Baby, What's Your Sign?

Well yesterday I was a Capricorn. Today, I am a Sagittarius. I know two Sag's...my mom & brother. Nope, sorry, we're aren't anything alike.  I am a true Capricorn all the way.


 Now, when I was a teenager I was very into astrology. I mean, I didn't have rain dances or anything like that in my backyard, but when I found out about the traits that made up my sign, I felt like I understood myself for the first time.  It has really only been recently that I have come back to try to understand myself.

While I still identify with my Capricorn-ish traits, I know that I have developed into a different woman.  Yes, I am still ambitious and disciplined, however sometimes my practicality and prudence are thrown out the window. I realized in college that I only get to live once and I want to live it up whatever way I can! 

Patient- ha, not even close. I have never been patient. I have become more patient as I have gotten older, but even now...I am far from describing myself as a patient person. That would just be lying. Careful...hmmm, again, I've started to embrace life. You'd think as I get older I would get more cautious...I think just the opposite is happening with me though. Humorous- I certainly try to be. I love humor. I love to laugh. 

Reserved, yes I still am. I've come to the point where I am more outgoing and less shy when I first meet people, however, sometimes, if I am out with a big group and I only know one or two people, I can certainly be classified as reserved. Or if I am out with a couple friends and one has a very big, boisterous, and outgoing personality, I tend to shy away and consume myself within my own thoughts.  I fade into the background. I am still quite pessimistic. I always assume the worst is going to happen. But I have tried to change that outlook in somethings. I'm starting to believe that I have simply worked so hard these last few years on creating my "future" life that its just gotta happen!

And it's true I love history, antiques, duties and responsibilities, unconditional love, & new books. I hate, just like my sign says untidiness and disorder, surprises, loneliness, and being made to feel useless and incompetent.

Well whatever my sign is...this is who I am. And really, that's all that matters.

Dying Newspaper

As my baby brother's senior year & final wrestling season winds down, I have come face to face with the newspaper industry. At least the newspaper industry here in Western New York.  Now our local paper is no, New York Times. In fact, we live on the exact opposite end of the state. You can't get any farther in the state of New York than where I currently sit & type this to you. 

It's a local paper. Shouldn't it have mostly local stories and bylines? Why is everything from the AP wire?

The Buffalo area has many schools and in the winter there really isn't much to report on in the area. There aren't usually any outdoor festivals or concerts.  Just high school and college sports. 

This past weekend I spent two full days in a big community college gym, surrounded by hundreds of high school boys in singlets and warm up suits, smelling sweat, hearing buzzers and whistles nonstop in my ears, having my tush get numb from the bleachers.  This wrestling tournament hosts over 4o area high schools.  Its a big deal for local wrestlers to show case their talents and it helps to determine qualifiers for states and seeds at other tournaments later in the season. 

Yet, the local paper basically gave the tournament a split second glance. The write up looked as though the reporter had taken the finalists' biography from the coach and then added who ended up winning each weight class contest. 

Who or what was on the front page of the Sports section...the Seattle game. Seattle. We live in Buffalo, NY. Here Seattle, a buzz from the AP, was front and center on the sports page, with a nice run down of the NFL game. Seattle? Are you serious?

If this is what local papers are coming to- brushing off the importance of local news for things around the country that are more glamours and "seemingly" more important, then perhaps its a good thing journalists across the country are loosing their jobs at local papers. Maybe we do only need papers like the New York Times and USA Today.  Who cares about local students, local superstars, when we can talk about Matt Hasselbeck? A guy who gets paid millions for a team that is on the complete other side of the country.

And again, Nate, I'm sorry for ragging on your report. It's nothing personal. Just a statement on local journalism in general.

To Not Being Such A Girl

So one of my more private resolutions that I have for this year is about trying to act less like a girl.  I didn't share it with you, because I didn't share some of my other resolutions [like making my bed every morning, etc].  However, I told my friend Sean about the resolution and he thinks I should stay the way I am. Which is why I am now writing about it. Why I need to act less like a girl in 2011.

This is what I mean.  Girls tend to over analyze everything! We see something posted on Facebook and we call up our friends to have them help us dissect what it could possibly mean about our bf, the guy we're seeing, an ex, etc. Same goes for text messages and voice mails.  How many times have you had a friend listen to a voicemail left by a guy or forwarded a text sent by the man in question just to get another viewpoint on what must really be going on behind closed doors [aka: in his head]?!?!

I have done it way too many times to count. Way too many times to be ashamed of.  And this year, I just want to take most of what a guy says to me at face value and how I take it at first glance.  Do I see what he says as flirting and joking around with me? Yes? Ok, good, no need to get all the girls on the phone to see what their take is. They don't know him, his humor, or the humor that we share together. 

This is not to say I will not talk to my friends about the guy I am seeing. No, I'm simply referring to stop being such a girl by dissecting every word that is exchanged. 

The second part of being a girl is thinking that I need constant day-to-day communication with the guy I'm seeing. Is this really necessary? Do I really care what he is up to? I mean, to an extent yea, of course, but at the same time I don't really need to know that he is having a boring day at work.  Do I wanna hear about him remodeling his house? Sure! At least that gives me an insight into him and his personality when he talks about how he envisions the final product that he's created. 

Moreover, does he really need to hear about how I recently, seriously cleaned the crap out of my house? How I organized every surface and every piece of paper in my possession? No, not really. I'd just rather have him come over and see my final product.  I mean we aren't married here; he doesn't need to know every detail of my life and I don't need to know every detail of his.

