I Saw a Stranger's Breasts Today

Now that I have your attention... I have an interesting story to tell.

I saw a stranger's breasts today. No, not just out of the blue or for the entire public to see. It was rather intimate, and in a way heart warming. Before anyone becomes confused or alarmed, allow me to elaborate.

It was around 12:30 PM. The sun was bright and the streets were busy with lunch dates, last minute Christmas travel, and the usual beggars. I, myself, was on my way to a lunch date in Hollywood. My mind lately has been very clouded; sort of a mix of anxiety and nostalgia colliding with hope and ambition. The entire walk to the red line station, however, gave me a brief moment of clarity, where nothing else mattered. It was about 58 degrees outside and the sun felt like a warm hug. This is why people live in California.

I ascended the stairs to the metro and heard the ever-so disappointing sound of a car leaving. A 10-minute wait was in store, but I was in no really hurry, so I got onto the empty train that had arrived as the other on left (the north Hollywood stop is the final stop, so either track will get you out of the valley).

As I sat and contemplated the various graffiti arts, I heard a boisterous, melodic voice enter the train. Lead by a rather edgy, mixed woman, a young, black woman in hot pink pants trailed onto the rail and indicated my way. "Let's sit here. He seems real nice!" she exclaimed. I laughed and shrugged. Usually I avoid speaking to strangers all together. "Oh shoot! That's my cousin!" She got up and shook fists with a man who had just entered and leaned against one of the poles. They shared a brief conversation before she sat back down. "Well he's not really my cousin," she said, "We ain't related, but like... we basically cousins."

"I get it." I responded, "I have people who for most of my childhood I thought were my cousins, but really they were my parents' friends' kids."  I kind of chuckled. "Basically cousins."

"So you black!" She grinned. I kind of laughed and shrugged again. "Whats your name?" We made introductions, and I met her friend and her 'cousin'. They went off into another conversation about where they were going. We were all, after all, meeting through the common purpose of a destination. The 'cousin' was on his way to fill out his final paper work to begin a new job with Delta airlines in Florida. Apparently this was a huge deal, since my hot panted friend grew with glee. "No shit! Is yo' baby momma comin' too?" She was not. The conversation got a little grim, as it was clear he had to part from the mother of his child in order to pursue a career, or, if anything, pursue money to support this family. "Well I'm on my way to a photo shoot!" She was rather smug.

"And I'm here to make sure she don't get raped!" Said her counterpart. My face must have shown concern, because there was an immediate response directed towards me.

"Okay, it's not like porn. I won't get raped."

My face was still perplexed. I was really missing something. She went on, "It's tasteful nudes. Here. I did them before. Look. See." She pulled out her phone and gave me an amuse-bouche of selected nude photography for which she was the subject. She was wonderfully curvaceous with smooth, almost melted on, skin. She was indeed in the nude, but, in a very artistic way. Almost in celebration of the human body. Adorned on her neck was a string of white pearls, which nicely contrasted her rich, mahogany skin. "It's artistic, right?!"

"Yeah. I would by no means call that porn," I said. "They're very good, really."

She smiled and put the phone away. "I told you. I'm doing more today!" She then went on to talk to her cousin about how she loves school, hates where she lives, loves weed, hates smoking after she brushes her teeth. I listened in and out of the conversation, really, because it was none of my business.

My stop was almost up, and I told them that I had to go meet someone for lunch. "It was nice meeting you," she said. "I knew you were a nice person. You have on a mustard hoodie."

I chuckled, "And you hot pink pants." We shook hands, and I exited. I turned around in just enough time to watch the doors close, and the shuttle take off into the cavern, towards their futures.

The Clockwork Orange

When I was young, I was never really interested in reading literature that was assigned to me. In fact, I out right refused to read it. Classics such as The Lord of the Flies, The Outsiders, and Frankenstein were all thrown to the wayside by me. I think that it was something internal that I had. Deep down inside, I did not like being told what to do. That, and I believe, I had a slight attention problem (shout out to video games for that one!).

Or, maybe, I just needed to grow up.

