John Green Is Better Than Me At Everything

Back when I worked at the bookstore, I would read magazines on my lunch break.  I often found myself reading the book reviews in Entertainment Weekly and I came across a review of a book with an interesting looking cover and a more interesting title.  The book was called "Looking for Alaska" and it was getting a lot of attention.  I made a quick mental note to check out a copy, and then promptly forgot all about it for roughly 8 years.  Then Youtube happened.  And Vlogbrothers happened and I realized that this guy I had read about years ago is starting to be just about everywhere.  So I read the books.  I won't lie, I don't love all of them.  In fact, I might not even love most of them, but what I do love is John Green.

I've been following the Vlogbrothers videos for a while now, and I've been following the many side projects that John and his brother Hank have been working on over the years that Vlogbrothers has evolved and gathered such a huge following that this week they managed to pack Carnegie Hall with fans.  I want to point out this is a sold out event, at Carnegie Hall, for an author.  What the what?!  And not an author who has been around for ages like Neil Gaiman or Terry Pratchett.  No, this is a guy who is relatively new on the scene, and writes books for young adults.  He packed a theater with kids who like to read.  And, unlike his fellow young adult author Stephenie Meyer, he writes books with substance.  They mean something.  And that was just the start.  After creating literature for young people that teaches love, compassion, understanding, while at the same time respecting grief and the fragility of life, he decided to change the world.  He and Hank either head up or support several charitable organizations, and they encourage their fans to follow their lead in the quest to decrease world suck.  They are creating an army of young people who are focused on compassion and selflessness. 

Beyond that, they're both entertaining as hell, and when I watch John's videos I want to be a better person.  He is painfully introspective, and his thoughts on the vast variety of topics he covers are insightful and intelligent.  He talks about literature in a way I've never experienced, and I was a stinking literature major.  He's a better English teacher than I am, and I went to school for teaching.  He takes books I hate and presents them in a way that makes me actually feel guilty for not loving them as much as he does.  Most days, I just sort of wish I was able to do that with a fraction of the effectiveness he does.

I think what impresses me the most about John is that he inspires me.  I'm a pretty cynical and often negative individual.  I am not one to give the world the benefit of the doubt, but somehow when I see all of the good that has come to this world through something as simple as a video blog on youtube, I want to find a way to bring good into the world too.  I want to be a better person, but I want to help create a world of good people.  I want to find something I love and am passionate about and run with it.  I want to create something bigger than myself, and then watch what happens as it takes off.  He makes me want to go back to writing.  He makes me want to create instead of just exist.  And, on some level, this inspiration also makes me less afraid of failing, because failure is part of learning. 

So thanks John, for being so awesome.  Please leave some awesomeness in the world for the rest of us.

Holding the Mess Together

I don't blog often about my marriage, mostly because I feel like people who are constantly blogging or posting about how great their spouse is are mostly trying to convince themselves that their spouse is great.  I feel like all of that "I have the greatest husband ever" talk is usually trying to prove to someone that not only is it true, but also that they actually believe it's true.  So, for the most part, I just don't say anything.  I feel like if my marriage is good, people see it, I don't need to tell them.

That being said, I'm going to break my norm right now and just take a moment to say how much I appreciate that Jason both loves and accepts my particular brand of crazy.  Anyone who gets to see past the surface with me begins to understand that below the surface is a tempest.  I'm a serious mess about 99% of the time, and sometimes I feel like I'm one loose thread away from that mess spilling out all over the place, and splashing into all parts of my life.  That's why it's nice to have Jason there, sewing the loose threads back together, making a perfectly beautiful rag doll out of the mess of scraps that make up the whole of me.  I don't have to ask, he just knows, and he fixes.  I'm grateful for his ability to see the weaknesses, and work on helping me patch and fix them while at the same time turning a blind eye to the fact that they exist.  It's nice to have someone who can do that, and who never holds it against you.