The third part is to not stress over that guy I'm seeing. This right here is not my strong point- EVER. As my best guy friend, Nate, has pointed out over the years, I'm just not content unless I'm worrying about something. Unfortunately he is right. I don't let things just flow and run their course. Instead, I will construct a dam to stop them from happening, I will place sandbags on the river bank so there is no flood, and I will quickly, fervently dig a tributary so that things go my way. That's just the way I am. I chalk it up to being a typical Type A personality.

So this year, I'm trying to release. I'm trying not to control. I'm trying to be chill. Trying. I'm not perfect at it, but I'm putting effort into it.  I'm trying to let things go slow. For them to evolve as naturally as they can [I do put some effort into this, but for the most part I am relinquishing all my control freak tendencies].

Hopefully, after all this effort I'll get my birthday wish...

Define "Man"

"Country Man" by Luke Bryan is one of my favorite country songs. Rather than give you the lyrics, I'm just going to talk about what a "man" is. Because I think I have finally realized a definition of "man" [in contrast to "boy" or "guy"].

A man is someone who can take care of himself. Not only is he capable of taking care of himself in an independent manner, but he is more than willing to help out his friends when they are in need. He will move them across the country. He will get them out of a bad situation. He will calm them down when they are raging mad. He will give them the shirt off his back. 

A man is loyal. He will care for his lady. He will treat her like a precious stone, one that he feels he has been entrusted to care for.  He will protect her, but if she needs it, he will give her her independence.  He does not smother her.  He does stuff just to make her happy, like take out the trash without being nagged.

A man is responsible. He works. He gets paid. He provides.  He does it the best he can. He tries very hard. He doesn't bail. Ever.

A man is the one who deserves a beer sometimes after a long day or project.  A man is someone who sometimes needs to be alone to be with his thoughts, it doesn't mean he is ignoring you or mad. He just needs alone time to forget about all that he is responsible for in the world.

A real man has emotions. He isn't afraid to acknowledge that they are present in his body, even if he doesn't outwardly show on the surface.  A real man gets angry, but he forgives and lets you know everything is ok and that he's forgiven you.  A real man tells you what is on his mind. He doesn't play games with a woman.  He will tell you if he is angry (or some other emotion) at you. [Think Noah in The Notebook: "I tell you when you're being a pain in the ass."]

I think most males are capable of reaching this "man" definition.  However, I think for many of them it is just easier to stay in the "guy" zone where they can be assholes, treat many people badly, not be responsible, not understand their emotions or thoughts, and isn't willing to change yet. 

All Righty, Cupid!

My friend Dani lives and works in a big east coast city.  Working crazy long hours in the city and not really knowing many people in the area has made it difficult to meet men, let alone get to go on a date with a man.  As a way to meet men, she joined, what we like to call "the virtual bar" of online dating.  There are cute guys, weirdo, creepers, and just plain nice guys who just want to meet a sane, normal woman. 

At the virtual bar she has become acquainted with all sorts of men.  Up until recently she has had a rather pleasant experience at the bar.  Creepers were at a minimum. However, lately, she wonders whether or not the full moon is out, because the weirdness is coming out of the woodwork!

One potential noticed that she spoke another language.  He then proceeded to write her nearly a page long message in Hungarian.  While on the phone, explaining this situation to me, she exclaimed, "What if I write him a message in ancient Egyptian because I notice that he is of Egyptian decent. Here is some ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics for you honey! You're ancestors can read them, don't worry!"

At the virtual bar, the server asks you what age range you want your potential dates to fall between.  Dani's limit is 31.  She received a message from a man that started out... "I know I'm a little older than your range is..." So Dani, trying to keep an open mind, thinking she could probably date someone who was about 35. Nope. He was 52 years old. A little older?!?! Sorry, grandpa, but you should probably move your butt over to eHarmony before you dieeeeeee!

While these two are examples of amusing dating antidotes, there are also the more sinister and Jersey Shore-like offerings that are made during what appears at first to be a normal conversation.

One potential date started talking about football with her. The conversation then turned to what he thought about her looks. He thought she was really good looking...but he didn't stop there with the compliments. He then proceeded to compliment her body in detail, admitting what he liked about each tiny facet of her body...and that he'd hit that.  Had they been dating and knew each other better, maybe this could have been laughed off or even served as foreplay. However, this was the first time they were meeting.  The worse part was that he didn't understand that she wasn't being a prude about the situation, but rather was just trying to be a respected woman. 

The second potential flop was a similar scenario.  She was talking with this guy about how she liked working out, going to the gym, and doing yoga.  He too enjoyed going to the gym. Great something in common------------Screeeeccch. "So if you're into fitness, can you "fit" my d*** in your mouth?" Excuse me?!?! Are you kidding me? The worse part was he tried to apologize over and over again for it, saying sometimes he says the wrong things, but he had always wanted to use that line before.  Sorry, bud, but you aren't 16, you should be socially aware that it would be inappropriate to use that sort of "line" the first time you talk to a woman. 

So, needless to say Dani is starting to get a little frustrated.  She isn't looking to find Prince Charming today, tomorrow, or even next week...but she would like a decent, caring man to spend some of her time with.  However, after some experiences like this, Dani looks up to the sky and screams, "all righty, Cupid, where is Prince Charming?  I fold!"