Recently I have taken interest in reading more. Perhaps it is because I have been writing more, but the main reason is that I gained a wealth of down-time at my job as a run crew member. I started off with reading the John Green book, The Fault in our Stars. It's a teen fiction, very emotional (I cried), but generally an easy read. It doesn't challenge me to think, but it made me feel things. As a self proclaimed devoid-of-emotion human, I was horrified by this reaction. Can words really make me feel sad?

I digress. The next book for which I read is the ever so popular Catching Fire, from the best selling Hunger Games series. This book by no means moved me, but it did excite me. It was clearly written as a thrilling action novel that would place a very accessible message about human nature and free-will to its reader. Yet again, I was not challenged. However, this book excited me. Although there were obvious flaws in the structure, Catch Fire was definitely a book that you could not put down, and I'm not used to that. Can words really make me feel excited?

Most recently I finished the book A Clockwork Orange. Apparently I was in a dystopian mood after coming off of Catching Fire, but there is a huge difference between these two books; thought. Initially when I was reading the 60's classic, I was turned off. How dare this author force me to learn an entirely new slang? As I began to get beyond the strange new language, I grew to be riveted by the story that was unfolding. By the end I was really thinking about human nature and free-will. I was even fortunate enough to read the British version of the book (the American version left out the final chapter), which gave me the opportunity to internally contemplate the message of the book that initially struck each nation. Can words really make me think?

Yes. Words can do all of those things.

(IF YOU HAVE NEVER READ THIS BOOK... STOP RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I TALK ABOUT IT.... BUT SERIOUSLY READ THE BOOK.)

Since I finished A Clockwork Orange, yesterday, my mind has been atwitter thinking about how the book ended, that being the british version. It really raises the gesture of the absurd standards that society has set for us as individuals. Regardless of who we were as kids. Regardless of what mistakes or victories we committed as young people. Regardless of our social economic class. We're all expected to at some point grow up, get married, and reproduce.

The character Alex has this lightbulb turn on in his head regarding this standard. In the early 60s it was very much so expected for someone to commit to this exact path. Even the most rowdy children were forced to grow up to be a spouse and parent.

However, I think, that the main gathered thought that I obtained from this book is that I never want to be that.

As a kid I was resistant towards being told to read these books. Now, I am older, and am choosing to read them. I am retaining my free will, unlike Alex in the book. I plan to retain my free will to not commit towards the unreasonable standard of settling down, getting a boring job, and never really experiencing life the way that I want to.

Although Alex, in the book, wanted to commit violence (trust.... I am not a criminal), I on the other hand want to travel. I want to enjoy my job. I want to see things, meet people, and go places that most others regret to have thrown to the wayside. Society is telling me to be normal, and I am refusing. (Although the one thing I do want is a companion to adventure and experience these things with me, but that person can never expect me to 'settle down'. To me 'falling in love' doesn't equate to 'becoming boring'. I guess that is as 'normal' as I'll get.)

Ultimately, there is nothing wrong with doing any of the things that I personally detest. I have many friends and family members who chose to lead that life, and they are happy in doing so. Ultimately your free will in life is all that you have. Take what is yours, and always move forward. When you settle for something less than you want or deserve, then you'll never know what you could have become if you resisted expectations.

The Art of Being Rejected and Dealing with It

I think that one of the biggest life lessons anyone can learn is being able to accept and grow from rejection. We all experience it. Some more than others, but it is genuinely a terrible feeling whether it is the first or thousandth time.

Rejection comes in many disguises. For some it is romanic. Approaching your crush, and asking them out on a date, or, more commonly in modern society, on OkCupid. You take the risk to put all of your pride aside in order to open your life towards someone new in hopes that they will reciprocate in the same way.... Only to be told, "No." Or, even worse sometimes, being placed in the friend-zone. Feeling undesirable is perhaps one of the worst feelings ever.

However, rejection can be performed on way more stages than just the romantic front. For some it is asking a friend for a ride to work because your car broke down and you have no other way to make it there, then being told, "No." For others it is the salty cold shoulder when trying to get invited to a party that EVERYONE AND THEIR GRANDMOTHER has already been invited to. "No." For me, however, the feeling of inadequacy and self doubt have come from the career front. I have previously discussed my issues with finding employment. It is still as terrible to find full-time employment, but here is how I am dealing with it, and I think that it might be able to help with other forms of rejection, as well.

