How to Not Be a Dick

I am one of those people who can always see the other side of arguments and disagreements, so sometimes, for that reason, it's hard for me to stand my ground when I find myself in the middle of one. Because really, who is to say who's right and who's not when so much of it is often circumstantial? Most of the time it's because one person believes or feels one thing that the other person doesn't, and vice-versa, and it's really just a clashing of personal beliefs and preferences that's causing the problem, not what someone actually did or didn't do.

Because of that fact, I try really hard to step outside myself and see the other person's side. When I feel as though someone has hurt or offended me, I try to look at the situation from their point of view, and understand why they might NOT think that they'd done anything wrong. Some people say that this is me making excuses for other people. Maybe it is, and certainly, if a certain person has continually offended and hurt me even after I've made it clear that they're making me feel that way, it is an issue. But the issue never becomes about them at that point; it becomes about me. Clearly, that person has proven that they are they way that they are, and they're not willing to change, even to salvage our relationship. So, at that point, it's my choice. I can either understand that and I can accept who they are, flaws and all, or if I can't, or I am going to continue to feel hurt or attacked, then it's up to me to walk away from the situation.

This is how I think about things. It's not always easy to put my way of thinking into practice, but it's still what I truly believe.

That being said, there are still certain circumstances where basic manners, and basic human fucking decency come into play, and as of late, I've experienced a severe lack of both so many times that I had to write this blog about it so I could get it all off of my chest and move on with my life. After all, I do believe that the world is a beautiful place, and that people are, inherently, good... but for the love, if we could all just step outside ourselves for just one freaking moment each day, it would make the world a better place. It would also help me to stop cussing like a sailor, because rude, inconsiderate people make me angry, and when I'm angry, I swear. A lot.

Below are some examples of things you can do to help avoid being awarded the title of                              "Dickhead of the Year":

• When someone is walking into a building behind you, hold the door open for them. It's not that difficult. Just take a second to notice if someone is behind you instead of letting the door close in their face.
• That being said, if someone does hold open the door for you, say 'Thank You'. Don't be a dick. They took a second out of their day to be polite, and so should you. 
• Actually, just say 'Please' and 'Thank You' in general. These should be a staple of your vocabulary.
• When you're hanging up the phone with someone, and they tell you to have a great day, return the favor. Don't just say something stupid like "Yup, bye" or "Thanks, bye." Do you know how selfish that makes you sound? "Thanks for telling me to have a nice day. I don't really give a shit if you have a nice day or not, because I'm a selfish dickhead with much more important things to do and think about than anyone but... well... myself. Bye!" I get that sometimes hanging up the phone can be awkward, so if you slip here and there, totally forgivable. But there is a certain person I know who does this consistently and it drives me insane. So, I just stopped saying it to that person. I no longer care if you have a good day, sir/madame. Go to hell. Plus, now it doesn't make me angry anymore, because they don't have the opportunity to not say it back. Win, win! 
• If you're driving, and someone pauses to let you into their lane, or stops to let you turn out in front of them, give them a courtesy wave. You are not the King/Queen of the Road, and it was not my obligation to let you in. Don't be a dick. A little wave goes a long way.
• If someone experiences a death in the family, tell them you're sorry for their loss. If it's someone you're close to, ask them how they're doing. It's just common courtesy. If you're not capable of putting your own fucking problems aside for the five seconds that it takes to do that, then you need to get yourself some professional help.
• In general, just pay attention to your freaking surroundings. This one is for you, Mr. "I'm going to unload my trailer at the storage unit on a busy Saturday and when I do, I'm going to park like an asshole so that no one can get around me to exit or enter the parking lot for at least a good thirty minutes". Guess what, sir. You are not the only human being on the planet. I will give you a moment to absorb that no-doubt shocking information. Have you recovered? Good. Now, next time you want to park like an asshole, take a moment to think about all the other good people of the world that you may be inconveniencing, and then find a different place/way to park.

I think that about sums up the things that have been driving me crazy as of late. Seriously, we've gotta learn to give at least some semblance of shit about one another. It's not that hard. Just think about how you'd want to be treated, and then treat others that way. I guess some people are just natural-born assholes who want to blame everyone else for their problems and to them, I say, stay the hell away from me. I don't have time for people like you in my life. And also, go fuck yourself. Of course, I mean that with love. :)

Happiness Is...