The Back Up

There are stories, songs, and friends who all talk about it: Their back up.  Not their back up plan that consists of adoption, moving to a foreign country, or being an accountant.  I'm referring to their back up mate.  The person that they go back to when they are single; the one who they have made a pact with that "if we're 40 and still not married, we'll be together"; the one they refuse to let go of for fear of being truly alone in this big world forever.

I used to have this man who was my back up. Actually I had two. Insurance purposes really. The first was my high school boyfriend Kevin. We dated on and off for over a year and a half, never wanting to be alone. On unspoken terms we had decided we were the back up for each other. While we might have cared about one another, we knew we just couldn't be right for each other. Then there was Jeremy, my crush from high school, who lived in another state.  We'd chat about how we could be together one day, far, far in the future, because we did care about each other and maybe that's just how it was supposed to happen. 

I don't have a back up anymore. Kevin and I no longer speak. Jeremy and I still talk, but I have decided to take him off my list as a back up. I don't want to talk to him only when I am single and lonely. I don't want to think that maybe all these heartbreaks, tears, and rejections will led to a road that is only my second choice.  I don't want to believe that I will end up with someone, just because I don't want to be alone. That's not romantic, and it most certainly isn't even nice. 

I can tell however, that Jeremy has not taken me off his list. That I am still, in his mind, his last resort to find happiness in this crazy and unforgiving world. But he should take me off that list. I don't like knowing that the only reason he speaks to me in volumes is when he is lonely and searching for a friend to care. I do care, I just want more than to be your back up.

I want someone who picks me as their first choice. Not someone who decides that he'll take the pasta dish because they are out of the 18oz Certified Angus Beef Prime Rib.

I want to have my first choice of prime rib too, even if I do love pasta.

Burn Book

Things NOT to Say. Sometimes if you don't have anything nice to say, you shouldn't say anything at all.

Boy to Girl he is dating: "You're a communist. I think Democrats are pure evil."    Yeah, that will get you to the next date. Maybe you should have saved that comment until she got to eat her dessert.

Elections make people angry, ready to fling nasty words across the divide.  Although I am a history major, I hate talking about elections. I understand that they help to decide the path the nation takes, but I hate them. They are typically nasty.  Sometimes, particuarly, in recent elections, I have trouble seeing where the candidates stand on the issues when they are only worried about mud slinging with their opponent.  What is this, kindergarten? Boys will be boys, but this is getting to be too much!

Digging up dirt isn't my favorite either. Its like they missed out in highschool. Or they were the ones who the Burn Book dised back in the good ol' days. Now its time for them to get back...well at least they are getting "back" at someone.

How the date continued...

Boy: "You're a communist."
Girl: "No I have more socialistic ideals that I think should be worked into our government."
Boy, nonchalantly: "So you are a communist."
Girl, enraged: "Open a freaking textbook and compare the definitions! Socialist and communists are not the same thing!!!!"
Boy, pompously: "I have and they are the same thing. I think I know more about politics then you do. I educate myself and read about this stuff all the time."
Girl: "I highly doubt that. I don't even think you know how to read if that's what you think the definitions are."
Boy: "And you would know? You went to college, that's it. Every one knows that colleges are the most liberal communities in the country."
Girl: "What did all those Republicans do with their youth?! Pretty sure they went to colleges in this country. How did they make it out alive then, without being turned into evil liberal-minded individuals."
Boy: "They went to private institutions."
Girl: "Check, please!"

Wow. Apparently dating has become just as mudslinging as recent elections.  And this blog is the Burn Book.

I'm no Snookie

Let me first preface this entry by saying that I enjoy reality TV shows. I am a big fan of The Bachelor/Bachelorette on ABC.

I am however not a fan of Jersey Shore. Why? I hate the subliminal messages I think that it sends to those who watch it, particularly those ranging from 13-20 years old who are at the height of their insecurities and desperately feel the need to fit in and fit into a mold.

Please explain to me why it is acceptable that these 20 something Americans think it is perfectly acceptable to get drunk, hit on whatever is dressed in next to nothing, bring her home, get it in there, and then make her leave? While I understand that this happens in the real world, why are we broadcasting it on TV? Are we just being honest with ourselves? Do we value this sort of entertainment in our personal lives? Are those that are watching the show wish that deep down inside themselves that this is what they were like? Are young men looking for pick up tips? Pretty sure that's a yes.

Moreover, I feel that young men and women are getting the idea that this sort of behavior and treatment is the norm, making it acceptable to be treated like a common whore, without the payment.  And young women definitely shouldn't be coaxed into thinking this should be the sort of treatment to be expected by the opposite sex. 

Why do women think they should dress like that to get attention either? And why should I be made to feel like a prude because I refuse to dress scandalously?  I like my parts covered up, thanks. I'm not free, or a bargain.  I know for a fact that it is already starting to seep into the dating world.

Sentiments as expressed by Carina who dates in NYC: The wonderful specimens on Jersey Shore certainly do no help my cause at finding decency among men.  But why are there women so desperate to sleep with one of those assholes, who basically just needs a hole to get it in, regardless of the quality of said hole! The women who would allow themselves to get into bed with those disgusting men ON CAMERA, thus validating their horrific treatment of women, should never be allowed to have sex again!

As an educator I am definitely worried about the psychological messages it sends to my young female students.  I try to provide them with examples of strong, impressive women who have done amazing things in history...but who cares about that when they can get a guy by showing their goodies. It's much easier to get a guy that way, isn't it?  Who wants to be strong and impress men with their mind when showing off the goods takes minimal effort and has instant results? 