1. Take Control. Everyone else around you has their things to do. They are not going to be a constant thing in your life, and yes it is nice to feel included, or desired, or employed, but the truth is that you can't give someone else the power to control your circumstance. If something isn't working out don't keep trying to dig through stone with a spoon. Either find a jackhammer, or softer ground.

2. Remember What You Have. Working towards a goal is important, but not everyone has it figured out and knows what they're doing with their life. And, that's okay. What is dire is that you take to step back and recall all the good things that you have going for you while you take on the journey of self discovery. Half of life is figuring it out, and if you take the joy away from that by harping on the negative rejections, then you'll never really understand how your life should be mapped out. Take a deep breath. Not everyone said no, and not everyone will.

3. Don't Beat Yourself Up. This may be the most important. When you're rejected, your mind can automatically propel you into a downward spiral of self-deprecation. Do NOT let this happen. You are good enough. Maybe that person had one thing that was better for that specific situation, but you have something special that will be perfect somewhere else. Some people get lucky early on, but the path to 'yes' is only going to happen if you can love yourself first.

4. Surround Yourself with Happiness. This should be easy, but sometimes people let the influence of others take over their surroundings. Take the time to do the things that make you happy and be around the people that make you happy. Maybe what makes you happy is considered weird to some. Don't eliminate that activity from your life, eliminate the judgmental party. So long as your happiness inducing activity isn't harming your or anyone else, embrace it. As I say, you do you.

5. Move on. With all of the previous points in mind, you need to move on past being rejected. Don't try to play out the 'what if'. Don't try to say, "If only I..." Get past it. You will always have another chance at something new so long as you get up and move on. The quicker you can do this, the quicker you may finally be told, "yes."

Rejection is one of those things that keeps you up at night. I know that I take rejection very to heart, and it can swallow your emotions whole if you let it. Life is too short to allow this to happen. One day or another you will get what you want. Until that day, buck up. There is a 'Yes' out there waiting for you to message them "hello" on e-harmony, email them your resume, or ask them to play magic the gathering on Saturday.

Get Out of Your Bubble, Get on with Your Life

Most things in the modern world need to be classified. We have come acclimated to plopping a label on something. Not because the label is accurate, but because we want to understand it better. It's much easier to use one word to describe something, rather than an entire sentence. It's the different between saying, "The sky is blue," and "The sky is an ever changing gradient of indigo, ultramarine, and crimson." Sure, the sky, generally speaking, is blue, but, if you want to fully understand the sky, you need to understand that it changes colors, and is never really an even tone.

Unfortunately this principal is ever too present amongst humans. For some reason, we have an innate need to place each other into bubbles. It makes life easier, so you can understand someone. Which, is understandable. But, this becomes dangerous once we begin to allow these bubbles to merge, and become too massive and general. Especially when it comes to matters of gender and race. But, the world doesn't need another article about gender and racial stereotyping and why it's a dangerous thing. 

No, this isn't an article about that. This is about the bubble you choose to place yourself in, not one that others do. 

There is a huge pressure to acclimate yourself to something that is expected for yourself. Everyone has a very different position, that is very unique. And, I understand, that some people are placed into situations economically that it are nearly impossible to get out of. But, that's a whole other issue. People who have the opportunity to choose, however, shouldn't let that opportunity pass. We live in a world where privilege means success, but it doesn't necessarily mean choice. To quote one of my favorite movies (Pokemon: The First Movie), "... the circumstances of one's birth are irrelevant; it's what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are." 

So, how does this effect your bubble? It has everything to do with that. We have these categories that others want to place us in, just as much as we want to be placed into these categories. We want self identification just as much as others need to identify us. When you're born into something, you are automatically placed into a category, then from there you are forced to choose the bubbles to include yourself in as you grow up. 

You're straight? Okay here are the only other bubbles that can be added to that label. Oh, you're also Christian? Alright here are a few choices from there, you have to enter this bubble, though, because thats what straight christians do. And I guess you have to take these other bubbles, as well. Here's the republican bubble, and the homophobic bubble, and the Bill O'Riley fan bubble. Wait? You don't want those bubbles? But you won't fit in with the others... Are you sure you want that? Suits you...