If I'm going to be entirely honest, I'm not as good at patching his wounds as he is at patching mine.  I'm rash and judgmental with absolutely everyone in my life, including him.  I think I have the best intentions, but I'm pretty famous for doing everything all wrong, and even my efforts to "help" end up hurting.  I sort of wish I had his ability to say just the right thing, and to know exactly how to handle every situation.  Maybe it's just that when he isn't keeping the mess inside me, it spills out and splashes all over him, and then he has to clean my mess off him while still dealing with his own.  I think that it's not until I realize how much it must take for him to keep me from always falling apart that I also realize how hard that must be, and how he must feel like a mess sometimes too and he's just left with me and my clumsiness to help him through it.

Sometimes I think that's what is hardest for me.  Wanting to be everything for him that he is for me, and failing time and time again.  Wanting to do and say the right things, and instead being myself.  It's when I try to help him, and inevitably fail, that I realize how much I appreciate that I never have to worry about whether he can be my rock.  He's what keeps me going, and I probably don't say how much I appreciate it often enough.  I also don't apologize for being so bad at helping him the way he helps me as often as I should.  But the bottom line is, he's responsible for me being the presentable and coherent person I am most of the time.  He gets me, and he doesn't judge.  I appreciate it.  I just don't say it enough.

O-bla-di, o-bla-da...

Lately I've been thinking that one of the things I like most about the world is that it exists.  I like that this vast planet of diverse locations and cultures exists.  I like that no matter what happens on any given day, and no matter how bad your day might be, life will still go on and there will always be tomorrow.  I've mostly been thinking this because a lot of the students I work with are applying for college and stressing out about their acceptances, worried that their futures might be ruined by the answer that lies in their collegiate stamped envelope.  As much as I understand how important it is to get into college and to finish a degree so that you have the right footing for entering the job market, I still find myself wanting to remind these kids that no matter what school they get into, the point is that they're going to school.  No matter what disappointments lie ahead for them with not getting into their first choice, or not being able to go away when they really wanted to live away from home, or not being able to afford the dream school they might have wanted to go to, the point is that life will go on.  School will still be school, and the point will be that they're going, and they are going to have opportunities open to them regardless of what school they attend.  They should simply be proud of themselves for making the effort to attend in the first place.  When they finish that first semester, it's not going to matter if it was the dream school, or if it was a semester spent living at home or in a dorm.  What's going to matter is that they made it over the hump.  They made it through the challenge of finishing that first semester of college, and it gets easier from there.  Sometimes I just want to remind them that while everyone is telling them that their entire future is on the line, this one decision isn't going to decide their life forever.  They still have choices, they still have options, they still have opportunities.  I just want to tell them to keep calm, and life goes on.

It's Oh So Quiet, It's Oh So Still

Most of the time, my house is busy.  It's full of people, it's full of pets.  Quiet moments in my house are few and far between.  It's made me appreciate stolen moments of quiet in my life.  Every once in a while, I find that I'm the first person up in the morning, and if I leave the dogs locked in the bedroom with Jason, I can steal away downstairs to the living room and enjoy a few minutes of uninterrupted quiet.  Even nicer is when I somehow manage to be the only person in the house still awake in the evening.  Something about being in the house at night, when the whole world is quiet and still makes me feel comforted.  I can just sit in the living room, cloaked in the semi-darkness provided by lighting one single lamp, and enjoy the peace.  I can sip a cup of tea, wrap up in a blanket and know that this short moment of silence and tranquility is mine.  I don't have to share it, I don't have to discuss it with anyone.  I can just listen to it, and appreciate it for the brief span of time that it will last before a dog barks, or someone comes downstairs for a glass of water, or the cats begin chasing one another.  This short time belongs to me, and I can envelope myself in it for as long as I wish.  I like knowing that even in the constant hum of our noisy lives in this house, there are moments that I can carve out just for me.