And for my male students, it sends the message that it is acceptable to treat women in a degrading manner. Why should they treat her with decency when she doesn't even respect herself based on her behavior and dress?

So MTV, if you could cancel Jersey Shore, you'd really be helping out the youth of America.  It might actually improve the dating scene.  Maybe you can get funding through No Child Left Behind or some other government initiative? It would be a humanitarian effort for sure.

Marry Yourself

Check out this article: http://www.someecards.com/2010/10/22/woman-marries-herself-taiwan

A 30 year old woman in Taiwan marries herself.  Sounds like an odd thing to do.  But the woman explains that when you get to be a certain age in Taiwan if they aren't settling down and having a husband and family, it can make those single gals feel inadequate, probably unfulfilled in Taiwan's society. Moreover, the woman explains that we tend to shower our "sweetie" with gifts and attention, many times leaving ourselves out to dry.  Expressing your love for a man through a marriage and huge wedding should be something you're also willing to do for yourself. Self-marriage seems logical. 

She isn't the only one to think so.  Samantha, from Sex and the City, breaks up with Smith. Why? "I love you, but I love me more. I've been in a relationship with myself for 49 years and that's the one I need to work on."

Now I am not saying that I'm going to throw myself a wedding [although I do have the dress, flowers, and centerpieces ready...] What I am thinking about it is the concept of really treating yourself well. So many times women, including myself, get lost in the world and dreams of their significant other. My personal jury is still out deciding whether or not this is how it should be when you really love someone, but what they have decided on is that I need to treat myself with as much respect and love that I have given to my significant other.  If I don't, how can I expect him to really treat me the way I feel I deserve to be treated?

This Ain't a Fairy Tale

I'm not a princess and this ain't a fairy tale.

That's right. Despite the fact that Sleeping Beauty figurines and "princess" paraphernalia decorates a few shelves in my room, I am not a princess. Moreover, I do not belong in a fairy tale.  Not one you've created or one that I have concocted.

I hate when I start off dating someone new. They think I'm amazing and go on and on about all these great qualities that I have. And I do. It's not that I don't acknowledge that fact. However, its many times the fact that at first they can't seem to get past those stunning qualities and see that I am a real woman.

Read: I am a real woman. I have issues. I have faults. I make mistakes. I say things I shouldn't. I get angry, sad, frustrated, and 500 different emotions.  I'm stubborn and sarcastic.  I complain. I am selfish. I change my mind. Then, I'm dead set on a certain path.
                                    But,
I'm also smart, funny, beautiful, confident, selfless, happy, excited, flawless, and articulate my thoughts and feelings perfectly at times. I love like crazy. I believe in lost causes. I laugh. I am goofy. I am brillant and witty.  I am patient. I am loyal if you give me your love back. I am flexible.  I will trust you.

I am not a stock character even on my best days.

I shouldn't be put on a pedestal for making all your dreams come true.  If I am, that's when I disappoint you, and you end up leaving me. 

For all those boys who thought I was this fairy tale come true [Zach, Cerda, Maj, Clint, & Brandon]:: I need a man who loves the "perfect side" of me and the other side too.  I am a complete package- this isn't an a la carte menu where you can pick and choose to love the best parts of me, and decide you'd like to bail when the fantasy doesn't fully manifest. I hope that you do find that fantasy woman...call me when you do. I'd like to meet this perfect creature, who fell in love with a mere mortal like yourself.

Suicide

I have always seemed to be a little bit more on the melancholy side of happiness. Maybe it is the perfectionist in me that knows my life is far from perfect feeling deep sadness. I'm not really sure.

What I am sure is that I lost two men from my brother flight (265) from BMT within a week.  Both men, committed suicide. 

I've never known anyone to commit suicide before.  Now I know two. We have these events called "Safety Down Days" where we are forced to watch videos telling us to watch for signs within our fellow airmen who might be contemplating ending their lives. They all advise us to have them speak with a Chaplin...but the joke is that, once they do, they'll want to commit suicide even more because they'll be getting a discharge.

I don't know what was happening with Green & Alvarez that the both felt that ending their lives was the answer. I don't know why they felt that this could be the answer.  I don't know that they really vocalized these feelings to anyone from back home or at their duty stations.

What I do know is that I feel a great sense of loss.  Loss of two wonderful young men who were doing something very meaningful with their life, yet still felt an emptiness inside that couldn't be silenced.  They were heroes, didn't they know that?!?! Wasn't there anyone they could have talked to in order to convince them that this wasn't the answer? They were doing a great thing for themselves and their family...and now their families must mourn the loss of their young sons. 

I wish that they would have found solace here on earth....
R.I.P. Airman Green
R.I.P. Airman Alvarez

High Crawl

“If nothing else, one day you can look someone straight in the eyes and say, ‘But I lived through it. And it made me who I am today.’”- I Wrote This For You

Those 8 weeks at boot camp were some of the longest days of my life. They were some of the most challenging times, mentally and physically. I thought that I was prepared, but I know now, no amount of preparation could have prepared me ever. 

It's not that I was out of shape. I was in really good shape. It's not that I couldn't take being yelled at. I could, but I did hate it. It's not that I couldn't take being away from my family. I had been on my own in North Carolina before hand. It's not that I couldn't stand being in a bay of 59 other women. It definitely wasn't an ideal situation, but I have come out with some amazing women for friends.