This mentality goes every which way. Gay people have bubbles handed to them, atheists have bubbles handed to them, black people have bubbles handed to them, everyone has bubbles handed to them. But you don't have to let the bubbles choose you. You can step out of that bubble and be whatever you want. Your personal beliefs aren't determined by a few identifying factors of your life. If you want to be a republican, lesbian atheist, then you have every damn right to also be a vegan who doesn't believe in philanthropy. We are bound to constrictions and rules of one word. That word has no more power than a blade of grass does right before the mower passes over head. 

Just like the sky, you don't have to belong to such a small bubble. Or any bubble at all. Be what you want to be, not what you think you should be. I believe your life will be happier, and more colorful this way. And, maybe, you will begin to understand others more who don't fit into these little boxes that we create for ourselves. You'll learn to sympathize or tolerate those who don't fit with the life you are living. Or, you might even discover something new about yourself. Make your life into a collage, rather than a map. Knowing how to get somewhere isn't half as much fun as figuring out where to turn next. 

So how would you describe yourself? With a word, or a lifestyle? 

Last Sunset - The Leap

First video on the road. They get weird from here on out.

The Beginning of 'The Leap'

I have started my video travel vlog that documents my musings throughout my trip across the United States. It is a series called 'The Leap' available through my youtube channel, Especially Jeff.

'The Leap' is going to be a series of random videos from the road trip. Mostly stream of consciousness comedy vlogs. I got to see some really beautiful things on my way across America. And now that I am in LA (and I am moving into my apartment tomorrow), I'll be able to dedicate some free-time towards editing and writing. Expect much more, soon! There will be new videos every week, so be sure to subscribe by clicking HERE!

Here is the first video: Saying Goodbye

Putting it Together

Sometimes reflection is the only means to moving forward. This has never rang so true as toward my current situation after having road tripped across America to the west coast. 

I am uncertain as to what I should expect from my future here. I don't have an apartment yet. I don't have a job yet. But, I am working on both. Not to my surprise, both of these gateways of adulthood are very competitive here. It's like a giant, sprawling city resided by a bunch of Williams sisters, constantly competing for the gold. That an cheap mexican food. 

It would be a lie to say I haven't been stressed. I've been stressed out of my mind. This is probably the most difficult thing that I have ever had to do in my life. I've been living out of a suitcase for the last week and a half, I've been eating out daily, and I have spent every day since arriving in LA looking for apartments/jobs. To most people, this probably poses itself as insane. 

Today me and my friend Shannon decided to take a break from the hunting and the insanity of the city, to relax on the beach. We wound up at El Matador beach, upon a friend's recommendation. It was right in Malibu. The shore was a mixture of diving cliffs and dusty greenery with fits of sand coating any area where the shore-beaten boulders decided not to grow out of. It, quite literally, looked like the coast from the Little Mermaid, except I wasn't a red-head nor was I wearing a sea shell bra.

It was all to picturesque. We walked around the area and examined the atmosphere. After we found a place to plop down, I became enveloped in my own thoughts. While pacing in circles through the warm, coarse sand, I began to reflect on what I was doing with my life. It started with the negative thoughts of how ludicrous it is of me to blindly move to an unfamiliar city in order to pursue an unknown future. It then transformed into the acceptance of my decision, and the steps I must take in order to make it all work. Shortly after that list was composed, I took a step back and realized that Penn State starts its Fall Semester tomorrow. This is the first year that I will not be having a 'first day of school'. This is my first year where I am truly an adult, and that I can pursue whatever I dream of, simply, because I can. 

I've come a very long way to the west coast. I left my small town to attend a huge university. I went through 4 years of a college education and met some of the best friends that I may ever have in my life. I traveled all the way across the country, through cities and states that I never imagined myself seeing. I stepped into the vast body of water as far away from my home as it could be. And it was there when I really appreciated my journey to where I am now. And letting the difficulties of this move take me down would be shameful to what I have done in order to get here. 

Hard work usually pays off. Someday I hope that, succeed or fail, my story can inspire someone else to take a chance on something that generally has all odds against them. Although the roulette wheel of life is still waiting for my ball to settle, win or lose, I don't regret my journey. 

What to Expect

Sometimes you just need to do things in order to make you happen. Obviously I am not new to this idea of doing what makes you happy. For this reason, I have some exciting news regarding my trip to LA.

