It was kind of awkward seeing The Fry again, after so many months of silence. I hadn't laid eyes on him since the seventh grade, and it appeared (outwardly, at least) that he hadn't changed in the slightest. Neither had I. Still I didn't hesitate sitting down at the computer next to his in the library, even though I fought every urge to turn and look at him. I wondered if I should say something. Something old friends say when they haven't reunited for a while. Except that was just it- we weren't friends, not by any definition. I never talked to him in school besides a passing hello every now and then, and as I recall he was pretty unpopular, and everyone just ignored him. Including me. So I didn't say hi.
He was suddenly rigid and upright, so I knew he recognized me, too. Still no hello, not from either end. Just an awkward glance that we both exchanged inconveniently at the same time. I had no idea what to say. There was nothing to say. Like I said; we weren't friends. But at the same time, we weren't exactly the opposite, either.
I guess it just made me a little sad, sitting there, mute. Not acknowledging his existence. Him not acknowledging mine. When he finally got up, gathered his things, and left, I watched him go. And waved.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
5 Things That Do Not Make You a Tomboy
Being the only girl= blessing. Major blessing. You might think it would be utterly horrifying at times... like when I have to clean the bathroom (which I probably should be doing right now), but the honest truth is that I wouldn't have it any other way.
Translate: I am so, so, so glad that I can at least have some minor grasp of understanding how dudes work.
I feel for my friends. I really do. For one, we're all home-schooled, and that sets us back about ten notches in social life already. Two, its a small town, so take away about five more notches; and three: I am the only one who has interaction with the opposite sex on a regular day-to-day basis. Not counting dads.
What irks me- really irks me- is how much I see girls trying to act like they're pure blood "tomboys" lately. Not just my boy-starved (did I really just say that?) friends, either. Really, what's so wrong with being a little girly sometimes? In fact, there's nothing wrong with being a little of both. But don't try and say that you "never act like a chick", because that just makes me want to scream.
Today I'm going to clear up a few popular myths about the "Guy's Girl".
1. Adding a "favorite sport" or "favorite athlete" to your Facebook profile.
Seriously, guys? There are lots of girls who like sports. Saying that the New England Patriots are "sooooo keeewwlll" does not qualify you as a tomboy. The same principle goes for saying that you like football. Sitting on the bleachers and cheering on the boys in jerseys does not change the fact that you are a girl sometimes. Unless you can prove your lack of femininity by getting out there and throwing a clean spiral. In that case, I commend you.
2. "Oh, I get along with guys better than girls. All my friends are guys*."
I hear this all the time. 99.99999% of the time, ^that is total bull crap. As for the other .000001%, you speak for yourself. As far as I'm concerned, a girl will always feel a little more comfortable with her girlfriends than with guy friends. Its not bad- its just nature. Besides, even if it were true... it makes you a flirt, not a tomboy.
*One of my friends actually told me this was the real, legit reason why they are full-on tomboys.
3. "I can play video games. Therefore I am a tomboy."
Playing MarioKart does not make you a gamer. End of story.
4. "I hate shopping."
Possibly one of the lamest reasons ever. Being a woman (and this is not any sort of feminist rant, or anything), being a woman does not automatically mean you like shopping and clothes. There are a lot of girls out there who aren't "tomboys", and they don't enjoy spending 2 hours at Macy's for a shoe sale. Even more to the point, I know of at least 3 of my guy friends who actually do enjoy shopping occasionally. Saying that shopping is a gender-defining activity has to be one of the most annoying pet peeves of mine.
5. Taking a picture of yourself with a jersey team sweatshirt on.
Oh myyy goodd. Every time a girl titles one of those pictures with "Hee hee... just me being a tomboy", a baby seal is poached.
When I say this stuff, I am in no way implying that girls who do this stuff aren't somewhat tomboyish. I just think that girls who do this stuff and then deny being girly at times are total liars. Every girl will act girly, and tomboyish in their life. Urgh... no further comments.
Translate: I am so, so, so glad that I can at least have some minor grasp of understanding how dudes work.
I feel for my friends. I really do. For one, we're all home-schooled, and that sets us back about ten notches in social life already. Two, its a small town, so take away about five more notches; and three: I am the only one who has interaction with the opposite sex on a regular day-to-day basis. Not counting dads.
What irks me- really irks me- is how much I see girls trying to act like they're pure blood "tomboys" lately. Not just my boy-starved (did I really just say that?) friends, either. Really, what's so wrong with being a little girly sometimes? In fact, there's nothing wrong with being a little of both. But don't try and say that you "never act like a chick", because that just makes me want to scream.
Today I'm going to clear up a few popular myths about the "Guy's Girl".
1. Adding a "favorite sport" or "favorite athlete" to your Facebook profile.
Seriously, guys? There are lots of girls who like sports. Saying that the New England Patriots are "sooooo keeewwlll" does not qualify you as a tomboy. The same principle goes for saying that you like football. Sitting on the bleachers and cheering on the boys in jerseys does not change the fact that you are a girl sometimes. Unless you can prove your lack of femininity by getting out there and throwing a clean spiral. In that case, I commend you.
