what does the movie Abduction, "Magic Eye" posters, icebergs, and earthquakes have to do with me?

While in this state of 'extended hiatus from the working world' (aka unemployment) I have had plenty of time to gather my thoughts and relax for more hours of the day than I ever thought possible. Not only have I been thinking, but also reading and watching movies. Sometimes you find inspiration in the strangest places, where at first glance they seem completely unrelated but then make perfect sense. Tonight's inspiration was the movie Abduction. For those unfamiliar with the movie, it's basically about this high school kid Nathan (Taylor Lautner) who, through a seemingly benign sociology assignment on missing children, discovers that his family and history is not quite what he thought it was.

This movie not only reminded me of certain aspects that are relevant to my own life, but also to those annoyingly popular "Magic Eye" posters from the '90s. I always hated seeing one of these things because it immediately drew everyone into it, and everyone shouting 'oh i see it!!!' and me pretending to figure it out, but never actually being able to see the damn hidden picture. It wasn't the first time I was unable to see what was right in front of me, the only thing I needed to do was to look a little closer to see the deeper picture.

From the "magic eye" posters I think about how sometimes you can look at something or someone familiar, something you have seen hundreds of times before and just know that something is not quite the same, just the least bit different, but you just can't quite put your finger on it. Then, when someone tells you what it is (so you like my new haircut?) you see it and think to yourself 'how on earth did I miss that'?

Furthermore, it brings me to the expression "just the tip of the iceberg" and the fact that you never quite know what is going on just below the surface just by looking at what is most obvious.

Most people would probably think what this has to do with the movie  Abduction and even more so what it has to do with my life. Well, first I would say that's because they don't know me well enough, but then I would add more explanation, after adding one more example of thoughts that arise. I have never been in an earthquake (knock on wood) but I have seen enough of them on television to know what they are all about. The basics of it are that there are these plates under the surface that, when they bump against each other, cause the earth above to shake and break (not to be confused with the pork chop seasoning brand shake and bake). Those living above ground may not have even realized a fault line was just below them until an earthquake hit. Others that know about the fault line are never quite sure when another one will hit. In between the earthquakes, everything seems sturdy. Buildings stay standing and streets are smooth. But then the moment arrives, when everything starts to shake. In that moment, whether the person knows about the fault line or not, no one knows exactly what is going to happen. How long will it last? How much destruction will it cause? Will my house still be in one piece?

Secrets, at least from my experiences, are a lot like fault lines. Those that know the secrets, like those that know the fault lines lying below the surface, are just holding their breath from moment to moment waiting for the moment to come when the earth begins to shake and the fault line makes itself known. For the ones the secrets are being kept from, they are like the people that have no idea there was a fault line until the earthquake occurred. Regardless of whether you are the secret keeper or the one from whom the secret is kept, or the know-er of the fault line or the caught-by-surprise earthquake survivor, one thing is sure: no one is ever the same. A fault line, like a secret, once exposed can never be hidden again.

Where am I going with this? Well, there is a lot more to me than meets the eye. The fault line has been discovered, and can never be re-hidden, but there are still people close to the fault line that are oblivious to it's existence. Like the person who can't quite put their finger on the slight difference in the appearance of a familiar object, I myself have had the experience of feeling as if something, however small, just didn't feel "right". And, in the way that the person responds once hearing what that difference is, I was dumbfounded by the fact that the truth had been staring at me all along, I just never knew it. I never looked further into the picture, never asked what it was that made me different. What differences would have been made to my current situation or even my very personality had I know the fault line was there all along?

So long 2011....Hello 2012

Tonight is far from my "usual" New Year's Eve. Well, in truth, I haven't had a really interesting or exciting New Year's Eve since we left New Jersey. But this year is quite different. My youngest sister is spending the holiday with her dad back in NJ, and my middle sister, who was supposed to stay here through the weekend, left yesterday with her boyfriend, because, well, we don't exactly all get along. But that's another story entirely. So here it is, 10:30ish EST on New Years Eve, and my mom and I are lounging on the couch in pajamas, flipping through the varying televised celebrations.