I have decided to purchase a video camera and document the entire journey to the west coast so that everyone can experience this leap I am taking right along side me.

Subscribe to my channel on Youtube for updates!

http://www.youtube.com/user/EspciallyJeff

I won't stop writing on this blog, though! This is just another segment for anyone who enjoys the media I put out to also indulge in.

On top of my youtube channel, I am going to begin a new endeavor. I'm writing a book. It's sort of been a private hobby that has been happening for a while, but I figured if I say I am going to complete this, then I will feel more pressured to follow through with the project. More to come in the following months. I'm a firm believer in the 'write it, don't say it' mentality when it comes to my literature.

Both of these things will give me lots to do once I get to LA outside of job searching. I figured I'll need some form of an escape from the insanity of the west coast.

Not much inspiration on here for now, more of a public commitment and announcement! I'll get back to my posts soon.

For now, enjoy this video of a cat riding a turtle:

Next stop, West Coast!

On the Right Track

Sometimes I take for granted the lessons that we learn from theatre. In a way I have become jaded to the magic of the stage after having worked in it. Honesty I stopped seeing shows that I have worked on.... I've become the ex boyfriend that doesn't give closure. I work really hard on it and run away as fast as I can, no looking back. I don't know what has given me so much angst against my theatre background. Maybe it is the fact that I haven't been really submerging myself in it the way I had imagined. Or maybe I just need a break from it in order to really appreciate it. For now, though, the only way I can think of treating theatre is by steering clear of it or hitting it with my car; not letting it come along for the ride.

One week from today I am moving to Los Angeles. My gut has been experiencing a sensation somewhere between having to poop and being mauled by a handheld mixer. Everyday I am doing something to prepare for the move, and the stress is making me very moody. Also I've been eating everything in sight. I ate an entire cosmopolitan magazine today. Also a wiimote. That is beside the point.

The point is that I'm beginning to get cold feet. This is perhaps going to be the most difficult thing that I have ever do in my life. I'm not only taking a huge financial risk, but I am moving to the opposite side of the country, far from where I was born and raised, and where most of my family resides. What am I thinking, right? It's insane. Why would I take this huge risk AND lose my support system? What am I looking to really gain? The truth is: I HAVE NO IDEA. Today I spent hours pacing around the empty house trying to find something to take my mind off the insistent doubt. This is where the tabloid consumption came into play.

After a while I put my itunes on shuffle, clicked play, and sat around as a thunderstorm began to develop outside. As the crashes sounded and the wind whistled, my stress built even more. It's almost as if the sudden monsoon outside was my doing. Just as the atmosphere became the familiar, murky, green-gray of an august rain, a song came on my shuffle.

"Now I can see you're in a rut, in disarray
And I'm not one to butt in, but in fact I must say
If you'd take it easy, trust awhile, don't look blue, don't look back
You'll pull through in just awhile 'cause you're on the right track"

My gut stopped clenching. Anymore I skip songs from musicals that appear on my shuffle. I've come to flag them as campy and lame with zero depth. But suddenly, like an open geyser, i was effected by this song. The song is called "On the Right Track" and it is from the musical Pippin. Although this show is known for being magical, I never really related to it. Until now that is. This song was exactly what I needed. Assurance. 

I suppose that I should not take my background in theatre for granted. I was given the ability to cause emotional reactions upon people through the art of stage craft. And although it can sometimes be a thankless job, it has gotten me to this point, and I can't stop where I am right now. 

I'm on the right track. Wherever this track may lead, each step I take is one more forward. But, I should probably stop eating inanimate objects. 

The Importance of Risks

The unknown is scary. Somewhere, someplace, there is probably a documented study on how people react to unknown information. I would guess the responses range from terror, uncomfortableness, self urination, crying, binge eating, ect. I've experienced the fear of the unknown recently, and, frankly, need to put into prose some form of response so that I can gain momentum towards breaking this fear and taking the risk of diving head first into the unknown world.

In one month from now I will not know where I will be living. I will not know where I will be working. I will not know what I will be eating. Basically the only thing I know about August 24th is that I will have been in Los Angeles for a week. It's a big move for me. I've grown up and lived in Pennsylvania for my entire life. But I am leaving the nest and throwing caution to the wind in order to travel across America to be in a new city full of unknown opportunities. August 24th will hopefully be the first day that I begin to retract from the depths of the unknown. The important thing about the day of August 24th is that I have promised myself I will have found an apartment by then. Cheers to that goal, lets celebrate with a bottle of champagne that I cannot afford!