I am absolutely swamped at work right now, and it's bleeding into my personal life, hence the lack of blog posts as of late. I've always wondered what it would be like to have a job that I didn't have to take home with me at night and on the weekends, but honestly, I think that if I did, I would miss the fast-paced nature of it all. Yeah, it can be exhausting. When it's like it is right now, with multiple new things rolling out during the busiest event weeks of the year, racing against impossible deadlines and trying to drag the fifteen people working on your initiatives across the finish line with you, it's enough to make you want to hide under your desk until it's all over. Still, there is an element of an excitement to it all; when you manage to dodge all of the inevitable curveballs and put out all the last minute fires and in the eleventh hour everything comes together, you get to step back, and smile, and marvel at everything you've accomplished against all odds. 

Unfortunately, I rarely take enough time for that step, because I'm usually off and running the next race already. 

I was thinking about that today, and it's pretty symbolic of my life in general. It's symbolic of most people's lives, truth be told. We're always looking ahead, focusing on what's next, and worrying about what we don't have, instead of living in the moment and being thankful for everything that we do have. I'm not going to wax philosophic about this, because anything I said would be something you've read in a thousand "Live Your Happiest Life Today" articles and books written by bald men and women in power suits who have found a way to have it all and will share their secrets with you for just three low payments of $19.95 (plus shipping and handling). Instead, I want to share some of the truths I've realized lately that were hard to face, but I think finally facing them is going to make me a lot stronger in the long run.

I've been in and out of talk therapy for a lot of my life, which is a fact that I'm not in any way ashamed of. Most of it was family-oriented, due to all the struggles we faced as a result of my mom's chronic illness. All of the therapists I've seen have had different approaches, but the one thread that tied them all together was their recognition of my codependency. There are many different ways to explain codependency, but the definition most applicable to me is as follows:

"It often involves placing a lower priority on one's own needs, while being excessively preoccupied with the needs of others."

Basically, my happiness has always needed to stem from the happiness of others, and their recognition of the fact that I went out of my way to make them happy/fulfill their needs. I now have a solid understanding of how this developed in my life, and recognizing this in myself was/is half of the battle. Still, I'm not sure that it's something I will ever grow out of entirely. As awful as it was/is to give that power away, it's equally as terrifying to begin to take that power back; to focus on myself, and my needs, and my happiness. I mean, after almost thirty years of ignoring what I wanted and needed (in the broad, intrinsic sense, of course) how am I supposed to magically turn it all around?

Slowly, that's how.

When I started at my job three years ago, that was the beginning. It's the first job I've held, ever, where I feel valued, and appreciated, and am doing something that I, for the most part, love.

My mom passing away was the second milestone. A lot of my guilt and stress - over not having enough time to spend with her, not having any money to give her so she could afford things she couldn't otherwise due to being disabled and having astronomical medical bills, not being able to make her better - was replaced, when she died, by a sense of sadness and loss that is much easier to process through, though certainly not any easier to feel.

The third and most recent milestone occurred when I moved into my new place at the beginning of May. And I love it here; I love the neighborhood, my neighbors are very kind, I love the way I've decorated, and the way that it's always clean when I walk in the door. But I came home the other day, and I walked in, and I looked around, and thought to myself, "Shit. This is it. It's about me now. My mom is gone. I have my own place. I have a good job. I am getting my debt under control. I still want to work on my weight and my health but... what comes after that?"

And I didn't know the answer, and in that moment, that scared the shit out of me.

I know that that's okay. I mean, no one has all the answers. I certainly continue to take positive steps each day, like making my workouts a priority, cooking healthy meals, and learning Spanish through Rosetta Stone. And there are some things I know I want someday, like the chance to travel the world, and to learn about photography, and eventually, to get married and have a family of my own. But the point of it all is, it's time now for me to figure all of that out. It's not in the future anymore. Now is the future. Which, again, is both exhilarating and terrifying. 

Perhaps the majority of my strength as of late has, ironically, come from denying myself things that are bad for me, no matter how badly I want them in the moment. As this strength inside of me grows, it is altering my relationship with food for the better (although I will always love to eat); and next to the sadness that I can't quite dislodge from my chest, I also now feel a sense of pride when I don't pick up the phone and call or text a certain person with whom I'd previously been very close, because I know I deserve better than the 'second-best' position that they put me in. It's been a long time since I've had the strength to deny myself these things, so I know that this, too, is a step in the right direction.

I don't know if I'll ever have all of the answers, and I don't know if it will ever stop being scary, but what I do know is this: I want to take back my happiness. I want to learn how to be happy because I am who I am; to love who I love, and be who I want to be, and do the things I want to do, and know that, even if I don't learn Spanish or lose weight or meet someone and fall in love and have a family of my own - even if it's just me, on my own, for the rest of my life - I'll be brave enough to find happiness in whatever life may throw my way, because instead of looking for it outside, it will be coming from within. 