Ok, so if I could handle all that stuff, what was so challenging?

Can you say Beast Week's Obstacle Course, high crawling up a hill? This is one of the things that sticks out in my mind. Many of the other times have blended together to just become a time in my life that I didn't really love, but this...this hill was a challenge. 

I was so scared. I literally started crying as I stood in line with Wirdges and Bouton. I had a helmet & ballistic vest on with an M16 in my hand and there I was as the rain was starting to come down (very picturesque). I was so afraid that I would not actually be able to high crawl up that damn hill, at a 45 degree angle, at least 200 feet, probably more I just can't fathom how many feet would really be in a hill that size. Wirdges told me it would be all right; that she'd be right there by my side. 

She was. She high crawled up that damn hill beside me and encouraged me as the sand got in my eyes, as my helmet fell over my face, as I became exhausted, as I got soaked from the rain, as I got sand in places where no one should get sand...

I have no idea how I really made it up that hill. I don't even know how long it all took. It felt like it was never going to happen, but there I was, getting over the hump in the hill and I was seeing 265/266 building temper tents together.

Since, I have come to the conclusion that the hill should be a metaphor for life and life's many challenges.  Sometimes I am scared to death about doing something.  But, with determination, encouragement, and strong will, I am able to get to struggle up the hill and eventually reach the easier place in the plateau. 

While I might have hated it; While  I might have feared it; I can say that I lived through that...and it has definitely helped to shape who I am.

Before I'm 30 List

People always refer to their Bucket List. The things in life they want to do before they die. Me, on the other hand, I'm a bit more ambitious. I want to have as many adventures and things crossed off my list by the time I'm 30. Why wait until I am old, have decaying bones, poor health, mortgage, possible spouse, children, grandchildren, and medical bills to worry about? More responsibility. The only things I have to worry about these days are my career, paying back student loans, and my car note. Just me. These are minimal in comparison. These are the days to conquer my list!

So my list:
1. Backpack/travel to England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, France, Germany, Italy (again), Greece, Denmark, Sweden, Russia, Mexico, Peru....Quebec....maybe a few others!
2. Get deployed to the Middle East.
3. Live overseas for at least 3 months.
4. Drive through all 48 continental United States.
5. Get published.
6. Research.
7. Join an alumna chapter & be involved.
8. Visit Nashville & see St. Jude Children's Research Hospital.
9. Go on an amazing vacation with my best friends.
10. Get tenure! (Wooo! Go me!)
11. Live in another state for at least a year.
12. Purchase a(nother) Jeep Wrangler.
13. Go deer hunting.
14. Make a palpable difference in a student's life.
15. Spoil my nephew and little cousins.
16. Take way too many pictures.
17. Fall in love (again).
18. Meet a celebrity. Preferably Luke Bryan.
19. Give back to Epsilon Iota & Allegheny College.
20. Visit NYC.
21. Throw my parent's an anniversary party.
22. Speak fluent Italian.

As for what I plan to do after I'm 30...well, I haven't really thought about it much.  I figure once I start crossing things off this list I'll think of more things I want to tackle. Let's face it, what I tackle, I conquer.

Ideas for the After I'm 30 List: jump out of an airplane; get married? maybe?; kids? maybe?; house? maybe? ehhh guess I'll figure that list out after this one is finished!

Is There an App for That?

Grief. Sadness. Crying. Indifference. Defiance. Contempt. Independence. Happiness. Freedom. Loneliness. Ambivalence. These are just some of the emotions I have been feeling in the last month as I have put forth in my effort for my heart to forget Maj. It has not been easy. After roughly 2 full weeks of crying, crippling depression, and just mangled feelings in general, I was able to, for the past 2 weeks start breathing again. I have started to see the signs of my full acceptance of what has occurred.  I have started to believe in the positive things in my life, rather than focusing on this negative.  I have felt very happy; felt alive even. 

Despite these positive emotions I have been having I also have my moments of sadness. I can't say it is even just a singular moment where tears fall from my eyes. Mostly it feels like a headache does...it is there, you notice it, but still you have to trudge along and not pay it much heed.  It is a constant emotion that I simply can not shake. There are times when it is not present at all; like when I was front row at the Luke Bryan concert last week. But then there are times when I know its there, I let myself feel terribly sad for a moment, but rather than have it disappear, the sting of sadness? regret? longing? love unrequited? remains. 

After other breakups I would see something or think of a memory and immediately start bawling.  Once I had calmed down and the crying ceased, I felt better. I was able to cry out my frustration and feelings then.  This time around though, I can't seem to be able to fall back on my normal remedy to fix my heart. 

So here I ask, in this world of technology, where everything seems to have a quick solution...Is there an app for that? Is there an app for moving on? Is there a special formula I should follow in order to see results?  Is there a guide to the galaxy of a broken heart?

I've enlisted advice from some of my closest friends.  All weekend I asked my cousin how she was able to move on from her previous long term relationship.  Carina always helps me whenever I send her a message stating my disapproval of how I am handling the situation.  The truth is, I don't know how to handle this! I don't feel like myself! I feel so much more mature than I have in past breakups.  While this should be a good thing, I simply don't understand how a mature woman deals with such heartache.  Why aren't I crying? Why am I able to feel so happy so soon after? How can I still miss him? How can I believe things happen for a reason? Why am I not crying all the time?