Lately I have been applying to at least one job a day. This has totaled in 20+ applications in about 2 weeks. What no one tells you about being an adult and applying for work is that sometimes no one contacts you. You can update your inbox every hour, like a 14-year old girl who just sent her crush a love letter, but the only incoming mail is from your mom. This isn't something that a college education preps you for (that means, for all of you in high school, there isn't a 'dealing with email neglect 101'). I always expected companies to be polite and, at the very least, send a courtesy rejection email. The only thing worse than rejection is the unknown. For all I know these companies ARE considering me. But, how am I supposed to know that with zero contact, right? I feel like someone who just sent a text after a first date and has waited two weeks for a response about going on another. I can't be that terrible, can I?

The truth is, I am probably not terrible. They have a lot of applications, and the job market is very competitive right now. But, this unknown fear has really been weighing me down.

I guess that my main motivation for dealing with this pressure is the KNOWN of what would happen if I didn't take this risk. I would move back home with my parents. I would work for a factory and make decent money, but not be around people that are of my desired culture, and not be living on my own with the ability to  explore a city of diversity and opportunity. To me, this outcome is more terrifying than being homeless and unemployed on August 24th. Letting go of my dreams and giving into the known is what I should be fearing.

Supposedly I should be doing the smart thing. I should be doing what is financially less risky and socially more understood. But, I don't want that. I can't let the fear of taking a risk get in my way. In fact I shouldn't even fear taking a risk. They say you can't be afraid of what you don't know right?

You're Allowed to Like Things

I get it. I'm only 22 years old. The only thing significant about that age is a mediocre Taylor Swift song. I've barely lived my life and I'm by no means wise. But, I have a bone to pick with how our society has been conducting itself. Although this is a large generalization, people need to stop being so damn judgmental of what other people like.

Here is the thing. You're allowed to like things. Well... Obviously you should not like murdering people, or any clearly morally corrupt thing.... But if you really think that I am promoting crime or self harm with this post then you can stop reading and go play on an active railway (I'm sure people like to do that).

There is enough pressure from society on what we should like. From advertisements to social media, we are barraged with brands, celebrities, food choices, ect. On top of that, we have our family and friends to add to the mix of influences. I mean who doesn't have an overly opinionated aunt that insists that you like their cooking and that your music is crappy. In a way we are almost spoon fed our interests on a daily basis. Or at least what others think our interests should be. And it's a very big spoon. Big enough to fit Abercrombie models and the Snuggie family combined.

The truth of the matter is that you probably secretly like things. For instance I love Miley Cyrus' new song. See that? You probably just judged me. That's the problem. Stop before I get the spray bottle and rolled up newspaper! If you have yet to realize it, I'm allowed to like Miley Cyrus. Why? Because it doesn't effect you. This applies to all interests. And you want to know why it is important that you don't judge me for liking Miley Cyrus? Because I won't judge you for liking Mumford and Sons. The world is beautiful, isn't it?

This issue goes even deeper when the things you like start to becoming career choices. You may want to go back and refer to my "Working for Happiness" article. Although that article pretty much sums it up, it should be adherently clear that if you do something that you like, it will make you happy. What is magical and beautiful is that everyone likes different things! Some people like to crochet alone in their cabin while listening to 'The Price is Right' in the background. Others like to drink cheap liquor and go to K$sha concerts then throw up in their purses. Is one better than the other? Perhaps to you. But, you can't really say because some people don't like the other. Actually.... Some people don't like either! Crazy, I know. This means that if someone chooses to pursuit a career in acting or sculpture with a very risky job market you can't judge them for not choosing a career with a more clear and accessible future. Odds are these people are probably very happy, and don't judge you for your desk job.

I guess that the point I am trying to emphasize here is that you can't assume you have better taste than anyone else. You're most likely ignorant towards whatever you are being fussy about. And, odds are, the things you do are probably not in the taste of the person you are referencing. You can like different things and it doesn't make either of you better than the other. Jane can like her McDonald's Burger and Alex can like his organic, vegan quinoa salad. All is well in the world, and both Jane and Alex have eaten dinner without being judged by each other.

