretty grand. I hope to order Internet for my new place soon (it's been more than a month, after all), so maybe then I'll be more on top of blogging. Stay tuned!
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
One Year
Last week Ty and I celebrated our one year.
Holy moly!
This might not seem like a big deal to most (particularly given how the majority of my friends have gone well past that one year mark - many of them doing so in frickin' high school), but it's a huge milestone for me on many levels.
First, I've never made it to one full year without breaking up with a guy. I think I've made it about 6 months before the Honeymoon Phase starts to fade. Then I end it, regret it a day later and beg my way back into the relationship, usually stealing lines from "Dawson's Creek" (the early years, when Joey was still trying to "find herself" at 15).
Second, there was a brief moment there where I was worried about where Ty and I were going. I was questioning it all, and I figured it just meant things were on the outs.
But thankfully, things went back to good. We found a way to work it out. This is a huge step for me - as driven as I am, I'm a bit of a quitter. If things aren't going well, I want to pack my bags and head for the hills (or, rather, my side of the creek). It's not a very good trait, but I'm incredibly proud of myself for recognizing what was wrong (mostly my outlook and attitude) and fixing it! So elementary, yet such a big deal to me. I didn't quit this time, and boy, did it pay off. I've found my Pacey Witter!
It's been one crazy year - falling in love, starting a new job and now moving into a new apartment in a new neighborhood. I've had to let go of some things, make room for new things and basically just settle into this new phase in life - that time when college is even more distant in the past, yet you're not completely "settled down" and falling asleep to the sound of your ticking biological clock. It's a strange, in-between phase, the mid-20s. But so far, it's been pretty grand.
What can I say about my year with Ty? He has inspired me to be a happier person - not because my happiness relies on him, but because he looks at life and appreciates all things big and small. He's taught me that happiness is a choice - it's how you view things and not take them for granted. He enjoys every bite and sip of life, and I want to do the same!
So here we are, a year later. We've figured out the basics of how the other operates, and I feel like we've got a stellar foundation under us.
What's next?
Well, that remains to be seen. I see another year of date nights, outdoor adventures, family extravaganzas and living literally down the street from one another (I call it Living Together with Training Wheels). I am hopeful for many more years together. If they're anything like this last one, then it's a good life!
Holy moly!
This might not seem like a big deal to most (particularly given how the majority of my friends have gone well past that one year mark - many of them doing so in frickin' high school), but it's a huge milestone for me on many levels.
 |
| Our first photo taken as a couple - July 2011. |
First, I've never made it to one full year without breaking up with a guy. I think I've made it about 6 months before the Honeymoon Phase starts to fade. Then I end it, regret it a day later and beg my way back into the relationship, usually stealing lines from "Dawson's Creek" (the early years, when Joey was still trying to "find herself" at 15).
Second, there was a brief moment there where I was worried about where Ty and I were going. I was questioning it all, and I figured it just meant things were on the outs.
But thankfully, things went back to good. We found a way to work it out. This is a huge step for me - as driven as I am, I'm a bit of a quitter. If things aren't going well, I want to pack my bags and head for the hills (or, rather, my side of the creek). It's not a very good trait, but I'm incredibly proud of myself for recognizing what was wrong (mostly my outlook and attitude) and fixing it! So elementary, yet such a big deal to me. I didn't quit this time, and boy, did it pay off. I've found my Pacey Witter!
It's been one crazy year - falling in love, starting a new job and now moving into a new apartment in a new neighborhood. I've had to let go of some things, make room for new things and basically just settle into this new phase in life - that time when college is even more distant in the past, yet you're not completely "settled down" and falling asleep to the sound of your ticking biological clock. It's a strange, in-between phase, the mid-20s. But so far, it's been pretty grand.
What can I say about my year with Ty? He has inspired me to be a happier person - not because my happiness relies on him, but because he looks at life and appreciates all things big and small. He's taught me that happiness is a choice - it's how you view things and not take them for granted. He enjoys every bite and sip of life, and I want to do the same!
So here we are, a year later. We've figured out the basics of how the other operates, and I feel like we've got a stellar foundation under us.
What's next?