Charlotte York says that it takes half as long to move on from a past relationship as you were in it (meaning: 1 year relationship, 6 months of grief before fully moving on).  Laura says it just takes time, but that I will be able to fully recover.  Carina says there is no set place or stage that I should be in at this time. "As long as you're doing the best that you know how to do, you're fine! You're making strides and I'm so proud of you!"  Elizabeth Gilbert once drove into a new relationship, another time she took a year hiatus to Italy, India, and Bali. Carrie Bradshaw starts dating again sometimes, others she dyes her hair and redecorates her apartment.  Hayden suggests just getting back in there and playing the game with new boys.

So again I ask for a simpler solution: Is there an app for that?

Is recovering from heartache an individual process? Or can it/should it follow some sort of established protocol in order receive the fullest results?  Is there a right and wrong way to move through the termination of a relationship?

My Last Name

I have often declared to my boyfriends and my friends that I love my last name.  That I do not want to change it when (...should I say and if?...) I get married.  Men tend to shrink away when I state this declaration of near independence. 

The  "What about when you have kids? You'll have a different last name from them!" argument:
Yes. Thank you for noticing. Parents who have been divorced and are remarried typically have a different last name than their children from a previous union do as well. Sometimes single mothers give their children the father's last name.  In today's society, this is not something that is too much of a problem. In fact some colleagues actually have students write their parent's home/work phone number down with what they should be addressed as. 


The "You should take the husband's last name, that's what everyone else does. It's tradition" argument:
Ahh the tradition argument. Yes, you're right, it is tradition.  It is a custom we [those of us who are of European decent] have adopted since taking on last names in the Middle Ages. I get that; the men were the breadwinners of the day, they ruled the house, they were the only ones who had a true legal identity, so yes, it makes sense that women would take on their husband's last name upon marriage. Perhaps it is even romantic to think about your identity being merged with your love's.

But we no longer take on the other part of the original custom; women have a legal identity in today's society here in the U.S. Remember, that little thing called the 19th Amendment? It gave women the right to vote and made us separate citizens in legal terms from our fathers (after 18) and our husbands.  (Why do you think divorce is so messy these days? If we weren't legal citizens we wouldn't be able to sue for divorce -unless on the grounds of adultery- and we'd have no assets to fight to regain. It would all be our husband's since the moment our hand passed from our father's to his.)

Now I understand it is partially a sentimental tradition. But so is having a big, fancy, 19th century inspired wedding gown & a groom in a tux.  Think Queen Victoria's wedding.  Doesn't mean it is necessary.  Customs change. In colonial times, women wore yellow wedding dresses to symbolize constancy.  And there is nothing in the Bible that mandates wedding dresses, last names, etc.

My Last Name argument:
My last name is important to me. It sounds right with my first name. 

I am in the reserves.  I went to basic training. One of the most exciting moments of those 8 weeks was finally getting my name tape sewn onto my ABU jacket.  I felt as though I had earned the right to my last name.  Now, I haven't gone on a deployment yet, but I know that when I do, I will come home with even more pride in the name I wear across my chest.
My grandfather was in the Army in WWII.  He and I share the same last name.  Now that I too am in the military I feel a connection to him that I was unable to make when he was alive. 

I use my last name in my professional career outside of the military as well.  My certifications are in my last name. I am called by my last name.  I claim authorship to my writing and research with my last name.

My last name is part of who I am. It is a symbol of who I am and I do not want to let go of it, simply because I decide to spend my life with a single person. I do not see myself as only my first name. I am that weird Latin/Italian/Germanic mix that is represented in my namesakes.  Just like I am a country girl and city lover co-mingling within the same being.


I do not fault or judge women who change their last name when they get married. I think that in the 21st century it is a personal choice driven out of the 1970s feminist movement; just like birth control.  I choose to keep mine.

I don't see why I can't be referred to as Mrs. Bryan in my personal life. Why can't I call up the pizza shop and tell them that the pick up order is under Mrs. Bryan instead of Ms. Gilmore? Why can't I let my son's friends call me Mrs. Bryan? It's only legally that I'm trying to preserve my name, not necessarily socially. 

Hopefully Mr. Right will understand. If not, maybe I can give up something else. Perhaps I'll offer him a den with big comfy couches, big screen TV, bar, and pool table where he can watch football games all season if I can legally keep my last name.

When we walk into the wedding reception, they can even say "Introducing Mr & Mrs Bryan." I promise I won't mind.

Road Trips

When I was younger our family vacations started with a road trip; all 5 of us and our stuff piled up in our garnet and grey van.  When I was in high school I never went on the road trips that my cousin & I or my friends & I dreamed of finally being able to go on when we turned 16. But my sense of adventure, or rather, burning desire for adventure has never subsided.

I first started conducting my solo road trips when I was a freshman in college. I drove from Brockport to Allegheny nearly every other weekend to visit my high school boyfriend.  During the summer of my junior year I would travel to Pittsburgh to see a boyfriend.  Later in my senior year of college I drove to North Carolina to see Zach who was stationed in Fayetteville. 

I guess I started falling in love with driving.  I bought a new car that got better gas mileage so that it wouldn't cost so much.  I remembered the fun I would have as a kid, cruising along the road, seeing what was out there, listening to the radio (which is how I can sing along to all the Oldies songs my parents listen to). I was out there on the road by myself. I controlled my own destination.  I felt free.