So, go and like things. Like them on Facebook. Shout them to the world. Get a tattoo of them. You're allowed to do any and all of those things, because you're allowed to like whatever you want. Except like Nickleback. No one is allowed to like Nickleback.

Empathy: The Forgotten

We have all been around those people. You know the ones I am talking about. The fortunate person. The person who has lived life being fed by the silver spoon. We hear his or her stories, and problems and ponder in our minds about how better off that person is. But, what we never do, is take the time to understand the most crucial, the most important, the most significant fact about differences in economic and social upbringings.

 You cannot change what you were born into.

 Sure, you may be born into poverty and win the lottery, but that is uncommon and deflects from my underlying point. Life is about luck. We are all dealt cards when we are welcomed into this earth. Yes, some people have more cards than others. Some people have really nice cards that give them many options of which hand to play. Others can only lay one card, and it won't get them far in the game. Though this is hard to accept, its simply how society has been construction.

 Now, the reason why this is important to understand is because it fuels how we manage our lives. It is essentially the basis of most politics and many wars. When someone is raised in a different situation than you, be it better or worse, you cannot blame them for being different from you.

 Perhaps society has begun to lose its empathy.

 You see, I heard a story the other day about my friend's upbringing. I heard about large houses (that is owning multiple family properties) with glorious ground plans and lush locations. The pure indulgence this person had as a child was astounding. Immediately I felt uncomfortable. How could I share a similar story? I come from very humble means. Most people in my area can barely afford one property, and if they own a second its usually a hunting camp with an outhouse and no running water. After a moment of allowing my mind to run into the depths of jealousy, I began to realize... This person never knew anything other than what was just described. To be honest, my stories about going camping and exploring the wilderness may very well be equally as begrudging.

 Often we lose track of what we were given in spite of what we were not. The negative parts of our lives become a flood and encompass all that makes us unique and different; The things that we are thankful for. The things that helped shape us as individuals. No everyone was granted a freshly waxed limousine as a chauffeur to senior prom, just as not everyone was granted a bonfire by the cool, flowing river in the back yard. Take and accept your gains, because someone else will think they're just as special as you think theirs' is.

Vanity is Receding

Mirrors are awful. Media is awful. Sexuality is awful.

These things all influence our vanity. Sometimes to extremes. They make us self conscious, upset, and usually uncomfortable.

I am no stranger to this game. Sure, we all hear about women in the media, but men can have issues with their body image too. For me, recently, its been my hairline. It is receding.

How frivolous is this? I mean sure. It's not a big deal. I have my health. But, lets look at some pictures of models with ideal hairlines in order to emphasize my point.

 


I mean, obviously the point of modeling is to be beautiful. However, the fact that we idolize this societal driven image of beauty is absurd. We should be idolizing intelligence or passion, not hair.

 

So why should I feel so terrible about the fact that my hairline isn't as youthful as it was 4 years ago. I'm educated with a college degree, I continuously seek new sources of information to wrap my mind around, and I challenge everything in order to find out how or why it is happening. I should not be feeling so terrible about something as frivolous as a receding hairline

Because of this, I have decided to accept my growing forehead. Yesterday I had my haircut short in order to flatter what is naturally happening to me. It was a huge blow to my ego, but honestly, it does look a lot better.

I don't think it is healthy to compare your beauty to others. You should only ever have to compare yourself to yourself. Don't try to be like Chris pine or Megan Fox. Find out how you can flatter your body as it is, and go with it. No one will ever say that you look bad if you can work with what cards you were given.

My endeavors in self beauty are clearly only the tip of the ice berg of the huge problem of body image in America. If you don't give into what causes the negative feelings of self worth, then we can eliminate the need to rely on the main sources of eating disorders, body dysmorphia, and self esteem issues. This expectation also leads to bullying in schools. It's a parasite that will grow unless we, as adults, make a strong effort to change the future for everyone.

Like my hairline, vanity can recede. However, unlike my hairline, it won't recede unless you make it.