Well, that remains to be seen. I see another year of date nights, outdoor adventures, family extravaganzas and living literally down the street from one another (I call it Living Together with Training Wheels). I am hopeful for many more years together. If they're anything like this last one, then it's a good life!
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Obligation
Coming from a Catholic background, I am very accustomed to the feeling of guilt.
I feel guilty on the regular - guilty for watching "The Bachelorette" instead of going to the gym. Guilty for leaving work at 5:45 instead of 6:45 like so many of my colleagues. Guilty for relaxing on my weekends instead of getting every single chore done.
It's exhausting, to say the least.
Today, Ty told me to not be so hard on myself. I've been feeling a bit blue today and beating up on myself for not doing this and that. It's difficult to be pulled in so many directions. It's one of the reasons I hate making decisions and having too many choices - I loathe feeling like I'm missing out on something else I should be doing.
This whole obligation issue makes me quite the doormat at times. I can't count how many times I've done things I don't want to do, simply out of obligation. I wish I could be carefree enough to take care of myself and not worry about the aftermath, but then I just feel selfish. Where is the middle ground? When do you take care of you while also pleasing others?
I think this might just have to be an aspect of my personality that I have to deal with. I'm a people pleaser, plain and simple. It sure comes in handy when it comes to work - pleasing co-workers, pleasing the boss, pleasing clients. I'm very good at taking direction - I just hope this won't hinder me in the future by giving me the reputation as someone who will always be the "doer" and the follower, not the leader.
There's my self-reflecting rant for the day! I just did some yoga, which helped for sure. And writing this all out makes me feel loads better. Here's to another week - hopefully obligation and guilt-free.
I feel guilty on the regular - guilty for watching "The Bachelorette" instead of going to the gym. Guilty for leaving work at 5:45 instead of 6:45 like so many of my colleagues. Guilty for relaxing on my weekends instead of getting every single chore done.
It's exhausting, to say the least.
Today, Ty told me to not be so hard on myself. I've been feeling a bit blue today and beating up on myself for not doing this and that. It's difficult to be pulled in so many directions. It's one of the reasons I hate making decisions and having too many choices - I loathe feeling like I'm missing out on something else I should be doing.
This whole obligation issue makes me quite the doormat at times. I can't count how many times I've done things I don't want to do, simply out of obligation. I wish I could be carefree enough to take care of myself and not worry about the aftermath, but then I just feel selfish. Where is the middle ground? When do you take care of you while also pleasing others?
I think this might just have to be an aspect of my personality that I have to deal with. I'm a people pleaser, plain and simple. It sure comes in handy when it comes to work - pleasing co-workers, pleasing the boss, pleasing clients. I'm very good at taking direction - I just hope this won't hinder me in the future by giving me the reputation as someone who will always be the "doer" and the follower, not the leader.
There's my self-reflecting rant for the day! I just did some yoga, which helped for sure. And writing this all out makes me feel loads better. Here's to another week - hopefully obligation and guilt-free.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Perspective
Ever the complainer, I tend to moan and groan over trivial things. It's been that way since I was a kid, and I don't like that about myself. But sometimes, you just get stuck in your bubble, and small things become big things.
And then someone in your family gets stage 4 lung cancer. And then has a stroke. And then your grandma has hip surgery, goes to rehab and has to learn how to walk again at 86 years old.
Talk about putting things in perspective.
These last few weeks have been a bit tough. I was bitching about small health ailments I was experiencing, dreading my pending move to a new apartment and stressing over the pressures of work. But none of that matters in the grand scheme of things. My family is #1 to me, and if anyone is hurting or struggling, I immediately feel petty and ridiculous over sweating the small stuff.
So now, while my Grams has improved and those minor annoyances in my life have subsided, I still have a family member who will not be with us much longer. It's awful.
Thankfully, my family has so much strength. And I no longer need to stress over irrelevant things. It's the big stuff - family - that matters.
And then someone in your family gets stage 4 lung cancer. And then has a stroke. And then your grandma has hip surgery, goes to rehab and has to learn how to walk again at 86 years old.
Talk about putting things in perspective.
These last few weeks have been a bit tough. I was bitching about small health ailments I was experiencing, dreading my pending move to a new apartment and stressing over the pressures of work. But none of that matters in the grand scheme of things. My family is #1 to me, and if anyone is hurting or struggling, I immediately feel petty and ridiculous over sweating the small stuff.
