Response:
"Oh yeah... I was shy once too, but I got over it and just don't care."
Reality:
Life as a teacher, gamer geek, wanna-be artist, introspective nerd.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Sunday, August 12, 2012
OMG... You are so Skinny (%$#%&).
Being introverted and having extreme social anxiety, I am
often confused by the nuances of social interaction. I often require a lot of contemplation before
I realize if someone is being snide, thoughtful, sarcastic, funny, or
mean.
If I am secure enough in being justly confused, I’ve learned to be very
honest about that confusion.
This helps me from being very resentful later and assuming
that whoever I was talking to MUST have been making fun of me.
Other times, I am unsure as to whether I am confused, and I
stare blankly, unable to formulate a response.
This inability to interact with others in any sort of natural way has
greatly prohibited me in formulating friendships. Basically, my awkwardness is so great that
people tend to *get* that they shouldn’t try small talk with me.
That said, I’ve still somehow managed to form small little pockets
of friends and acquaintances. One thing
that is new to me is friendships with women.
This means I now have entirely new areas of social interaction to
be utterly confused over.
I’ve probably mentioned in the past that I have body
issues. No matter what my size, it is
very difficult for me to not see someone grotesquely fat in the mirror.
Well, I recently went to lunch with some of
my work friends. We hadn’t seen each
other since school let out two months ago.
About five minutes into conversation, one of the ladies tells me
I’ve gotten very skinny over the summer.
Logically, I knew I had not lost any weight since they’d seen me
last, but what a great word!
Then another woman chimed in saying, “Yeah, I
hated you for a minute when I walked in... :D.”
And it was just then that I saw a flash in her eyes that told me
She
Was
NOT
Kidding…
How do I process that? Then I remembered there was no need to panic. I’ve seen this kind of thing on TV before,
and I was pretty sure this was how women showed they liked each
other.
Pretty sure…
So I took it as a natural girl thing. This is how we women communicate
with each other. I gave an awkward
smile, and, not wanting to come off as egotistical, I decided the logical
course of action was to clear up the confusion.
Then there would be no secret hatred.
And I would not be getting all this attention. (Did I mention I have yet to learn how to
take a compliment?)
I informed them I had not lost weight since they last
saw me, and I even gained a little bit.
It was obviously my great new shirt, which, in all of its super-cuteness
glory, made me look skinnier. No, they
corrected me. I was wrong. They said my arms looked skinnier, so I
pulled up my sleeve and showed them my arm had indeed not become
skinnier. They informed me I was wrong
again.
Not wanting to be like one of those stupid skinny girls who
walk around all skinny and obnoxious and seeking praise by telling everyone how
fat they are so everyone else is forced to compliment them…
I decided to do the
unthinkable.
Now, I am not really sure why in my head this seemed like
the right course of action, but I then became certain that if I collected the
strength and courage to tell them my real weight, all this awkward, odd
compliment-ness would come to an end and I would be out of this hole I dug
myself into of trying to convince these women I did not become skinny.
So I said it…
This did not help me.
They then mocked my courage, and laughed about how yeah, sure, they
all weigh that amount too (insinuating they definitely did not weigh that amount).
I am thinking, in the future, the right response might just
be, “Thank You, and I love your hair!”
Perhaps I need to watch some more TV to help me
prepare.
_______________________________________________________
All photos and drawings are by me. They may not be amazing, but they are mine. If you share them, please share where you got them.
_______________________________________________________
All photos and drawings are by me. They may not be amazing, but they are mine. If you share them, please share where you got them.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Newest Drawing
Some people say that drawings made from photographs are not art.
Some people act as though I am being self-deprecating or fishing for compliments if I explain in advance that I used a photo.
Either way, here is my latest drawing. It is from a photo that I took. I had a lot of fun drawing it.
I even bought a new sketch pad. It is huge!
The end.
All photos and drawings are mine. Please do not steal them. I am a poor teacher. If you share them, please share where you got them.
Friday, August 10, 2012
On the Perils of Stress and the Joys of Organization
Oh Gaaaaaaawd.