Betty Freaking Crocker

So if you had asked me 10 years ago what I thought my future hobbies might be, I never would have told you cooking.  I'm the girl who spent most of her life as the pickiest eater on the planet.  If it wasn't chicken fingers or french fries, chances are I wasn't going to touch it.  I've never been a foodie, or someone willing to try new things, and when I moved out of my parents house I knew how to make grilled cheese, boil pasta, and I could make waffles.  That was about it.  I'm not sure when I started being interested in learning to cook, but somewhere along the line I found myself with odd hours of free time when there was nothing on television worth watching and suddenly I was watching hours and hours of Food Network.  Sure, i wouldn't heat about 90% of what they were making on most of those shows, but everything seemed so easy, and when the episode was over, the food looked good.  Almost good enough for me to consider wanting to taste it.  At some point, I decided that I probably could make more than grilled cheese, and when Jason was complaining about being bored with our usual dinner choices, I decided I was going to take a chance and try something totally different.  Since that ended up a success I just kept trying more and more new things.  I decided that if I wasn't afraid of doing it, then the worst that could happen is that I'd waste a bit of flour and move on.

Now, at this point, as much as I might find the act of figuring out what to make for dinner annoying, and as much as I hate having to come home and immediately start dinner, there is something strangely therapeutic about the act of putting together a grouping of simple items and making something that people enjoy.  Chopping vegetables, or boiling pasta, or grilling chicken is mindless.  Simple.  Follow the right steps, you get the right outcome.  I like the predictability of it.  Plus, when not burdened with the task of figuring out meals, I still find myself drawn to the kitchen to bake something.  I like the way dough feels when it's being kneaded.  I like the smell  of it as I shape it out.  I like that my house smells like baking bread.  I like producing cakes, cupcakes, cookies, bread loaves, homemade icing, and having it turn into something that makes people happy, or makes people smile when they come home and find treats.

I never expected that this is what I would turn to as a hobby, or something I do when I want to relax and not think about much.  When life is complicated, cooking doesn't have to be.  You mix the right ingredients, and you get the right outcome.  You can always adjust to make it just right.  There's comfort in the predictability.  There's comfort in knowing that a little more flour will fix a sticky situation, and if you make a mistake, it's not so hard to start over again.  I like that in as little as 30 minutes, I can make someone's day better just by feeding them.  Sure, I still don't eat beef, or tomatoes, or a ton of other things, but what I do eat I can cook pretty darn well, and there's comfort in that.

Reflections On A Year Past

Last year I wrote this not-so-inspiring list of resolutions for myself in 2012.  I probably should have included surviving the predicted end of the world on that list.  I did survive the predicted end of the world, by the way.  In case anyone was worried.  Looking back at last January and the goals that I set, I find that while I was more successful in some areas than others, the biggest things that were nagging at me as 2011 ended are no longer issues this year as I find 2012 coming to a close.  I think that, more than anything, I've been able to make peace with myself over this past year.  Not one of those super awesome inner peace feelings where you're suddenly super confident and know what to do in all situations, but the kind that at least makes you realize that being yourself isn't as bad as you've been led to believe.  I realized this year that I've spent a lot of time allowing others to dictate my self-worth for me.  I took their poor behavior and mistreatment of me as a sign that I was somehow broken, or wrong, or ill fitted for the world I was living in, and it made me feel terrible.  I let myself believe that when others were bad friends who simply stopped speaking to me for months at a time, or when my values were criticized, or when my world outlook didn't fit what someone else thought it should be, that the problem was rooted somewhere deep within myself, and I was in the wrong.  I never allowed myself to think that someone being a terrible friend was perhaps their fault, or that my values not fitting what someone else believed they should be was a problem they had with my value system, not an actual problem with me.  I had gone so long believing that I wasn't worthy of anything good, that I think I stopped looking for anything good to happen, or for anyone to treat me as a true friend instead of someone they needed to "fix" or change.  I am not broken.  I. Am. Not. Broken.