So now, while my Grams has improved and those minor annoyances in my life have subsided, I still have a family member who will not be with us much longer. It's awful.
Thankfully, my family has so much strength. And I no longer need to stress over irrelevant things. It's the big stuff - family - that matters.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Honesty Is Not Always the Best Policy
I love my boyfriend dearly - quirks, idiosyncrasies, strange habits included. He's loyal, he's thoughtful, he's attentive, he's honest.
And therein lies the problem. This fool is a little too honest.
Last weekend, he and I headed to the East Bay to visit his best friend Matt and Matt's girlfriend Kim. On the drive into town, Ty says, "I know a girl who lives around here that I tried really, really hard to hook up with back in college."
Okay. Moving on.
We drive a little closer to Matt and Kim's place.
"Yeah, that girl I know - she works in a restaurant here. Her name's Kate."
All righty. Swell.
I didn't think anything of it because frankly, college was a bagillion years ago.
We got to Matt and Kim's, and they took us out for beers. The place we went to was great, and after we finished up, we decided to walk to another bar down the street. As we near the bar, what happens to be right next door to it? Yep, that's right - the restaurant Ty's little college friend works at.
"I'm going to go see if she's there and say hi," he says. Fine. Again, not stressing at this point because what are the chances this chick still works at the same restaurant? Plus, Ty is Mr. Friendly with everyone, so nothing unusual there.
But of course, while Matt, Kim and I are sitting in the bar, who walks up to us with Ty in tow? Good ol' college hook up Kate. W. T. F.
Apparently, by some miracle (misfortune?) she still works there, and instead of looking through the window, confirming employment and heading back to the bar, Ty thought it was a smart idea to go in with a welcome wagon. I guess when he told her he was hanging next door with his girlfriend and some friends, she got the grand idea to pop on over to say hi.
Not only did this chick have a lip ring, but she genuinely used the term "hyphy" in a sentence. W. T. F.
These are the types of women my boyfriend was so hung up on?!? Not like my past doesn't have its share of train wrecks, but lordy. Why did he try so hard with Hyphy?
Immediately my irritation kicked in, and I gave some serious attitude to Ty. I was not in the mood to be the "cool" girlfriend that puts on my chipper face and introduces herself, acting completely care-free. Uh uh. Nope. Not gonna do it.
Instead I went the green monster route - I gave her the cold shoulder, barely acknowledged her presence and subsequently downed 3 shots of whiskey. She didn't hang for long, but the effect of the Jameson sure did.
Needless to say, the evening was a bust. I was annoyed with Ty (albeit nicely drunk and annoyed), and I'm sure I looked like a psycho, insecure bitch to his friends. In the end, he and I talked it out and are totally fine now. I'm still trying to decipher why I reacted the way I did when I'm not at all worried about Ty liking anyone else. I'm very secure in what we have, but for some reason, seeing her struck some kind of chord.
My guess is that it was your typical not-feeling-your-best kind of weekend for me - my hair was frizzed to the max, and I had no makeup on (hey, it was the weekend and I'm lazy). So for some reason, maybe my fleeting low self-esteem got the best of me.
Ty and I finally came up with a solution so this won't happen again (and no, it's not me taming my 'fro better and slapping on more rouge) - he said he's not going to be so blunt when it comes to talking about his past. If he had said she was a college friend, I don't think I would have had the same reaction. He's got plenty of female friends, which is no biggie.
But really, sometimes it's okay to not be so honest. I know honesty is super important in every relationship, but geez - I don't need a play-by-play of every past conquest this dude has had (for the record, this blog post intentionally left out additional details shared by my too-honest-for-his-own-good boyfriend. He may like to share it all, but I have a pretty good filter).
We'll see if that does it. And if not, there's always Jameson and getting hyphy.
And therein lies the problem. This fool is a little too honest.
Last weekend, he and I headed to the East Bay to visit his best friend Matt and Matt's girlfriend Kim. On the drive into town, Ty says, "I know a girl who lives around here that I tried really, really hard to hook up with back in college."
Okay. Moving on.
We drive a little closer to Matt and Kim's place.
"Yeah, that girl I know - she works in a restaurant here. Her name's Kate."