There is one bright spot, however, is that thanks to the powers of the internet and Skype, I can talk to the wonderfully amazing man JP that, although he is thousands of miles away, feels like he is right here.



*Note: I started writing this blog New Year's Eve. I intended to add on to it the next day, but haven't so I am posting it as-is.

Memory

I have kind of a strange memory. Not that anyone's memory can ever be perfect. There are just certain points in time and bits and pieces that I can remember clearly to this very day. Yet, if you ask me what I had for lunch last Tuesday, a guess would be as close as the truth. Why do I bring this up now? Well, a few reasons. Mainly it's because I've been home-a lot-lately and it's beginning to take a toll on me. In the beginning it was easy because I had school stuff to do and what not but as that winds down I have more and more time to ---think. And not just the day to day thinking-about-what-i-want-to-make-for-breakfast or the i-have-to-check-facebook-again thinking. It's the deep thinking. The scary thinking that looms in the shadows of my mind amid the anxieties and panic attacks. 

One such memory was triggered recently and this is an example of how my memory can be. See if you can keep up with this runaway train of thought: 

It is now towards the end of November. It's technically Thanksgiving actually because where I live it is currently 1:27 a.m. Thanksgiving means that it is almost December, which brings Christmas and New Year's Eve. This year we are turning from 2011 into 2012. The year 2012 brings me back to 1998. Yes, way back in the late 1900s. What's so special about 1998? That would be the year I started high school. The year I was taking World History with Mr. Steiger (a name that will remain in my subconscious for a lifetime because of the various rumors maintained about him, one was that basically any girl who wore a skirt while giving a presentation was almost always guaranteed an A). In that World History class we learned about the early peoples including the Mayans. Yes, those crazy ancient peoples of South America that devised some interesting concepts, one being a system of mathematics, and the other the infamous Mayan calendar. I remember learning in that classroom about the end of the Mayan calendar ending in 2012. I remember sitting in that class we all thought about how old we'd be by the time 2012 came around (mind you this was 14 years ago, so 2012 seemed lightyears away). I remember thinking, Hmm I'll be 28 by then. Married with a child or two. Living a pretty good life. And now I sit here and it's almost 2012. I just turned 27 and that means next year is the big 28. Am I married? Nope. Children? not by a longshot. And this brings us to where I am at now. 

I know that I won't be single and childless forever (especially not if JP has anything to say about it), but I still can't help feeling that I haven't lived up to my own expectations, and that can be rather unsettling. It's one thing not meeting other's expectations, but when you fall short of your own, you feel infinitely worse. This could be why my relatively stable mental state has recently boarded a rollercoaster and decided to have a little fun with me. I figure the best way to deal with all of this would be to release the thoughts from my mind and instead see them live and in print. What better place than in a blog? So here it is. It may not be eloquent, and it may never spark a best seller or movie of the year. But if it helps me to retain my sanity a bit longer, I'm all for it. Who knows, maybe someone will stumble across this post accidentally and be helped by it. I don't know. All I do know is that I will type it out, and continue to type it out in subsequent blog entries, and then hit post, so that it remains a permanent mark in cyberspace, that can be reviewed and revisited whenever I, or anyone else, so chooses. 

Trick or Treat....southern style

If I have learned at least one thing in the four years I have lived in South Carolina it is this : They do everything a *little* bit different here. 

This Halloween my sister decided to go trick-or-treating after debating whether or not to go for the month before. Luckily, she was a bit crafty this year and made a costume out of things we had around the house (which was good since our budget is pretty sucky right now). My sister wanted to meet up with her friend to go around the neighborhood we've been to for past Halloween's here. The group consisted of myself, my mom, my sister, her friend, her friend's mom, aunt, uncle, cousin, cousin's husband, cousin's baby, and brother (along with brother's friends). Her friend's mom, despite being older than pretty much anyone approaching doors for candy, was on a mission for candy nonetheless. Now, let me preface the conversation to follow with the fact that yes, they are both blond. This is a real conversation between my sister's friend (A) and her mom (L):

   A: mom what did you get? 