Writing Prompt: 6/11/13

Writing Prompt: Write a list of five first and last names. Select one of the names and write about the character.

Hannah Black
Joseph McKenna
Isabella Fortune
Charlotte Franklin
Lincoln Montgomery
_________________________________________________________________________________

My name is Isabella Fortune.

I was born on the night of a full moon; Halloween eve, twenty-two years ago. I've come to realize, over time, that it's because of this that I am the way that I am... but I'm getting ahead of myself.

I should start at the beginning.

When I was a young child, my mother would whisper to me each night as she kissed my forehead and pulled my covers up to my chin, tucking me into bed, "Magic chose you, my darling. Magic chose you the night you were born, and you are destined for great things. Just wait, Isabella. You'll see."

And I believed her. I spent the better part of the first ten years of my life firmly rooted in the belief that something amazing was going to happen to me, someday, and wondering when 'someday' would come. I daydreamed of dragons and castles, of kings and princes, and every afternoon, on the way home from school, riding in the back of my mother's station wagon, I would stick my head out the window to feel the wind rushing against my face, just so I would be prepared for the day that I learned that I could fly.

But things changed. I never discovered a hidden talent for flight; I never met any handsome princes or kings or angry dragons; and the closest thing I ever saw to a castle was the White Castle burger joint just up the road from my house. In short, I grew up, and I became the pessimistic realist to my mother's optimistic whims of fancy. Of course my mother saw magic in me; this was the woman who picked discarded bits of glass from the neighbor's recycling bins so she could tie them together and hang them in the window and bask in the explosion of color that would occur when the sun hit it, just so. My mother saw magic in everything, and in order to balance her out, I learned, over time, to ignore it completely.

I never knew my father - he left my mother before I was born - but I imagined myself to be a lot like him; sturdy, strong, logical and dependable, all the things my mother was not. But despite the fact that she could never seem to pay the electric bill - or any bill, for that matter - on time, my mother loved me. God, did she love me, so fiercely that even to this day, when I close my eyes, I can still feel that love surrounding me; an intangible emotion made tangible by her a ferocity that both suffocated and comforted; hurt and healed.

My mother died two months before my nineteenth birthday, in a car accident that could have been avoided if only The Rusty Nail Tavern down on Clark Street had checked the ID of the twenty-year-old boy they'd over-served. Up until then, despite my learned pessimism, there had always been a small corner of my heart that still believed what my mother had told all those years ago; that magic really had chosen me... that I really was destined for something wonderful. But as I stood there watching the last of the mourners leave, their sobs muffled by handfuls of tissues while my own traitorous eyes remained dry, I realized that that last bit of light inside of me had been buried with her. 

And so, the next three years of my life passed in as uneventful of a manner as the previous few already had. I had plenty of money from my mother's life insurance policy, thanks to the fact that I'd taken over paying the bills a few years before she died, and the house had been paid off by my father before he left, a sort of "parting gift apology-slash-bribe"; my mother's words, not mine. I went to college, I got a degree in business, and I took as job as the manager of a local coffee shop. I went through the motions of life without feeling anything. It was almost as if someone had put my body on auto-pilot with me still stuck inside; I could see everything that was happening, but I couldn't feel any of it. I began to wonder if I was destined to go through life as a spectator rather than a participant, but I couldn't even muster enough energy to care about the answer. 

And then, on the night of my twenty-second birthday, as I was nursing a bottle of my favorite Moscato and watching Trick-or-Treaters scurry from house to house while the full moon swam across the sky, that all changed. 

It is there, on my doorstep that Halloween night, that the story of Isabella Fortune really begins.

Writing Prompt: 6/10/13

Okay, so I want to be super good at writing. I want to write a book, and writing, just like anything else, takes practice. So, I've decided that, every day, I will find a writing prompt and write until my brain shuts off. No pressure. Just whatever I can muster. I have no problem with sharing you, but please note that this is all original work, and therefore, my personal property, so please, no stealing. That being said, let's get this party started.

Writing Prompt:

I know it is cliche to say he smiled with his eyes but, he did smile with his eyes. Unfortunately the rest of him was saying...

I know it's cliche to say he smiled with his eyes but, he did. Smile with his eyes, that is. It was one of the things about him that had always fascinated me. Unfortunately, the rest of him was saying, "If I make it out of this alive, there will be hell to pay." I shivered at the thought, though it wasn't necessarily an unpleasant one.