All righty. Swell.
I didn't think anything of it because frankly, college was a bagillion years ago.
We got to Matt and Kim's, and they took us out for beers. The place we went to was great, and after we finished up, we decided to walk to another bar down the street. As we near the bar, what happens to be right next door to it? Yep, that's right - the restaurant Ty's little college friend works at.
"I'm going to go see if she's there and say hi," he says. Fine. Again, not stressing at this point because what are the chances this chick still works at the same restaurant? Plus, Ty is Mr. Friendly with everyone, so nothing unusual there.
But of course, while Matt, Kim and I are sitting in the bar, who walks up to us with Ty in tow? Good ol' college hook up Kate. W. T. F.
Apparently, by some miracle (misfortune?) she still works there, and instead of looking through the window, confirming employment and heading back to the bar, Ty thought it was a smart idea to go in with a welcome wagon. I guess when he told her he was hanging next door with his girlfriend and some friends, she got the grand idea to pop on over to say hi.
Not only did this chick have a lip ring, but she genuinely used the term "hyphy" in a sentence. W. T. F.
These are the types of women my boyfriend was so hung up on?!? Not like my past doesn't have its share of train wrecks, but lordy. Why did he try so hard with Hyphy?
Immediately my irritation kicked in, and I gave some serious attitude to Ty. I was not in the mood to be the "cool" girlfriend that puts on my chipper face and introduces herself, acting completely care-free. Uh uh. Nope. Not gonna do it.
Instead I went the green monster route - I gave her the cold shoulder, barely acknowledged her presence and subsequently downed 3 shots of whiskey. She didn't hang for long, but the effect of the Jameson sure did.
Needless to say, the evening was a bust. I was annoyed with Ty (albeit nicely drunk and annoyed), and I'm sure I looked like a psycho, insecure bitch to his friends. In the end, he and I talked it out and are totally fine now. I'm still trying to decipher why I reacted the way I did when I'm not at all worried about Ty liking anyone else. I'm very secure in what we have, but for some reason, seeing her struck some kind of chord.
My guess is that it was your typical not-feeling-your-best kind of weekend for me - my hair was frizzed to the max, and I had no makeup on (hey, it was the weekend and I'm lazy). So for some reason, maybe my fleeting low self-esteem got the best of me.
Ty and I finally came up with a solution so this won't happen again (and no, it's not me taming my 'fro better and slapping on more rouge) - he said he's not going to be so blunt when it comes to talking about his past. If he had said she was a college friend, I don't think I would have had the same reaction. He's got plenty of female friends, which is no biggie.
But really, sometimes it's okay to not be so honest. I know honesty is super important in every relationship, but geez - I don't need a play-by-play of every past conquest this dude has had (for the record, this blog post intentionally left out additional details shared by my too-honest-for-his-own-good boyfriend. He may like to share it all, but I have a pretty good filter).
We'll see if that does it. And if not, there's always Jameson and getting hyphy.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Thanks a Lot, Ted Bundy
I made the mistake last weekend of watching a movie on Ted Bundy.
I watched it with Ty on Sunday and went home that evening. It was almost 9 p.m. and I was in the middle of cleaning up yet another pile of cat vomit (Cammie likes to remind me who's boss when I spend time away from my apartment), when I heard a knock at the door.
Not expecting anyone, I was instantly on high alert. I tiptoed to my door and peeked through the peephole. It was some young guy in a plaid shirt. Still weary from watching a movie on a serial killer, I immediately assumed this guy was donning a fake cast, would guilt me into "helping" him carry something and then bludgeon me to death. Oh and then do awful things post mortem.
The logical side of me told me the chances of this were slim, but I was still completely freaked out! Living alone is sometimes not all it's cracked up to be. And the worst part? That little ass knocked on my door TWO more times! Really?!? It's almost 9 p.m., you bastard. Some of us are grandmas and like to hit the hay early.
It wasn't very grandma-like what I did after he left, though. I quickly threw together some stuff, frantically called Ty and headed back over to his house for the night. I didn't want to stay home because I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep, even though the guy was gone (and most likely one of the pesky salespeople that plague my complex often), my door has a double deadbolt and, more importantly, I'm 26 freakin' years old.
