English Major on strike.

I think I should have stuck with dental school.
One more semester of science and math classes and I could apply.

I always loved the idea of being a dentist. I am good enough to be a dentist. I'm even smart enough.

Truth be told - I'm tired of defending my major.

Person: "What are you going to school for?"
Me: "English."
Person: "...Oh."
Me: "and secondary education."
Person: "You want to be a teacher!"
Me: "yes."
Person: "I have a friend like you. She's in Med School."

....

I feel like it's never good enough - the English major. The teaching plan. I'm tired of feeling ashamed and inadequate - like somehow being an English teacher is an unworthy cause.

Sometimes the convos go:
Person: "What's your major?"
Me: "English... and secondary ed."
Person: "You know, 3 out of every 5 teachers doesn't make it through the first 5 years. They quit or work outside the realm of education."

-----
What are you trying to say? That you think I'm one of them? That I'm not strong, smart, tall, bold or brave enough? What will make you happy, people?

Maybe I will just go to dental school... and when I do - you better hope you don't end up at my practice. I might just forget to inject your lips with lidocaine.

Rah!

The In-Between.

I've been in a strange place recently.... and I can't say I've been enjoying it.

I feel like the term "growing pains" has taken on a whole new meaning.

For the first time, primarily because of Jamie's passing, I've taken a step back and started seriously evaluating the things that I want for my life and for my future. To be honest, I hate doing things like this... and while it was going to have to happen sooner or later, I wish it had been later. Not only because of the circumstances that have caused me to re-evaluate myself and my decisions, but... I don't exactly feel like I'm ready for all the changes that are about to/ are occurring in my life.

A lot of what has been going on has caused me to micro analyze my interactions with other people. How does this make me feel? Why does it make me feel this way? Is this healthy: yes or no? What would I have done two months ago in this situation, and what am I going to to do now?

Believe it or not I spend a lot of my time mulling over how my words and actions will affect others and the way they feel. I want the people I care about to know that I care about them - and I always want to let them know. I never want to hurt them, I want them to know everything I'm doing - I want to tell them about my day to day events. I want to let them know what I'm doing tomorrow, next week, next month! I want to let them in on every boring and mundane and lousy facet of my life.

The flip side, and this may be unreasonable, is that I expect the same from other people. The worst part is that (in general) the people who claim to care the most don't do those things for me. It could be because they just don't think about it - sure. But in my disturbed little brain it's because they don't trust me. Or that they're intentionally trying to hurt me. Or because they want to force a reaction out of me.

It makes me uncomfortable. I know where these reactions stem from... I do. And a large part of me wishes I just didn't give a damn about the people around me. But I do. I care, maybe a little too much. I've always been a victim of my own standards for people. I set the bar incredibly high, but only as high as I'm capable of 'performing' or whatever. Sure. That sounds like I'm tooting my own horn or whatever as some incredible friend or something - but ... I guess what I'm trying to say is that if I put 100 percent of me and my effort into any type of relationship, I fully expect the same from other people. If I put in 30 percent, then I expect that I'll receive 30 percent from someone else, etc.

My struggle is ... maybe someone is giving 100%. But that's just not good enough for me. Is that grounds to walk away? Or are they not really giving 100%? I can't assume they are, because I know what 100% looks like. Or... at least...my definition.

Or maybe they perceive my 100% to be less than their 100%?

-----

all in all.... this is just one of the many weird things running through my head.

the worst part is, people (if people read this at all) will think "is she talking about me?" then they will take it how they choose. and people almost are always on the defense.

So here: no. this is not about any particular person. This is a general concern. This is me trying to work through who I am in this little text box. If you feel the same way ever, that would be so great to know... because then I'll know I'm not alone! And if I'm crazy, tell me... and help me figure out a way to work through it. Do I think too much? Should I start just going with feelings only? Help me out.

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F is for Friends

Some things just aren't worth thinking about and it's taken me a while to figure that out.

I spend ... waste ... hours of my life worrying about things that no one else even blinks an eye at. And as selfish as it may seem to just cut certain things out of my life, I feel like it needs to be done.

I'm not certain if I'm just putting up a wall... or legitimately refusing to care about certain issues... but there are a few things that I'm brushing off of my shoulder and not looking back toward.

The thing that sucks the most (for you anyway) is that I'm not telling you what these things are - so you just get to use your pretty little imaginations.

A Lack of Color

So I have to write a short story for my ENGL 3001 class.... and I'm having a hard time finding anything to inspire me. I don't have any creative juices left. College life has sucked all the joys of writing out of me. I can't make stories up anymore....

So I have an idea, but I dunno how to execute it and I don't even know if it will work.

I need some help.

Inspiration fairy, please leave me a gift under my pillow (or laptop) tonight.

They see a threat because I am original.

Nikki scratched at her notebook with her pen.
"J. Alfred Prufrock"
She stared at her writing, something was definitely missing.
After a little pondering she scratched again,
"J. Alfred Prufrock...is a waste of time."

The sentence gleamed at her as though she had uncovered some treasure of truth from underneath the dirt-pile of hodgepodge and nonsense that her professor was burying her in.

...."many speculate that he might have been gay" continued the professor. More dirt.

Nikki's mind wandered. Her foot tapped against the leg of her chair.
Her imagination let her lunge from her seat. Now she could jab the professor to a slow and painful death.

"Professor: Death by multiple pen jabs!" is what the headlines of the paper would read.

"I'm sorry I'm such a bad teacher" she'd say.
"You deserve an A!" She'd say!

Nikki blinked.
Reality.
No death-by-pen-jabbed professor.
Just the lonely love song of J. Alfred Prufrock and the reminder to not dare disturb the universe.