"I think what Mara meant to say is that I'm currently in-between jobs while pursuing a career that's both financially as well as intrinsically rewarding," he seethed.  

"Potato, potat-oh." I waved my hand absently, while deep inside, my stomach tied itself into knots. I would never understand why I couldn't just leave well enough alone. I always had to push.

"Not exactly, darling," he said, smooth as silk, but his eyes had turned to steel. I swallowed hard and forced a carefree smile.

"I'm just saying, darling, that I worry about you, and I want to help you through this midlife crisis in whatever way that I can." Take that, asshole.

He opened his mouth to respond but my sister, forever the peacemaker, beat him to it.

"Mara, there's nothing wrong with taking some time off of work to find yourself," she chided lightly. "In fact, Hunter, I find it quite admirable. I mean, I love my job, but there have always been other dreams I wished I'd had the courage to pursue."

"Courage is a myth, Ana," Hunter said to my sister, pausing to take a sip of his scotch, and I rolled my eyes. "It's about balancing patience and sacrifice with living in the moment, which is something the younger generations never quite learned how to handle," he said, inclining his head slightly towards me. I crossed my arms, fuming, while they shared a laugh at my expense. 

"Yeah, well, I'll remember that when you guys are buying canes and living in nursing homes and I'm still completely independent. And wealthy. From all the money I earned working my ass off at my job." I hated the fact that I'd let him turn me into a petulant child, but I couldn't seem to stop myself.

Hunter chuckled, which only served to infuriate me even more. "Mara, love, ten years is hardly that big of an age difference. I have a feeling you won't be too far behind."

Blessedly, Ana's phone chose that moment to ring. She glanced down at it and frowned. "Shit, it's my boss. I have to take this. Will you excuse me for a moment?"

Hunter stood as my sister grabbed her phone and quickly disappeared in the direction of the lobby. When he was seated once again, I turned my best glare on him, and he sighed. 

"Mara, why do you insist on making this so difficult?"

"Me?" I yelped incredulously. "We're supposed to get married and you quit your job, which was the only reason we were getting married in the first place... and on top of it, you tell my sister about it before you tell me?" My voice was shrill, and people were beginning to stare, but I didn't care; I was too angry. 

Hunter was quiet for a moment, silently appraising me, his jaw clenched tight. His eyes traveled slowly across my face and, briefly, I found myself wondering what it was that he was seeing. Were my eyes too far apart? My nose too upturned? Could he see the tiny scar just above my eyebrow from the time I'd slammed my head into the corner of the bathroom mirror? 

Did he - could he - find me beautiful? 

He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated instead; his gaze moved to the glass in his hand and he swirled the amber-colored liquid slowly for a moment. I watched, tense, trying to anticipate his next move, waiting for him to pounce.

But he didn't.

"Have I ever let you down before?" he asked, so quietly that I wasn't sure, at first, that I'd heard him, and  when I realized what he'd said, my anger vanished. I sagged against the back of my chair, defeated.

"No," I said, sighing softly. "No, Hunter, you haven't."

"I am a man of my word," he continued. "I said I would take care of you, and I will. I know you could never love me, and I would never ask that of you. What I do ask for, however, is your respect, which is something I feel I have earned." 

"You have," I responded quietly. I looked up at him, and when our eyes met, I knew I couldn't leave it at that. Not anymore. Not when it was the only thing I wanted. With courage I didn't realize I even possessed, I continued. "But that's just the thing. You always say that I could never love you, but..."

"I am so sorry about that," Ana said as she sat back down at the table. I hadn't even seen her coming. Hunter had that effect on me; his presence tended to block out the rest of the world. Ana noticed the awkward silence as the words I hadn't been able to say burned in the back of my throat. I took a sip of water and snuck a glance at Hunter, who was staring at me so intently that it made me feel like I was the only person, besides him, who existed in the entirety of the universe.

Ana looked back and forth between us slowly. "Um, I'm so sorry. Did I interrupt something?"

I wanted to tell her that she hadn't, but I had come so close to telling Hunter the truth, and I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, all the things I'd been hiding for so long would come tumbling out and embarrass us both. It was Hunter who finally broke the silence.

"I do believe," he said quietly, "that your sister was about to tell me that she's in love with me."

It was now or never. I took a deep breath, knowing the the next words out of my mouth were going to cause one hell of a shitstorm. 

I didn't care.

"I do believe," I said, "that you are correct."