I was so relieved when I arrived at Ty's house (and happy to catch up on some "Boardwalk Empire"). I may have taken self defense in college, but there's a certain security that comes with having a guy around (I know, I know. Revoke my Feminist Card now).
It's moments like those that remind me that I don't have to resist relying on people so much. I'm always trying so hard to be Miss Independent and not feel reliant on anyone but me. Those girls that turn to their significant others always disturbed me, and I've vowed to never be that damsel in distress.
And yet, having Ty around at that time to calm my fears (rational or not) made me see that it's OK to turn to a guy sometimes. It doesn't mean I'm not independent or incapable of being alone. I just like to feel safe, and in that moment, he made me feel that way.
Pretty weird, huh?
I watched it with Ty on Sunday and went home that evening. It was almost 9 p.m. and I was in the middle of cleaning up yet another pile of cat vomit (Cammie likes to remind me who's boss when I spend time away from my apartment), when I heard a knock at the door.
Not expecting anyone, I was instantly on high alert. I tiptoed to my door and peeked through the peephole. It was some young guy in a plaid shirt. Still weary from watching a movie on a serial killer, I immediately assumed this guy was donning a fake cast, would guilt me into "helping" him carry something and then bludgeon me to death. Oh and then do awful things post mortem.
The logical side of me told me the chances of this were slim, but I was still completely freaked out! Living alone is sometimes not all it's cracked up to be. And the worst part? That little ass knocked on my door TWO more times! Really?!? It's almost 9 p.m., you bastard. Some of us are grandmas and like to hit the hay early.
It wasn't very grandma-like what I did after he left, though. I quickly threw together some stuff, frantically called Ty and headed back over to his house for the night. I didn't want to stay home because I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep, even though the guy was gone (and most likely one of the pesky salespeople that plague my complex often), my door has a double deadbolt and, more importantly, I'm 26 freakin' years old.
I was so relieved when I arrived at Ty's house (and happy to catch up on some "Boardwalk Empire"). I may have taken self defense in college, but there's a certain security that comes with having a guy around (I know, I know. Revoke my Feminist Card now).
It's moments like those that remind me that I don't have to resist relying on people so much. I'm always trying so hard to be Miss Independent and not feel reliant on anyone but me. Those girls that turn to their significant others always disturbed me, and I've vowed to never be that damsel in distress.
And yet, having Ty around at that time to calm my fears (rational or not) made me see that it's OK to turn to a guy sometimes. It doesn't mean I'm not independent or incapable of being alone. I just like to feel safe, and in that moment, he made me feel that way.
Pretty weird, huh?
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
To Compare or Not to Compare
I'm generally pretty satisfied with myself and confident in my abilities, but I know it's human nature to question yourself from time to time.
Unfortunately, I recently started to compare myself to other people, which leads to no good.
Career Comparison
There are some people who can be the first to the office and last to leave. I am not one of these people, yet seeing their willingness to continue working until the wee hours of the evening makes me start to question my work ethic. Do I work hard enough? Am I not doing enough if I'm able to leave at 5:30 or 6? Also, why do certain people hold certain titles in the office? And why are some of the office "cliques" difficult to penetrate? I don't want to compare myself to others at work - it's too exhausting, and I have a job to do. All I can really do is continue doing my best, so that's what I've resolved. You gotta stay out of office politics or you'll go crazy!
Couple Comparison
You know those insanely happy-seeming people who boast about their love constantly? Yeah, they bug me too. But part of me envies their certainty (as I blogged about before) and ability to just let go and get mushy. Now, I'm not about to start using baby voices with Ty and tweeting every sweet thing he does for me, but I do start to compare my relationship to others when I see other people pouring their hearts out. Are Ty and I not happy enough if I'm not turning into a love-sick teenager? Are we doomed because I don't constantly tell people he's "The One"? Honestly, I think every relationship is different, and people show their love in different ways. Sure, I show my feelings and wear my heart on my sleeve, but I'm not about to post the lyrics to a Jason Mraz song on Ty's Facebook wall. I show I care by telling him I appreciate him and surprising him with his favorite beer. He shows his love by steam cleaning my carpets for me when I'm out of town (seriously! Best. Gift. Ever.) and letting me rant for hours about my feminist beliefs. It's the little things that count. So I just have to always remind myself of that every time I start to question if our relationship is "good enough."