Schoooooooool is starting again.
Oh nooooooeeeeees.
GAAAAAWWWWWWWW.
Yeah, that's right. It is a week before I have to go back to the world of being an adult.
Growing up, I simply assumed that adults had their stuff together. I was especially certain that people as high up as teachers had to have it together (whatever "it" was.... honestly, I figured that "it" was opened up for us once we reached a certain age, like, through some Divine intervention or something).
Perhaps this flawed belief was all part of my inability to question the world around me. Personally, I have had many moments in the last few years that prompted me to stop in my tracks and wonder how the heck I got here. How did I become an adult? How did I get a grown-up job? How am I in charge of the the education of these children?
I assumed there would be some grand moment when it would become very clear... that I would become, know, feel, understand, and be at home in adulthood. Many cultures do have such crossing-over rituals, but I wonder, when the children are done hunting the bear, getting the proper piercings, participating in the proper ceremonies, do they then KNOW they are adults? Do they feel it in their souls and deep within the marrow of their bones? I ask this because I know I don't feel it. I understand it, but I don't have an internalized sense of it inside of me.
So every year I begin stressing out about the school year to come.
Summer spoils me. I am naturally introverted (like, seriously, devoutly, introverted), so while I occasionally enjoy summer in much the same way as normal people would, the parts I seem to relish most include sleeping in until eleven, staying up late, listening to music, drawing, reading, and so on. Mostly my activities involve being with me.
And really... what I really enjoy most... is not having responsibility. I loooooooooove not having responsibilities. I am in love with not having responsibility. If I saw not having responsibility at a party, I would totally make out with it.
As a side note, It frequently slips my mind that most people, in fact, do not actually have summers off. This fact usually pops in my head mid-way through bumming out on people about having to go back to work, and I see the look in their eyes that reminds me about how they have been working full time for the last two months.
...my bad.
Along with being introverted, I am also very neurotic.
I take responsibility and I run at it so hard that I become completely exhausted by the time I complete any given responsibility. Then I handle the other responsibilities on the list just as dramatically. Though I have been working on being happy with myself for doing an ok or a good job instead of the BEST JOB THEY HAVE EVER SEEEEEEEEEEEEEENNN each and every time I do any given job!
So yeah, summer is at an end, which means waking up five days a week at 6:00 a.m. (poor me), being on time, lesson planning out the wazoo, planning for any possible event that could happen, staying late, feeling behind, being frustrated with myself, having a large to-do list, having to complete each item of said to-do list on time... and often (I am learning) *before* on time.
This last year has been a lesson in what "on time" means. Apparently, the concept of due dates means something very different to me than what it means to others. I've found that waiting to turn paperwork in on time simply leads to multiple "reminder" emails in the days before the due date reminding me that the due date is getting ever closer until said e-mails get panicky,
then depressing,
then passive-aggressive,
and then...
aggressive.
Yes, I have been learning this past year that in the grown-up world due dates are actually seen as the last-possible minute by those who would like for me to be turning things in. Applying this knowledge in the coming year, however, will still be quite the task. You tell me that you need something Tuesday, my natural inclination is to turn it in Tuesday.
BAD inclination!
So I got a super-sweet calendar. It is made just for teachers.
My plan is to mark a good time to turn in various tasks (days before the due date) as well as the last possible minute (i.e. in my world... the due date). Perhaps this attempt at keeping myself on task will actually stick.
It even has a plethora of fabulous stickers.
And these wonderful lines, so I can make lists. I fully intend to color-coordinate these lists.
I am going to be so organized. For about a month, at least, but hopefully for longer.
*Sigh* We shall see. But when/if the calendar fails, I also have a desk calendar, a planner, color-coordinated paper clips, and an unspeakable amount of Post-It Notes and filing tabs. Maybe one day I will reveal my extreme office-supply obsession.
Hehe, "Your office-supply obsession sounds fascinating." said no one ever.
Here is hoping for a well-organized year!
Schoooooooool is starting again.