There is something that makes me feel alive when I'm out there on the road. I love feeling the sun beat in through the windshield. I love the sound of the wind gushing through the open windows.  I love turning the radio up as loud as I can make it when I find a station with one of my favorites. I love the way I can scan the radio and hear a song that I haven't heard in awhile, years perhaps, that immediately puts a smile on my face. I love not having a GPS system guide me. Yes, I have the directions written down, but the way "going with your gut" when it comes to directions gives the instant gratification of strength and courage that nothing else has ever compared to in my life. I love stopping in new places to get gasoline.

I think that the road trips I have been on are a mirror of my life.  Obviously they are moments in my life, but more than that the road trip itself is a mirror of my inner being and situation.  I have had my share of boyfriends, but all for one trip, it has been a solo journey.    I have made wrong turns. I have stopped and asked for directions.  I have nearly run out of gasoline.  I have had the anxiety of whether or not I actually took the correct exit.  I have discovered a place I had only heard of in books.  I have taken pictures. I have seen battlefields. I have crossed over plains and rivers. I have felt alone and scared. I have journeyed through mountains. I have felt happy and exhilarated.  I am always the driver.  I am in control.  I look forward to the drive to my destination, but typically dread the return home. I have felt like a pioneer. 

For those reasons above, it only seemed appropriate that after my recent heartache I take a road trip. However, this was no ordinary breakup. This was not some boy I just needed to get over.  This was a man I thought I was going to spend forever with.  So, I decided I needed, my soul needed, my heart needed more than one road trip. 4 to be precise. In the span of 5 weeks. To help me, my soul, and my heart to move forward and forget the past with new, bright, and happy moments. 

Maybe then, I'll find peace. Or at least the start of it. 

Soul Mates

Maybe our girlfriends are our SOUL MATES and guys are just people to have fun with. --Sex and the City ♥

My recent breakup has had me really thinking about my friends. Not just the women I talk with, but my true, deep friendships that I formed in college with some of the most amazing, strong, inspiring, and supportive women I have ever met. This recent string of heartbreaking events has given me a new appreciation of their love and warmth, as well as given me the push to ask for help from them when I really need it (even though we are all separated by hundreds of miles).

Alisha has been one of my very best friends since Preference Night when we were seeking a spot in the newest sorority on Allegheny's campus.  I have a multitude of photographs of her and I from Bid Day, already best friends, joined at the hip.  I instantly felt comfortable around her; she knew who she was and she wasn't afraid to show it. I accepted her for exactly who she was. I was awe-struck by her. I was still learning who I really was. I was trying to carve out a separate identity for myself that semester.  Alisha definitely helped me on my journey to do so.  We had each other's shoulder to cry on over our high school loves.  Those tears helped to seal our friendship forever.

Carina and I became very close friends during my senior year of college.  We had met in Tri Delta the previous semester and grew closer and closer with the time we spent together. I supported her events in the sorority; growing close in sisterly solidarity that both of us lacked in our biological life.  She became my sister through and through. Carina has always made me feel as though I was worth it; that I should be an advocate for myself. She has always helped to believe in me, even when I was blinded by the hurtful things that had been said to me.  She encouraged me to eat. She encouraged my creativity.  She was like sunshine on a rainy day.  In return, I have tried to help her remain in the loop as she works crazy hours in Manhattan.  I have tried to help her remain grounded and hopeful. 

Theresa and I grew closer and closer as my time at Allegheny drew to a close.  I had met her through Tri Delta and I knew that I desperately wanted to be her friend. She was so much fun. She laughed and was a joy to be around. It was always eventful with Theresa. But she was also serious. She worried. She cared about things working out.  I saw so many things of myself within Theresa; I think that is why I became best friends with her.  It was a similar reflection of myself, similar problems and issues, and I wanted to reassure her that everything would work out, even if that detailed plan wasn't drawn up yet.  Maybe I said that to her because I wanted to believe the same thing for my own ideas and plans.  Or maybe I told her that because it was the truth and I was still grappling with accepting it as such.  I always tried to show my undying support for her. To lead by example, that changing your mind frequently really wasn't detrimental to life. 

Kristen and I started out as going-out friends during the last semester of my senior year.  But how could you not love Kristen? She was down to earth, gentle, humble, gracious, and I thought perfect. She represented many of the qualities I wanted to have more of in my life.  Kristen is like a warm hug.  She comforts, uses endearments, and genuinely cares about her friends.  I always tried to have as big of a heart as her.  I have always tried to love her back completely.  I think she is such a brave and smart woman. She isn't (too) afraid to follow her heart and dreams.

Audra is my newest best friend. In fact, Audra and I were not friends in college. We became friends during Kristen and Theresa's senior year when I would visit them.  When I started to hang out with Audra and the rest of the girls I thought to myself, why were we not friends in college?!?! We would have had a ball!!!  It was through Audra that I saw what was really part of my deepest friendships:  No judgement.  We loved each other, but we did not judge one another's actions.  We were reflections of the truth, but harsh words of judgement about our actions or characters were never part of the friendship role we lived in. 

It was also through Audra that I realized that friendship did not know a distance.  It really didn't matter how long it had been since we last spoke or saw one another. We had each other's back. We shared in one another's hopes, dreams, and aspirations. We would be a constant in each other's lives. 

Why are they my soul mates? Because they have helped shape me. Helped peel back the layers to allow me to understand my true self better. The girl that I used to know back in middle school, who got swallowed up in high school, and who was trying to figure it all out in college.  And the woman, now, who is still learning more about herself every day. Impressing herself everyday with her fortitude, optimism, and spirit.  I can only hope that I am helping them do the very same thing. 