   L: a lollipop

  A: what kind? 

   L: a blowpop

   A: what kind? 

   L: a blowpop*

*This exchange happened for a few question/responses more, and A never got the answer she was looking for, which was the FLAVOR of the blowpop. 

A favorite mode of transportation for peoples in the south: the golf cart. Clearly not just for golf courses anymore. Oh no. They are used as short-distance transportation devices, such as picking up a child from school in the same neighborhood, or in this case, trick-or-treating. And clearly they don't take their golf-carts lightly as I walked past one that had a stereo installed. I can just see someone now, cruising down the block at a whopping 8mph headbanging in their golf cart. 

My mom and I, of course, joked along the way at poked a bit of fun at the true southerners and their silly antics. 

Another one of our "traditions" (as my sister's friend's mom called it) was attending the free carnival/"fall festival" at the nearby Baptist church. There is nothing better than benefiting from the kindness of Baptists in cashing in on free food and drink. For the simple price of signing your name on a card and including your email address, you can enter the lawn near their church for a festival that includes a rock wall, a few carnival rides, a few carnival games, and free hot dogs and soda. I love the irony of children dressed up for Halloween (which some still view as a Pagan ritual) enjoying free stuff from a Baptist church. However, it's not totally free and clear. For a majority of the event their is a "worship band" or in the case of this Halloween, a screen and projector set up displaying some sort of photo display and "Jesus loves you" choruses in the background. 

Another fun thing to point out is the fact that the South, in it's supreme power, feels that it can delegate when and where to celebrate Halloween. Some neighborhoods declared that Sunday October 30 will be the date for Trick or Treating. Also, they make a majority, if not all, of the actions of the police departments public knowledge. They remind everyone of the regulations placed on registered sex offenders and those that are on parole for the Halloween festivities. They state at every opportunity that those who are on said lists will be required to remain indoors, and in many areas will be checked up on, but also that they are to not have their lights on and not give out candy. This led me to develop an interesting "game" for myself while trick or treating. The game was simple: when we passed a house with it's lights out, there were three options to guess: 

     1. They ran out of candy

     2. They don't believe in Halloween

     3. They are registered sex offenders on parole...WALK FASTER

I tried to invite my mom to play, but she denied and scolded me because apparently my voice travels and I should try not to offend people. 

Something else I have noted and laughed at in terms of living in this great state. When a major corporation, such as Boeing, BMW, or more recently, a pharmaceutical company decides to build a factory/production center/etc in our state, the governor beams at the thought that "They chose us. This is an amazing thing and we should be proud!". No, you shouldn't. When you list the other states that were vying for said corporation, there is one clear reason as to why they chose us: CHEAP LABOR. This state is not very kind to it's workers (to put it nicely). The conditions are sub-par, the wages are as well. Of course a major corporation is going to move their offices/production to a state where there is little concern for blue-collared and minimum-waged workers. It's simple economics. Less money paid to employees=Larger profit/bottom line for corporation. Sure the state is going to make a bit of money off of the project, but it doesn't do the people any good. 

Ok, enough of the ranting. I just had to get some of that stuff out since it's been so long since my last blog. The more that I talk to JP and look at houses in Maine, the more I can't wait to get out of here. The cons greatly outnumber the pros (which are basically only the weather and the cost of living). Despite my mother's nay-saying as to the present and future relationship of myself and JP, I continue to hold my head up high and remain optimistic. He loves me exactly the way that I am, even knowing all of my faults. How often does that come along? We can talk for hours on end, share similar interests, and most important of all, want to build a relationship that will last. It may not have been a very conventional "courtship", but then again, what is these days? People date for years upon years, only to get married then divorced withing the first 3 years. There are others that date only a few months and are married decades. No one can really pinpoint what is right and wrong when it comes to relationships. I just know that all of the ones I have been in up until now have not worked, and the reasons why they did not work. The things that were missing from those relationships are ever present in JP. We communicate well. We make each other laugh, smile, and feel good about ourselves. I look forward to the crazy whirlwind that is to come. 

