Chupa Chups: March 2010

not so saintly after all

Please allow me to inform you that I am not Mother Theresa. I’m sure she was a nice lady but sadly I am not her. I do my part, e.g., recycling, volunteering, etc. However, I can’t commit to fully saving the world. It would be a major drain. I’m only but one person and I know I can’t do it all by myself or afford it. Ghandhi and Dr. King were troopers. I can’t begin to fill their shoes. I want to save one and I want to save all, but I have to be realistic and know that I can’t save them all. One lives today but ten die tomorrow. I don’t want the weight of those ten on my shoulders. I can do my part as best as I can. I can’t promise you anything and I most certainly can’t promise you perfection. I’m only one person. I, too, need help. Although I’m all for saving the environment and all its inhabitants, I simply can’t protect them all forever. Things have a natural course; I have a natural flow. Please accept my apologies. I am only able to do so much. I’m not Mother Theresa. I’m not Al Gore. I’m not Bill Gates. I may give to the homeless. I may volunteer at animal and human shelters. I may volunteer at the parks. However, I’m only me. I’m only one person. I feel guilty. I feel guilty for not being able to do more. I know my limitations. Sadly, I can’t save the world. One person is all it takes. One person saves and one person is saved. Allow me to give as best as I can, but please don’t push me to do more than I can. I appreciate your efforts, as I hope you’ll appreciate mine. Please don’t judge me, chastise me. I’ve done more than the average Jane. Please forgive me but Mother Theresa is dead and her shoes are something I don’t wish to fill.

sunny sunday

With fogged up eyes, I’m feeling sad, alone, and in pain. My eyes are foggy because I need to toss out these old contacts. I’m feeling sad because of financial issues. I’m feeling alone because I’m currently alone in my living room. Sad, alone, and in pain because I’m feeling overwhelmed in this living room; a room cluttered with tons of paper, bills, clean laundry, and just one hot mess. Although I tried taking care of myself this morning (because last night I had a Crumbs cupcake) by going for a long run, I’m now facing a piercing foot pain. I feel like bolting. Opening the door, boarding an airplane, and never really looking back because that’s how I decide to deal with things. It’s one of the only things that soothe me. All these ailments are curable, fixable. Step one: toss out those old and worn contacts. Step two: start picking up the mess that’s on the floor. Step three: fold the laundry and put it away. Please continue. Feeling sorry for myself doesn’t help. It only keeps me in this dark hole. There’s a light at the end of every tunnel and hole and I need to look for mine. As Ms. Suze Orman says, I need to face it to erase it. I need to get real with myself. If I keep living in denial, nothing will change. I need to face my reality and steer into the direction I’d like to move in. I need to move. Need to move as fast as I can. I’m not saying at super speed but at a more accelerated speed than I’m moving now, which is snail’s pace. It’s taken me weeks to mail out a form that took me two minutes to fill out. So I write. I write to clear my head. I write to figure and let things out. I need to exhale. I can’t continue to hold my toxic breathe and hope everything fixes itself. I need to breathe out. The toxins are killing my organs. I need my heart. I need my lungs. I need everything inside of me. All my organs have a function and by holding this toxicity, I’m only harming myself. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Now, exhale. Let it out. Let the pain out. Let the sadness out. Let the loneliness out. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Let the cool and calm air in. Let the warmth fill your hearth. Let the warmth fill your lungs. Let the warmth fill your stomach. Mmmm….it feels good. It feels good to breathe and exhale.

mousing around

Click…click….click….click..clickety-click, clickety-click, clickety, clickety-click….what’s this I see? It’s the green-eyed jealous cyber stalker monster that lives inside of me. I started off innocently by just glancing through the Facebook wall. Soon the Facebook wall turned into noticing who you befriended. Eventually I started looking through every photo you posted and inspected all of them. In the beginning you would check your Facebook on my computer and I would simply log you off. I didn’t want to know and I felt you deserved your privacy. To give it is to receive it, right? Eventually my brown eyes started changing color. First they became hazel and eventually aquamarine green. I fear they will turn toxic chemical green soon. I can’t help it but I can. Cyber stalking is just so simple and anonymous. Oh why is the green-eyed monster in me awakened? I was a normal girl at age 17. At age 19, I was free as a bird. The boyfriend at that time had his issues and eventually his jealous issues became my issue. They slowly seeped into me. The age 20 boyfriend was an uphill battle. It was tough constantly coming up with defensive strategies. Age 21-26, was a string of unfortunate events. Those were unavailable and barely dateable. Did I mention those were also not completely yours? They were great multi-taskers that much I can give them. Now at 26 ½, I am the green-eyed monster. The age 17 carefree bird enthusiast became the 26 ½ who is sifting through phone messages, Facebook inboxs and walls. Shameful can’t begin to cover it. I’ve become the jaded lover. Ironically, this is one of the healthiest relationships I’ve been in and yet I’m the one looking for the metaphorical shoe. Clickety-click, clickety-click, clickety-clack…splat…splatter…splattering.