"You haven’t found the right man, but I'll love you forever! So you found the right friends at least."

This is why my best friends Alisha, Carina, Theresa, Kristen, and Audra are my soul mates.

3 Capital Letters

When you have been in a serious relationship for quite some time, the world of singledom can seem like a fun place to be again.  You go from having one option, to having as many as you'd like.  However, being out of the single world, can also put you in a dangerous position once you reintroduce yourself to that world.

I went down to my old college town this past weekend to visit one of my very best friends who is now a senior.  As per our tradition, we headed down to MSG to play some pool and dance on the speakers. MSG was not as crowded as I fondly remember it being, however we managed to have a good time and meet some new guys. 

One guy, Josh from Pitt Greensburg, was particularly attentive towards me for the evening.  He was a blond, good looking Business-majoring junior from the Pittsburgh area who liked to work out. Josh was funny, making goofy faces as he would tell his jokes.  We talked for awhile before I convinced him to join me out on the dance floor. 

As MSG closed, Josh asked me for my number.

Alisha and I made our way back to her apartment for the night.  After we had arrived I received a text from Josh, asking me where I was staying.  I replied and then he texted back, "You DTF?"

I wasn't sure what I had just read. DTF. I looked at Alisha and asked her whether or not she knew what that meant.  She said she didn't but could probably take a stab at it. 

I answered Josh, questioning what the acronym stood for.  "You know what it means." "Shut up. Get down here." Needlesstosay, I declined the so-eloquently made offer. 

Had there been a change in the booty call text repertoire? I had only been in a serious relationship for a year; had it all changed so much?  No more were the ways of asking to hook up with actual words.  Rather, the booty call had been reduced to 3 capital letters in a text message. 

According to a few friends it has been referenced in Jersey Shore. If this is the way singledom has evolved in the last year, maybe I should get a cat and learn to knit on the weekends. 

Dating vs. dating

Sometimes, I'm afraid that the male species is de-evolving.  Maybe there is something that the water is messing with in the XY (or is it XX) chromosome that make modern men a bit more challenged than previous generations. 

My friends and I have had countless discussions on men's phobia and misinterpretation of "dating."  Now, to clarify just exactly the jargon used to discuss relationships with men:

a date- one singular event, in which the male should take it upon himself to cover. This is particularly important if it is one of the first in a series of dates.

to date- to go on planned outings

dating- 1. to go on multiple dates with a singular person. 2. to go on multiple dates with multiple people. 3. to not be in a serious committed relationship with a singular person.

Dating- to be in a serious or committed relationship in which you only go on dates with one person, and that person only goes on dates with you.

Relationship- to be in a serious or committed relationship in which you only go on dates with one person, and that person only goes on dates with you.

To clarify, "hanging out," "talking to," and late night texts or meetings at bars do not qualify as a date. 

Maybe now there won't be so much confusion. Or at least, we women can only hope!

Loss.

I am a history nerd. NERD. It has always defined me and I'm pretty sure it will define me until the day I become part of the unknown in history.  I have written lengthy papers on topics that interest me.  I have continued researching my senior thesis topic since graduating from undergrad.  My senior thesis is probably THE most important and most revealing thing I have written.  Very few people have read it.  Very few people understand why I would write about what I did. ( I wrote about mourning customs in antebellum America; about  Southern women who had experienced great loss during 4 years of war and talked about their grief;   about Ladies Memorial Associations after the war that helped Southern women heal a wound that was so deep in their heart and psyche.)

Since most people do not understand why I ever would have stumbled upon that sort of topic for a senior thesis, I rarely take the time to explain it.  Grief, death, and mourning are all very personal things.  Why would I want to write about women's experiences with grief 150 years later?  Because it is personal. Because history shouldn't be impersonal.  Because they were women and just like me have experienced grief in their lives. 

I read an article on Yahoo! News this morning.  Patrick Swayze's wife continues to text her husband. One woman in the article says she kept her husband's phone activated so that she could phone and hear his voice when the call went to voicemail.  Michelle Williams (Heath Ledger's girlfriend, or at least child's mother) said that she wished that in today's society we still had the traditions of the antebellum era to help those who are recovering from loss deal with the pain in an organized fashion. 

Part of antebellum tradition dictated women's dress throughout the mourning process.  Now, before you get all feminist on me, thinking that societal rules that dictate such things are antiquated, think about how it might help someone suffering from a serious loss. After the loss, women were instructed to wear black.  They would wear their grief on their sleeve, literally. As time passed, they were permitted to alter their clothing's shade.  From black they would go to grey and then a mauve to purple shade.  Then when the societal dictated time was correct, they could begin to wear their normal clothes again.  While it may seem confining to today's women, there is something to be said about dictated guidelines of how to mourn a loss. They moved through their grief emotionally and physically. 

These guidelines were meant to help those who had felt a tremendous loss, hold on to their life and keep it together.  Most of us want for our lives to continue with as normal after a tremendous loss, but it can, at times, seem impossible. It is hard to keep it together. You want the hurt and pain to be over with, but you know that if you aren't feeling anything, then you aren't holding onto the past with enough reverence. 

So what are today's guidelines when it comes to dealing with a loss? How do you move on in the present, while still maintaining a connection to the part of your life that is no longer there?