        

Happy Birthday to me :)

As the title of this blog entry suggests, today is my birthday. My 27th birthday to be exact. It's strange because it doesn't feel like a birthday, at least not in the sense that we're used to as kids. When I was younger, my birthday was exciting. I started counting down at least a month before and made sure everyone around me was aware of the date. (After all, a majority of my birthdays existed in a pre-Facebook-reminder era). For example:

10 YEARS AGO.....

It was my 17th birthday. I was counting down the final week that stood between me and my drivers license (which I got on Halloween that year). I was a senior in high school starting to look at colleges. I can't remember what I did for my actual birthday, but I know that it was in a time where multiple birthday parties existed (one for friends, one for family, and then the cake on my actual birthday). I'm sure all of my friends got together and we either did something at the house or all went to the movies or something.

20 YEARS AGO....

It was my 7th birthday. My reign as an "only child" was coming to an end (my mom was pregnant with my sister at the time, whom entered our lives on June 20, 1992). I had just started school in a public school, changing from the Catholic school I attended for Kindergarten and 1st grade (the school had closed, and we moved from our tiny apartment to a two-family across from my new school). I was taking ballet/tap/jazz classes with Ms. Brown (may she rest in peace) and more than likely had a birthday party including new school friends and people from my dance class.

There have been a few constants in terms of Birthday celebrations over the years, despite changes in circumstances:

1) The birthday girl always gets to choose where to go for dinner (when I was younger, it might have been choosing what we had for dinner, but I don't remember too much from that point).

This year I chose Yamato's (hibachi)

2) The birthday girl always gets "control" of things such as tv/radio/what movies to watch on their birthday.

3) Choice of birthday cake (I used to go for the ice cream cake, then it was yellow cake with chocolate frosting and bananas, and now since I've been living in the south it is red velvet with cream cheese icing).

Here is an old-school pic from a birthday party

Most of my birthdays have gone really well. There were a few that had a bit of a bumpy ride. For example:

• When I was younger (somewhere between 8-12) I had a pinata and one of my friends was accidentally given a black eye by another friend at the party (damn blindfolds and wiffle ball bats). 
• My 21st birthday was a bunch of crap: my mom was sick so my parents and sisters didn't come out for my birthday dinner (I was away at school), my bf at the time didn't care if we did anything for my birthday because it was "just another day on the calendar" and ended up being guilted into taking me to dinner, where I proceeded to cry...
• My 23rd birthday was spent as my first day as a waitress (after moving to South Carolina only weeks earlier)



the location at which I was a waitress  

One thing I can say is that I have gotten some pretty good birthday gifts. At 13, my mom got me birthstone earrings. At 21, I got a necklace and matching earrings. Somewhere around my 20th or 21st birthday my best friend (and a future bf) took me to get my belly button pierced (strangest gift to date, and it came out about a year later..it clearly didn't want to be there). I've always loved the cards I've gotten from friends and family as well. 

Now, a rant about birthdays in this 21st century of ours: Facebook is the devil when it comes to birthdays. Of course it works to my advantage because they politely remind me when friends and friends-of-friends/acquaintances have birthdays, but it leaves me skeptical on my birthday. How many people on my friends list actually know my birthday? How many of them do I talk to on a somewhat regular basis? How many are writing on my wall simply to look good and have no interest in the fact that it's my birthday? Either way, it is kind of fun to see all the people that post on your wall. 

Oh, and one more rant: the one thing I want for my birthday I can't have. At least not right now. That would be something that I can keep forever, that will love me unconditionally (although sometimes they might not exactly want to), and that is currently thousands of miles away: JP. Two simple letters. But one not-so-simple individual. Not that it's a bad thing. While it sucks that he can't be here for this birthday, he promises (and I will hold him to it) that he will be there for every birthday to follow (as well as Thanksgivings, Christmases, New Year's Eves, etc). He is the sweetest man I have known. We both know that what we have is the reason why no other relationships of ours have worked. It's because we were both passing time to get to this one. 

And another random birthday picture (can you find me?)