proclamation

Hear ye, hear ye! I doth proclaim myself a full-fledged (or as close as I can be) adult. I’ve schooled. I’ve worked. I’ve lived. I’ve toiled. I am a fully-fledged adult. I’ve taken on responsibility. I’ve buckled down when the times required me to. I’ve been the epitome of Emily Post’s great-great-grandchild. Yes, I am a full-fledged adult. I may now proceed onto bigger and better things. I am an adult who is comfortable in their own Chupa Chups skin. I’m as honest as can be. I feel really guilty lying to people, but I’m not one to shy away from a little white lie; you know, like the few times a homeless person comes up to you and asks you for change and you say you don’t have any. I mean don’t get me wrong. I give up my change if I have it. However, if I’m not in the best financial situations, I’m most certainly not going to give up my laundry money quarter to a stranger who’s probably making good on loose change. If I can’t afford to give coins, I do my best to offer whatever food I may have. (Haven’t you noticed that although they say they want something to eat, they’d rather get the cash instead?) So, yes, I am a fully-fledged adult. I practice good hygiene. In the winter, I shower, floss, brush, and rinse at least twice a day; morning and night. When summer time arrives, it’s at least three times. I commit to nourishing my body with healthy foods. I’ve just taught myself to eat celery. I’m not 100% there but I’m a good 40% there. I’ve taught myself to eat spinach, broccoli, bean curd, tofu, etc. Yes, I am a fully-fledged adult. Sadly, as this fully-fledged adult, my metabolism isn’t the best. It’s increasingly slowing down. It’s harder for me to manage my weight. Although I’ve not gained much weight, I’ve also not been able to lose any; mostly because I forget the most important part of the component of weight loss- actually get up off the couch. Sigh. SO to the world: I doth proclaim my adultness. I am one of you. I’ve joined your ranks. I’m a doer and not just a follower. World, that is all. Please continue with your day. Goodbye.

one, two, three, four...one two, three four

Did you know that my feelings are valid? Did you know that everyone’s feelings are valid? So, why do you call me a “drama queen” when I tell you I’m not feeling well? Do I do the same to you? No, absolutely not. I empathize. I try to make you feel better. I offer my services to you. I assure you that you can count on me for whatever you need in your time of need. SO, why do you criticize me for validating my own feelings? I’m tired of treating my feelings as second-class citizens in comparison to yours. My feelings are valid. They tell me what’s going on with me. I need to not focus on your ailments and focus on mine. I’m not criticizing you for voicing your feelings and ailments. In fact, I encourage you to speak your truth. Therefore, I request you treat my feelings and opinions with the same courtesy as I treat yours. I will no longer be passive. My feelings will no longer ride at the back of the bus so that yours can take up five seats up front. My feelings and I matter. They matter to me. If they don’t matter to you, I guess we have a problem. I guess you’re not the individual I thought you always were. I guess it’s about time I packed up and went about my way. My feelings are valid and will no longer look to you for validation. They are valid on their own. I will voice my feelings and opinions whenever I see fit. I will no longer take a backseat to you. Here me now. I am Rosa Parks and I will no longer ride at the back of the bus. My feelings and feet are as trampled as yours. However, I will not continue their demise to make room for yours to heal. My feelings need to heal as well. You may not like it but they’re real. They are real to me and they exist loud and proud!