Working for Happiness

Recently I have graduated from Penn State for my undergraduate education. In America, now-a-days, we see it as a very common occurrence that a person is required to have a degree in order to join the work force, or, in many cases, the ranks of unemployment. The degree has become something of a lie that we are told in high school. We are convinced that if we go to college we will be well off financially, and therefor happy. Unfortunately, many jobs that required a BA several years ago now requires an MA. Why is this? Who decided that in order to be successful you needed to be in more debt (or be privileged enough to have family/inheritance/ect to pay for your education)?

No thanks to writers like Lena Dunham, who apparently can make a career out of exploiting the sad white girl market, post undergrads resort to obtaining jobs in career fields that either have nothing to do with their degree, or totally sacrifice their happiness. What really bothers me is the latter of these paths. Why on earth would anyone take a job that makes them unhappy?

I recently watched a fabulous documentary called Beauty is Embarrassing. It follows the career and life of Wayne White, the artist. He is best known for his puppetry in the 80s hit TV show PeeWee's Playhouse, but he also is a painter, performer, father, and husband. Although the film is fascinating for simply showing his work, he also highlights a very important point about life. That is to do what you love, and it will lead you where you want to go.

Sure, not everyone loves making puppets or painting, but I think that this can be applied to all fields. If you love science, do that, and don't do it to make money or because someone tells you you should. Do what you want to do.

Currently (for the summer) I am working as a carpenter in a theatre scene shop, as well as some freelance design work. I'm making enough money, and am working long hours, but I'm happy. I am happy to go into work each morning, and when I go to sleep I don't dread waking up. Who would want to dread the next day before having experienced it?

Sure, not everyone can think this way. Money, unfortunately, is the driving force of our nation. It forces us into these financial boxes, and somehow leads us to be unhappy. But, to tell you the truth, I would rather be happy with less money than well off and hating my job. Not everyone can let themselves obtain that mentality, but I do love what I do, and I'll never be a pathetic character on 'Girls'.

Being Ill as an Adult

We grow up vicariously through being sick. As children, in fact, we occasionally looked forward to sick days! This meant we could watch daytime cartoons (Arthur, anyone?), eat as much soup as we could, and, best of all, spend time with our family. For me, being sick meant I got to sit on my grandmother's couch, eat saltine crackers with a ginger ale, and watch The Price is Right! She would tend to my every need, and make sure that I would feel better. It has been imbedded into my internal harddrive that being sick meant being taken care of.

As an adult, however, this is much less the case. Today I woke-up (and by 'woke-up' I mean decided to give into having been awake since 3:00AM from a sore throat and body aches) and had to evaluate whether or not I was in a state where I could attend work. My thought process used to be"I am sick, PLEASE don't make me go to school, take me to Grandma!"But, I am no longer a student, and my Grandmother passed away 2 years ago. Now I say, "I am sick, but I need to work so that I can buy soup for the next time that I am sick."

How terrible is that? As adults we can't slow down for a moment to make sure that we are healthy.

I can't even get upset for having gotten ill (which I did ask off from work, mind you), because it was entirely my fault. This past week I was bouncing around between two part-time jobs, as well as my responsibilities to a local community theatre. Not to mention the fact that I was up at 6:30 everyday to go to the gym before work. I literally worked myself into illness. I didn't allow myself to relax and recoup from the day, instead I kept myself busy until I passed out from exhaustion.

Being sick as an adult has become such an inconvenience. We see it as "How am I supposed to work now?!" instead of "I should moderate my work so that I don't get sick in the first place."Yet, we live in such a world where we have debt, loans, and other financial responsibilities that require money to facilitate the burden. As a college graduate as of May, I have a lovely 6 month grace period until my loans come in, so this sick day is not as much of a burden. However, all I can think about are the single mothers in America who work 3 jobs to feed their children, keep a roof over their heads, and educate them. How can a single mother take a sick day? Does she risk losing a job? Why don't we have support for that woman so she can take a day off in order to feel better? Where is her Grandma with saltine crackers?

Oddly enough, this is my thought process while I lay in bed, ill. Sure I don't have children or huge debt to weigh me down, yet. But, those things may (or will, in the case of debt) happen. My only hope is that I can be in a place where I have the time in the day to take care of myself. Until then, I will lay in bed and blog about it. Being ill as an adult isn't much fun, but luckily The Price is Right is on at 11AM.