Updates and Missed messages

I thought that once I started writing a blog that ideas and words would come out easily, as I always have plenty of thoughts in my head. But, it seems that once I am sitting in front of the computer, I have no words. Everything I have thought of that day seems inconsequential and meaningless and not worthy of a new blog entry. Because of this I have succumbed to a pattern of "if you don't have anything good to blog, don't blog at all" and therefore I have gone days between blog entries. 


Maybe it has to do with the fact that every detail is always so up-in-the-air that it doesn't make sense to write about only one, but explaining every possibility would be terribly dry and boring. 


Plus, there is my old standby response which is if something becomes too difficult or seemingly burdensome, walk away. Sadly enough a good analogy here would be the various games on Facebook. They are interesting and new at first, and then after a while there is too much upkeep. What happens then? Those games go stale by the wayside and I'm left looking for a new thing. But how feasible is that kind of behavior in real life? I have found out that when it comes to "fight or flight", my "flight" side is well exercised but I couldn't fight my way out of a wet paper bag. (I would probably just sit in the bag and wait for it to dissolve around me and then walk away. 


Enough of my rhetorical rambling and saying a lot but nothing at the same time and get down to what's really going on. On the one hand, I am almost done with my paralegal program and will soon be able to start looking for jobs. I also have a sweet, smart, funny guy JP in my life that makes me smile. The down side of that? I'm in SC, and he's in AZ. He's been studying like crazy so he can take the boards he needs to pass to be an LPN. Once that happens it will be easier for him to come back to South Carolina. However, once back in South Carolina, we will all be living under one roof for the time being. How long will that be? I don't know. That changes by the day. Some days I feel like throwing my hands up and conceding to life in the South. Other days I want to run to I-95 and keep heading north until I hit the NJ Parkway. My family is no help either. My little sister doesn't want to leave here until she's done with high school. Most days, my mom wants to move before she starts high school (and avoid being locked in for another 4 years). My other sister (who lives with her boyfriend and his mom and siblings a majority of the time) keeps bouncing around like Tigger on speed. One day she wants to be in California, another she's talking about Clemson (which she asked my opinion on since I attended (though did not graduate) from the University of South Carolina, sworn enemies of Clemson although I didn't even care that I "was a gamecock" and she was looking to be a tiger. my thoughts screamed "no that means we'll be stuck here longer!!!). The one thing about having a close family is that it is both a blessing and a curse. On the blessing side, we have a tendency to stick together. However, sticking together often gets complicated when we all want to do different things at the same time. 


ANYWAY...


Then there is the fact that for whatever reason my little sister despises my very existence and makes it clear at all parts of the day. Every comment or interaction from her to me involves a curse word or some dig at my physical appearance (I am by no means fat, but that doesn't stop her from being a brat). Another frustration that is consistently looming in our household is finance, and more appropriately, debt. Some times I wish I was strong enough to just run. Pack up what I would need and just run. But that's not me (at least not when it comes to my mom and sisters). The thing about having a good deal of debt is that you often must compromise and sacrifice. Some of us in the house are better at it than others. When certain people want something they can not have, they do not accept it and walk away. OH NO. They whine and call names and guilt trip and woe-is-me and kick and scream until one of the others offers to sell bodily organs just to shut her up. AND these are the same days that I don't want JP anywhere near our house which just saddens me more because that means we'll be apart longer that we already have and will be in the near future. Then I think about the whole thing with JP and wonder if I'm crazy or being foolish. We talk all the time. We get along well, share similar interests, are both quite intelligent. But then it hits me, why is someone like him willing to stall out on other things he could be doing to instead succumb to that which is my household. I want to run to him and push him away all in the same thought. One minute I'm smiling and happy that he asked me about having a "date" where we go on a virtual tour of the MET in NYC (one of my favorite museums, and somewhere he has not been) and the next minute I'm rethinking everything. 