Making that journey this year has been terrifying and liberating.  It has given me the strength to remove those who do not deserve a place in my life, no matter how close they were to my heart at one time.  It has given me the strength to stand up for myself, to refuse to be bullied, and to refuse to constantly bend and reshape to be who someone else thinks I should be, because it is easier for them.  It has also opened my eyes to some really wonderful people who have never asked me to be anything more or less than what I am, and that removing someone bad doesn't mean that no one else will fill the hole.  I realize now that those who truly care about you are those you know are there in a pinch, who share your joys and your sorrows, your ups and downs, and if there is someone out there who does not fulfill that then it's ok to move on and find others who will.

This year has, without a doubt, been a struggle.  My family has been slandered, ridiculed, betrayed, mistreated and hurt beyond measure.  Wounds have been open that I'm not sure will ever really heal, and there are voids in our lives that are not easily filled.  I miss our work with the drama department daily, and I love those children as much as I possibly can, but I'm slowly accepting that there are things that will never be changed, no matter how unjust they are.  It's a hard pill to swallow, but it's the only one we're being prescribed lately so I feel like I either have to accept it or go mad.  This incident coupled with struggles at work, which have led to struggles at home has made me open my arms to a new year and a fresh start, and a new hope that just as the rug has been so swiftly pulled out from under us in the past, it can just as swiftly be replaced with a newer, better rug that sticks around for a good long time.

To be truthful though, despite the struggles and despite the discontent that has hovered at the edge of our lives throughout this past year, there have been some very beautiful bright spots.  The addition of Jasmine to our family has been one of my favorite things about this past year.  She made a transition into our lives as seamlessly as if she was meant to be there all along.  She plays the roles of daughter, sister, and friend every day, and she fills our lives with her eternal optimism and her cheerful nature.  I can't imagine why anyone wouldn't want her around all the time.  She brings light wherever she goes.  I  am so glad we have been able to help her along her journey into adulthood.  With Jasmine we have also added this quirky group to our lives that are like a second family.  We have taken a house and made it a home with the addition of people to our lives that have been around a long time, but now suddenly feel permanent and make us feel whole.  We now have former students who are just as dear to us as our own relatives, and it's really quite an amazing feeling.  Beyond that, we have been able to enjoy time with friends and family more this year than usual, since we're not constantly busy working on a show for someone else.  We have been able to expand our theater company, and perform more shows than expected.  We have been able to travel a little, and share our home with so many people who just needed a safe haven for a little while.  And movie club, which is awesome.  These bright points in a year that has felt dismal are really what has kept me going, and kept me moving forward toward something better, something happier, something that is out there waiting to be found.  I hope we find it.

Karma, Karma, Karma, Karma, Karma Chamelion

Sometimes I wonder if I believe in Karma.  Mostly, I have a hard time with it because I really want to believe that if you put enough good out into the world, you will receive good in return, but if you look at the big picture that is never what seems to happen.  I think the question we have to ask is who out there is deciding that something is "good" and once they do, how much good is "enough"?  It's a hard question to answer.  I know that this blog ventures into the realm of whining most of the time, but I find myself often asking "When the hell will I get a break?"  If I believed in Karma, I'd just sit and wait for the universe to give some of that "good" back to me, but the problem with that is that waiting really really sucks.  Plus, you never know when that return is going to happen, or if what you thought was "good" really wasn't good to the universe and therefore I've been thinking I'm building up all of this good karma for myself when in fact all I've been doing is a lot of "good deeds" that don't truly amount to much.  See the dilemma?  Karma, if it exists, is a real bitch.

None of this is to say that doing those good deeds is somehow being done with the intention of getting a payoff later.  I'm just saying that if the universe wanted to slip me a bone, I wouldn't say no.  I like to think that all of the volunteer work, and opening my home to wayward souls, and giving people a sense of family that they may not otherwise have is all good karma building stuff, but the truth of the matter is that I simply don't know what it is, other than good deeds.  I do it because I like to.  I am the constant fixer, I have to fix everyone and make everyone happy, and if I can't then I sort of start to feel like I have no worth.  So maybe that's my karma?  Feeling like I am worth something.  I don't know.  All I know is that as of late I've felt a whole lot like I've been getting kicked in the teeth by the universe, and I wouldn't mind getting some payback on that good karma sometime soon.