coma character

Waaaaaaa Waaaaaa. I’m stuffed to the gills. I feel like a fisherman is going to stick his hook in my gut at any time. I’m stuffed. Stuffed to the gills. I had Italian for lunch. Penne vodka with fresh mozzarella. Simple. Clean. Yummy. Today it is extra heavy. I feel as if someone stuffed a water balloon down my throat. Honestly, I feel like those video game cartoon characters when they get killed off and just sit with birds and weird symbols above their heads. You know what I’m talking about. The characters that once they die their eyes become Xs and they sit on the floor twirling in circles. I feel like that cartoon character right now. Right now I’m stuffed to the gills. Ouch. Was that a fisherman sticking its hook in me?!

definitions

/ɪˈnɪʃiətɪv, ɪˈnɪʃə-/ Show Spelled[ih-nish-ee-uh-tiv, ih-nish-uh-] Show IPA

–noun
1.an introductory act or step; leading action: to take the initiative in making friends.
2.readiness and ability in initiating action; enterprise: to lack initiative.
3.one's personal, responsible decision: to act on one's own initiative.
4.Government.
a.a procedure by which a specified number of voters may propose a statute, constitutional amendment, or ordinance, and compel a popular vote on its adoption. Compare referendum (def. 1).
b.the general right or ability to present a new bill or measure, as in a legislature.

–adjective
5.of or pertaining to initiation; serving to initiate: Initi-ative steps were taken to stop manufacture of the drug.
Use initiative in a Sentence
See images of initiative
Search initiative on the Web

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Origin:
1785–95; initiate + -ive

—Related forms
in·i·ti·a·tive·ly, adverb
self-in·i·ti·a·tive, noun
su·per·in·i·ti·a·tive, noun
un·in·i·ti·a·tive, adjective

—Synonyms
2. leadership, forcefulness, dynamism.

in·i·tia·tive (ĭ-nĭsh'ə-tĭv)
n.
The power or ability to begin or to follow through energetically with a plan or task; enterprise and determination.

A beginning or introductory step; an opening move: took the initiative in trying to solve the problem.

The power or right to introduce a new legislative measure.

The right and procedure by which citizens can propose a law by petition and ensure its submission to the electorate.

adj.
Of or relating to initiation.

Used to initiate; initiatory.

in·i'tia·tive·ly adv.

sorry but how do you spell that again?

Performance Initiative. It seems I lack this key trait…at work, school, and in life. Whilst checking old work evaluations, I keep coming upon this pattern that I apparently have and refuse to address. It seems I address it sometimes but quickly see a little shiny thing and get more intrigued with it than my original goal. Performance Initiative. What is it really? I am very familiar with the two words by themselves but together what do they really mean for and about me? It is something that needs improving in me and that’s for certain. As any good analytical person, I quickly jumped on the World Wide Web to decipher this pattern of mine. I started with WebMD and nothing substantial popped up. I proceeded with dividing the words and finding a good medium for the two. I found nothing. Absolutely nothing to clue me in as to the real problem, the one that lies within. The only answer I could come up with is WHY. Why do I constantly do this? Why do I do it to myself? Do I feel proud of this? Do I even know what it looks like when it manifests? I can honestly tell you I don’t. I have an inkling of what it looks like but no concrete proof of it. It could be my infamous B average throughout school. Well, you know, it could be the academic career where I was more than complacent to be a B student. Trying was too hard and when I neared failing marks, I quickly started my engines on full blast. Honestly, I don’t know what showing good performance initiative is. I volunteer outside of work; does that count? I allow people existing the building to go first through the doors. I wait at the crosswalk until the light turns green. Performance Initiative. Does it mean that I’m not a big enough brown-noser? Or that I don’t put much effort into things? Perhaps it means all of the above? I didn’t grow up having to show initiative. I was forced by my mother to do things; you could even say guilted or manipulated into it. I believe she made the environment difficult for me to even develop an initiative trait. Feeling guilty when I didn’t do things or punished when I didn’t do things. How’s that for development? BUT I can’t keep blaming her for everything that went wrong in my life. I have to take responsibility of my own actions. I think I’m more than old enough to know how the world works and know what I need to do. Principals above personalities is what I hear. You are there to do a job. You do it to the best of your abilities. You make sure you do it well and don’t protest. Performance Initiative. It’s something I’m going to work on. It is something I think I’ve always been aware of and refused to acknowledge. Do you want to move up in the world Chupa Chups? If so, I suggest your increase your performance initiative.