Countenance Comparison
As big as my hair is and as much as I love to eat sweets, I'm pretty secure with my looks. I've never been one to diet, wear a lot of makeup or go crazy with my wardrobe. I'm a plain jane, but a comfortable plain jane at that. That said - I naturally have moments of low self esteem, such as the other night at the Sacramento Kings game. The dancers came out, and lo and behold, one of them is an ex of Ty's. He "nonchalantly" looked through his binoculars and claimed he was "looking for his friend in the stands." Riiiight. One look at this girl, and I instantly regretted that hot dog, pretzel and jumbo-sized beer I'd downed at the beginning of the game. Not to mention, my Casper skin tone was extra apparent at that moment. Of course, Ty tells me he prefers my looks (and brain!) to anyone he's ever dated, so I know that these bouts of body insecurity are juvenile. (Side note: apparently, this girl's IQ gave Snooki's a run for her money. Yes, I know this is irrelevant since she is long gone from Ty's life, but the mean girl in me can't help but feel a little smug).
I know I'm not perfect and there's always room for improvement, but comparing myself to others is not the way to get there. I just need to stay focused on the things I can control and block out that part of my mind that starts to compare. My new motto is to just "do me." Oh, wait....that came out wrong.
Unfortunately, I recently started to compare myself to other people, which leads to no good.
Career Comparison
There are some people who can be the first to the office and last to leave. I am not one of these people, yet seeing their willingness to continue working until the wee hours of the evening makes me start to question my work ethic. Do I work hard enough? Am I not doing enough if I'm able to leave at 5:30 or 6? Also, why do certain people hold certain titles in the office? And why are some of the office "cliques" difficult to penetrate? I don't want to compare myself to others at work - it's too exhausting, and I have a job to do. All I can really do is continue doing my best, so that's what I've resolved. You gotta stay out of office politics or you'll go crazy!
Couple Comparison
You know those insanely happy-seeming people who boast about their love constantly? Yeah, they bug me too. But part of me envies their certainty (as I blogged about before) and ability to just let go and get mushy. Now, I'm not about to start using baby voices with Ty and tweeting every sweet thing he does for me, but I do start to compare my relationship to others when I see other people pouring their hearts out. Are Ty and I not happy enough if I'm not turning into a love-sick teenager? Are we doomed because I don't constantly tell people he's "The One"? Honestly, I think every relationship is different, and people show their love in different ways. Sure, I show my feelings and wear my heart on my sleeve, but I'm not about to post the lyrics to a Jason Mraz song on Ty's Facebook wall. I show I care by telling him I appreciate him and surprising him with his favorite beer. He shows his love by steam cleaning my carpets for me when I'm out of town (seriously! Best. Gift. Ever.) and letting me rant for hours about my feminist beliefs. It's the little things that count. So I just have to always remind myself of that every time I start to question if our relationship is "good enough."
Countenance Comparison
As big as my hair is and as much as I love to eat sweets, I'm pretty secure with my looks. I've never been one to diet, wear a lot of makeup or go crazy with my wardrobe. I'm a plain jane, but a comfortable plain jane at that. That said - I naturally have moments of low self esteem, such as the other night at the Sacramento Kings game. The dancers came out, and lo and behold, one of them is an ex of Ty's. He "nonchalantly" looked through his binoculars and claimed he was "looking for his friend in the stands." Riiiight. One look at this girl, and I instantly regretted that hot dog, pretzel and jumbo-sized beer I'd downed at the beginning of the game. Not to mention, my Casper skin tone was extra apparent at that moment. Of course, Ty tells me he prefers my looks (and brain!) to anyone he's ever dated, so I know that these bouts of body insecurity are juvenile. (Side note: apparently, this girl's IQ gave Snooki's a run for her money. Yes, I know this is irrelevant since she is long gone from Ty's life, but the mean girl in me can't help but feel a little smug).
I know I'm not perfect and there's always room for improvement, but comparing myself to others is not the way to get there. I just need to stay focused on the things I can control and block out that part of my mind that starts to compare. My new motto is to just "do me." Oh, wait....that came out wrong.
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