Oh nooooooeeeeees.
GAAAAAWWWWWWWW.
Yeah, that's right. It is a week before I have to go back to the world of being an adult.
Growing up, I simply assumed that adults had their stuff together. I was especially certain that people as high up as teachers had to have it together (whatever "it" was.... honestly, I figured that "it" was opened up for us once we reached a certain age, like, through some Divine intervention or something).
 |
| Gandalf saves the day! |
Perhaps this flawed belief was all part of my inability to question the world around me. Personally, I have had many moments in the last few years that prompted me to stop in my tracks and wonder how the heck I got here. How did I become an adult? How did I get a grown-up job? How am I in charge of the the education of these children?
I assumed there would be some grand moment when it would become very clear... that I would become, know, feel, understand, and be at home in adulthood. Many cultures do have such crossing-over rituals, but I wonder, when the children are done hunting the bear, getting the proper piercings, participating in the proper ceremonies, do they then KNOW they are adults? Do they feel it in their souls and deep within the marrow of their bones? I ask this because I know I don't feel it. I understand it, but I don't have an internalized sense of it inside of me.
So every year I begin stressing out about the school year to come.
Summer spoils me. I am naturally introverted (like, seriously, devoutly, introverted), so while I occasionally enjoy summer in much the same way as normal people would, the parts I seem to relish most include sleeping in until eleven, staying up late, listening to music, drawing, reading, and so on. Mostly my activities involve being with me.
And really... what I really enjoy most... is not having responsibility. I loooooooooove not having responsibilities. I am in love with not having responsibility. If I saw not having responsibility at a party, I would totally make out with it.
As a side note, It frequently slips my mind that most people, in fact, do not actually have summers off. This fact usually pops in my head mid-way through bumming out on people about having to go back to work, and I see the look in their eyes that reminds me about how they have been working full time for the last two months.
...my bad.
Along with being introverted, I am also very neurotic.
I take responsibility and I run at it so hard that I become completely exhausted by the time I complete any given responsibility. Then I handle the other responsibilities on the list just as dramatically. Though I have been working on being happy with myself for doing an ok or a good job instead of the BEST JOB THEY HAVE EVER SEEEEEEEEEEEEEENNN each and every time I do any given job!
So yeah, summer is at an end, which means waking up five days a week at 6:00 a.m. (poor me), being on time, lesson planning out the wazoo, planning for any possible event that could happen, staying late, feeling behind, being frustrated with myself, having a large to-do list, having to complete each item of said to-do list on time... and often (I am learning) *before* on time.
 |
| Can not unsee! |
then depressing,
then passive-aggressive,
and then...
aggressive.
Yes, I have been learning this past year that in the grown-up world due dates are actually seen as the last-possible minute by those who would like for me to be turning things in. Applying this knowledge in the coming year, however, will still be quite the task. You tell me that you need something Tuesday, my natural inclination is to turn it in Tuesday.
BAD inclination!
So I got a super-sweet calendar. It is made just for teachers.
My plan is to mark a good time to turn in various tasks (days before the due date) as well as the last possible minute (i.e. in my world... the due date). Perhaps this attempt at keeping myself on task will actually stick.
It even has a plethora of fabulous stickers.
And these wonderful lines, so I can make lists. I fully intend to color-coordinate these lists.
I am going to be so organized. For about a month, at least, but hopefully for longer.
*Sigh* We shall see. But when/if the calendar fails, I also have a desk calendar, a planner, color-coordinated paper clips, and an unspeakable amount of Post-It Notes and filing tabs. Maybe one day I will reveal my extreme office-supply obsession.
Hehe, "Your office-supply obsession sounds fascinating." said no one ever.
Here is hoping for a well-organized year!
Cat Photo-
http://www.flickr.com/photos/mastrobiggo/with/5075891135/#photo_5075891135 *Really cool photographer
Hate Drawing-
All the rest of the photos and drawing are mine. I get that they are not particularlly fascinating or well done, or artistic, but please don't steal them without sharing where you got them.
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