Even now as I type I look at the clock and it's 11:31. I'm 31 minutes late for our virtual date. There is a text on my phone that I'm sure is from him but I haven't looked at my phone and there was an IM that just came up a few minutes ago that I minimized like it was a pop-up ad for Pepsi. Is he really willing to put himself in this situation simply to be with me? The neurotic, anxiety-riddled, near 27 year old child that won't leave home and doesn't have her own life? Maybe I'm not the only crazy one here. 

a bittersweet anniversary-in memory of the worst job ever and my move to the South

Tomorrow marks the fourth anniversary of our departure from our home state of New Jersey. Some days it seems like it's been longer than that, and others it's hard to imagine we've been here that long. Again, 'here' is South Carolina. When I first got here I laughed at the question " Are you a Yankee or a Damn Yankee?" I think at this point I'm somewhere in between. I don't plan on staying here forever, but for the near future I shall call this state 'home'. 


How in the world did a girl and her family from New Jersey end up in South Carolina? Well, that can be a long story. The short version for now is this: Father/Ex-Husband screwed over family (after screwing secretary for months), Mother/Ex-Wife wanted a nice place to live that was more affordable. Lo and behold here we are. We were not welcomed by family or friends, we were welcome with the cold hard truth that we were not in Jersey anymore. You would think that after four years I would have gotten better adjusted to living here, but some days the differences just smack you in the face.  


My first job after arriving in South Carolina was as a waitress. At first, this sounded like a splendid idea. I would be working with people, so that meant I had the chance to make friends, and I was working in a popular local diner/restaurant (it's classified as a restaurant because they don't have diners in South Carolina, but being from Jersey, I call it like I see it) so it seemed that the money would be decent and maybe I'd learn a bit about the area. Well, I definitely learned about the area, but not in the way I had anticipated. You see, only being here for about a month I did not quite have my "y'all"s and "sweet tea" lingo in place. I decided that in this case, honesty would be the best policy and I would throw myself at the mercy of the customer. 


Maybe that wasn't the best idea. 


Here is one of the first things I've learned: the vast difference between "iced tea" and "sweet tea". "Iced tea" is the Yankee version. If made homemade, the two teas begin similar ways but what is added to them towards the end makes all the difference. Iced tea uses a moderate amount of sugar, mostly just to take the bitterness out of the tea, and almost always flavored with lemon. "Sweet tea" on the other hand, is generally without lemon flavoring and an inordinate amount of sugar (the only way  I can handle it is to pour one quarter cup of sweet tea and the rest of the cup with plain water). But I digress. 


Then, there is the language barrier. Yes, I know it's the same country but sometimes that's easy to forget. First of all, I have always had the habit of saying "you guys" when referring to a group of people, regardless of their gender. Well, one customer sitting in a booth with three other females did not waste time correcting my error. When I asked if there was "anything else I could get you guys" the leader of the pack flatly replied "there are no men at this table miss". I simply gave them an "ok" in response and once out of view, proceeded in rolling my eyes. A few other "dialect" issues that sometimes get severely under my skin (semi-illustrated): 

• that thing you push around in the grocery store and such is not a "buggy". a "buggy" is something that is driven by the Amish or something you rent at the beach . a "cart" is used to haul groceries. 

                                                Amish Buggy
       

                                           Dune Buggy

• when you get home from said grocery store, you do not "put up" your groceries. this makes no logical sense. What? do you not use the drawers in the bottom of your fridge? Unless your cat or small child is putting the groceries away, that is not "up". therefore, you put things "away", not "up"
• "Ma'am" is not a welcome greeting for most. in other parts of the country, in fact, this is an insult. Rule of thumb: if you have to still card the person for a cigarette or alcohol purchase, they are not a ma'am. if they flash their AARP card, ma'am away. 
• "fixin' to" does not make sense as a phrase for the preparation of something. fixin' is related to the word fixing, meaning to mend that which is broken. "fixin' to go out" translates to "mending the going out". what are you mending? if you "fix" dinner, what did you do to break it in the first place? 

I think I have pissed off enough people at this point. Another blog at a later time, I'm sure, will discuss the curious cuisine that is native here. I don't worry too much about it. I don't sit at home and fret that I don't have too many friends here. Not to say I haven't tried, but there always seems to be this divide. I never realized how "Northern" my ways were all the while I was in New Jersey, but it's amazing what you can learn about yourself when you are put in a new situation.