2. "Oh, I get along with guys better than girls. All my friends are guys*."
I hear this all the time. 99.99999% of the time, ^that is total bull crap. As for the other .000001%, you speak for yourself. As far as I'm concerned, a girl will always feel a little more comfortable with her girlfriends than with guy friends. Its not bad- its just nature. Besides, even if it were true... it makes you a flirt, not a tomboy.
*One of my friends actually told me this was the real, legit reason why they are full-on tomboys.
3. "I can play video games. Therefore I am a tomboy."
Playing MarioKart does not make you a gamer. End of story.
4. "I hate shopping."
Possibly one of the lamest reasons ever. Being a woman (and this is not any sort of feminist rant, or anything), being a woman does not automatically mean you like shopping and clothes. There are a lot of girls out there who aren't "tomboys", and they don't enjoy spending 2 hours at Macy's for a shoe sale. Even more to the point, I know of at least 3 of my guy friends who actually do enjoy shopping occasionally. Saying that shopping is a gender-defining activity has to be one of the most annoying pet peeves of mine.
5. Taking a picture of yourself with a jersey team sweatshirt on.
Oh myyy goodd. Every time a girl titles one of those pictures with "Hee hee... just me being a tomboy", a baby seal is poached.
When I say this stuff, I am in no way implying that girls who do this stuff aren't somewhat tomboyish. I just think that girls who do this stuff and then deny being girly at times are total liars. Every girl will act girly, and tomboyish in their life. Urgh... no further comments.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Jump-Starting the Year
With every new year comes change, but sometimes it's more drastic one year from the next. 2012 is bringing in more new challenges this first week than 2011 did in six months for me. In a span of 9 days I got registered for 3 races, and I became a vegan.
Talk about jump starting the year!
So-o-o, I can say for a certainty that I'm nervous... very nervous. I already committed to doing the mud run this June, with my fitness-obsessed Aunt Chanelle and my friend Akela. Because they live 5 hours away, our collaborating on training will have to be Skyped. Knowing that it's up to me to make sure I train and build muscle and endurance is a little intimidating, especially since that's not the only thing on my plate.
Mom and I plan on running the Seattle Rock & Roll Half Marathon (13 miles, in case you didn't know). Luckily we made a pact to go to the gym as much as possible and train with each other. She already has a master regimen planned out-- but then again, there's my mother for you!
Then- as if those two things aren't scary enough- I'm also running a full marathon this October, in Portland!
3 races. 3 grueling fitness challenges that will test my body to it limit. When I pull through- as I'm sure I will- I will only have my training partners to thank. And that stubborn disposition of mine... What's it called... ambition?
As regards to my newly-vegan status- that actually just started today. Last July I pledged to a month of vegetarianism, and I powered through that with little or no trouble. It surprised me how easy it was to drop extra weight by cutting out meat. This time, I've taken a step up by cutting out all animal products- and for 100 days!
Many friends and family- not just me- have decided to do this 100-day challenge. Sky and Dakota have both decided to completely raw vegan as well- only fruits, veggies, and nuts- and my Mom will be doing another juice fast like the one she just completed in November.
It's inspiring to me that so many people are really stepping it up to start 2012 off the right way. By the time 2013 shows up, I want zero regrets. I want to be able to say with confidence that I did all I could this year. And then I can set more goals for the ones to follow.
I'm going to rock my year.
So my question is this... can you?
Talk about jump starting the year!
So-o-o, I can say for a certainty that I'm nervous... very nervous. I already committed to doing the mud run this June, with my fitness-obsessed Aunt Chanelle and my friend Akela. Because they live 5 hours away, our collaborating on training will have to be Skyped. Knowing that it's up to me to make sure I train and build muscle and endurance is a little intimidating, especially since that's not the only thing on my plate.
Mom and I plan on running the Seattle Rock & Roll Half Marathon (13 miles, in case you didn't know). Luckily we made a pact to go to the gym as much as possible and train with each other. She already has a master regimen planned out-- but then again, there's my mother for you!
Then- as if those two things aren't scary enough- I'm also running a full marathon this October, in Portland!
3 races. 3 grueling fitness challenges that will test my body to it limit. When I pull through- as I'm sure I will- I will only have my training partners to thank. And that stubborn disposition of mine... What's it called... ambition?
As regards to my newly-vegan status- that actually just started today. Last July I pledged to a month of vegetarianism, and I powered through that with little or no trouble. It surprised me how easy it was to drop extra weight by cutting out meat. This time, I've taken a step up by cutting out all animal products- and for 100 days!
Many friends and family- not just me- have decided to do this 100-day challenge. Sky and Dakota have both decided to completely raw vegan as well- only fruits, veggies, and nuts- and my Mom will be doing another juice fast like the one she just completed in November.
It's inspiring to me that so many people are really stepping it up to start 2012 off the right way. By the time 2013 shows up, I want zero regrets. I want to be able to say with confidence that I did all I could this year. And then I can set more goals for the ones to follow.
I'm going to rock my year.
So my question is this... can you?
Thursday, January 5, 2012
How To Eat a Baguette
This is an experience I will share- albeit a little shamefully- about my service morning in Kirkland with Chanelle. It's funny how things have a way of getting back at you sometimes. Today I learned that humility overrules humor at the most inconvenient of times.
Our morning started off cheerfully despite the light drizzle of notorious Puget Sound weather. Clouds gathered overhead but we marched cheerfully to our car group shielding the literature from any stray rain drops, should they try and sneak their way through our guard. I sat up front with Chanelle, breathlessly greeted the brothers who had kindly sacrificed their front seats for us, and the morning began.
We weren't three calls into the ministry when it was established that the almost-illustrious coffee break was in order. So we parked outside of QFC and went in search for a Starbucks pick-me-up.
Chanelle detoured to pick up string cheese- you know, the little three-bite pieces of mozzarella for Lunchables and whiny toddlers- claiming near starvation due to lack of breakfast. Then, armed with her two string cheeses, she promptly informed me that she was also going to get a roll to have with them.
So I took a look at the Starbucks menu while she went hunting for those. When she came back, I did a double-take. She was carrying an entire baguette!
"I'm guessing they didn't have bread rolls?" I asked, raising an eyebrow almost mockingly. She said they did not. She said that she still wanted to have some bread to enjoy with her cheese.
I quickly pointed out that her ratio of bread to cheese was way off, but that didn't phase my apparently bread-ravenous Aunt. So we got our coffees, picked up the change, and resumed service as before.
Well I just couldn't stop teasing her about that baguette. My witty repertoire would not be exhausted. Even the guys in the back seat were chiming in after a while, asking if she might want a gallon or two of wine to go with her bread and cheese.
"If this were France or Italy, no one would be questioning me at all," Chanelle grumbled, ripping off a chunk.
The brothers in the back seat called on a man at roughly 11:45, and that was the turning point, because that call seriously lasted an hour. The clock stretched all the way to 12:40, and then I heard it.
Grumble... grumble...
My stomach was sounding the alarm. A none-to-gentle reminder that I hadn't eaten since the small bowl of oatmeal earlier in the morning. I tried to ignore it at first, my dignity too stubborn to let reality sink in, but eventually I had to give in. And so, turning humbly towards Chanelle, I dropped my head in shame.
"Is there any of that baguette left?"
A symphony of trumpets could not have competed against the sound of my aunt's laughter ringing mercilessly. I then proceeded to scarf down roughly a third of the baguette which was left. For the rest of the time I remained totally silent, bitterly cursing my feeble stomach.
So I guess you could say I learned a lesson in humility. If ever there was anything I could advise you, it would be this-
Never underestimate the power of irony.
Our morning started off cheerfully despite the light drizzle of notorious Puget Sound weather. Clouds gathered overhead but we marched cheerfully to our car group shielding the literature from any stray rain drops, should they try and sneak their way through our guard. I sat up front with Chanelle, breathlessly greeted the brothers who had kindly sacrificed their front seats for us, and the morning began.
We weren't three calls into the ministry when it was established that the almost-illustrious coffee break was in order. So we parked outside of QFC and went in search for a Starbucks pick-me-up.
Chanelle detoured to pick up string cheese- you know, the little three-bite pieces of mozzarella for Lunchables and whiny toddlers- claiming near starvation due to lack of breakfast. Then, armed with her two string cheeses, she promptly informed me that she was also going to get a roll to have with them.
So I took a look at the Starbucks menu while she went hunting for those. When she came back, I did a double-take. She was carrying an entire baguette!
"I'm guessing they didn't have bread rolls?" I asked, raising an eyebrow almost mockingly. She said they did not. She said that she still wanted to have some bread to enjoy with her cheese.
I quickly pointed out that her ratio of bread to cheese was way off, but that didn't phase my apparently bread-ravenous Aunt. So we got our coffees, picked up the change, and resumed service as before.
Well I just couldn't stop teasing her about that baguette. My witty repertoire would not be exhausted. Even the guys in the back seat were chiming in after a while, asking if she might want a gallon or two of wine to go with her bread and cheese.
"If this were France or Italy, no one would be questioning me at all," Chanelle grumbled, ripping off a chunk.
The brothers in the back seat called on a man at roughly 11:45, and that was the turning point, because that call seriously lasted an hour. The clock stretched all the way to 12:40, and then I heard it.
Grumble... grumble...
My stomach was sounding the alarm. A none-to-gentle reminder that I hadn't eaten since the small bowl of oatmeal earlier in the morning. I tried to ignore it at first, my dignity too stubborn to let reality sink in, but eventually I had to give in. And so, turning humbly towards Chanelle, I dropped my head in shame.
"Is there any of that baguette left?"
A symphony of trumpets could not have competed against the sound of my aunt's laughter ringing mercilessly. I then proceeded to scarf down roughly a third of the baguette which was left. For the rest of the time I remained totally silent, bitterly cursing my feeble stomach.
So I guess you could say I learned a lesson in humility. If ever there was anything I could advise you, it would be this-
Never underestimate the power of irony.
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