5am

Letting go is a funny thing in that it feels a lot like giving up. It's different, for certain, but it feels much the same-especially when that which you are letting go took years to build. Even the term "letting go" implies some sort of release/relief from a necessary excision. In reality, it feels more like an amputation- and leaves just about as much scarring. I guess all you can do is hope that, for every scar, there is a lesson learned- expect respect, don't give more of yourself to someone than they're willing to give, allow yourself the same second chances you allow others- and request them in return.
I guess you just hope that you walk away better than you started because, after all, it's easier to let go if this thing has fulfilled its purpose. There's something buried deep within us that believes that if something has done only a little good, it might be worth the trauma/pain/destruction left in its wake- that the meaning of a thing (symbolism) is worth more than the thing itself. In sociology, we call it symbolic interactionism...but I digress.
So, letting go is a lot like giving up after all. It's giving up once you've done everything to salvage it, but to no avail-- once you've moved beyond the anger and the guilt. It's not forgetting what once was but understanding that this is the way things are. It's wishing things could be different but knowing that they probably won't be.

The really awful thing is that, any way you look at it, it sucks.

Food for Thought

You know, the thing about self-righteousness is that it leaves you in a constant state of bitterness and disappointment; you always feel as though you haven't gotten what you deserve. Actually, that's true- you haven't, but you should probably be glad about it.

So stop your whining.

Andrea Needs...

 Anyone who spends enough time in cyber space is bound to, at some point, come to the end of the internet. Today, I did just that. In my frantic attempt to entertain myself for 8 hours, I came across an interesting relative of the "25 random things about me" survey which recently ravaged facebook. For this one, you go to google and type in "(your first name) needs" and record whatever ensues. I'm going to attempt to merge the activity and an update of the last month. Here we go.

Andrea needs...

1. ...some help finding stalker songs. 

   Today I met a man who calls himself "Fast Freddy." Fast Freddy was a 50 y/o dressed in a bright yellow track suit reeking of alcohol. He asked only 2 questions: "Are you married?" and "Can you get pregnant?" Really. I tried to end the conversation quickly, but failed to do so before he told me 4 times how pretty I was. And, to think, I'd resigned to spending another Valentine's Day alone.

2. ...to learn to pick her battles.

    Enough said. 

3. ...no siblings.

        At first I thought this one was just funny, but then I remembered a story that applies. Right before Christmas, my mom called and told Kasey and I that she was seriously considering adopting a 9 mth. old baby girl. I think she has since decided that she's not going to, but she's still looking into foster parenting which I am very much in favor of. WV is in desperate need of quality foster homes.

4. ... a profession in which she can express her inventive and idealistic side.

   When we left off (over a month ago, I know) I was jobless, leaving my newfound autonomy in question and my ego slightly bruised. My job search started with strict standards: "I will only work a job that is related to the very expensive education that I will be paying off for the next 10 years." Gradually, my standards turned into something more like guidelines, suggestions, and eventually a distant desperate cry. After countless e-mail correspondences and resume submissions (and a month of being entirely without income), I got the first position I had applied for (you know, back when I had standards). Needless to say, I was thrilled. I've been there for about a month and, so far, I'm really happy with what I do. I finally feel like I'm getting paid to actually do something. Plus, when I explain it to people it sounds very impressive; that's important to me. 

5. ...to be promoted to Commodore Andrea.

    Truth. 

6. ...to take her game to a whole new level.

    I disagree- my game is just fine where it is.

 

7 ...to be right where she is for now.

   So, remember all those times I said I was absolutely not staying in Morgantown for one more second than was absolutely necessary? I am SO eating my words right now. It looks as though I will be here for another year (at least). The financial setback resulting from my unemployment fiasco has made it all but impossible for me to move anywhere even remotely desirable. So, I'm staying put for a while. I feel ok about the decision, but I've needed basically constant reassurance that it was the right decision. In reality I know it was the best career decision I could've made. I'm just not so sure about it's effect on my mental health. One day at a time.  

8. ...to find a veterinarian comfortable with working with hedgehogs.

9. ...to have something in reserve for those unexpected emergencies.

    One cold snowy Thursday morning, I returned to my car after Bible study to find my car significantly damaged, but definitely drivable. At Christmas, I took it in for what was supposed to be 5 days. After a week of not hearing anything, I called to inquire about the condition of my beloved Heidi and was informed that she was totaled. This came just one day after the news that I had finally gotten a job. So, there I was with a job to do and no way to get there. I spent a week frantically car shopping, but to no avail. Just as I was approaching wits' end, I found a car I love for a price I could afford. It is easily the nicest car I have ever owned. Kasey calls it my yuppy-mobile. I'd say that's about accurate, but I'm not ashamed. Despite adamant counsel in opposition, I did name my car. His name is Sven and we're very happy together. 

10. ...a drink.

      See #7. 

Ciao, amici.

To Forward Motion

Everyone blogs on New Year's Eve. Everyone. Non-conformist such as I am, I had resolved not to do so. In my defense, it's actually New Year's Day, but I won't argue semantics. The truth is, I gave in. I don't even have anything particularly earth-shattering to post. I just lack any better way to spend my time (save sleeping, which I am currently unable to do). 

So, in the interest of keeping your interest, faithful reader(s), I won't recap 2008. Though, if I did, I'd probably tell you all about graduating, becoming an adult, new pets, an amazing summer, and traveling to the hometown of James B. Dean. Unfortunately  2008 was not all good, and so I'd also have to recount the loneliness of working night shifts, the alienation of being a non-student in a college town, the recent breakdown of my autonomy, and the persistent longing of this heart to be anywhere but where it is. But, I won't do that; I'm no lemming. 

Instead I'll just say farewell, 2008. It's been fun, but I'm not sad to see you go- nothing personal, you understand. It's just that I'm longing for a new adventure and 2009 has promised to deliver (though, I should say, so did you at one time). Things started out well enough, but we both knew it wouldn't last.

Here's to 2008- to growing up, falling down, and growing up some more (repeat ad nauseam), to moving out, moving up, and moving on. 

Here's to forward motion.

Ciao, amici.

Consider Yourself Gifted.

So, unless you thoroughly read my last post, you may have missed the tiny update on my employment status. My autonomous adulthood has hit a snag. I am unemployed. It happens to the best of us, or so I'm told. If only it hadn't happened in the same week as my new computer purchase, rent payment, and first student loan payment- not to mention the whole Christmas gift buying thing. And so begins the job hunt. The upside was that I didn't have to work on Christmas and instead get to spend 2 weeks at my parents' house- pretty decent upside, I think. However, I have had a lot of time on my hands, which means more time to ponder things abstract, ambiguous, and probably irrelevant. But it makes for good blog material.

At the risk of sounding like a Scrooge, sitting here amidst a vast array of new excessories (ha), I cannot help but drift to such ponderations annually wrestled by we "enlightened" folk: living in a culture of excess, seeking fulfillment/happiness in possessions, manufacturing sentimentality to increase consumer spending, etc. etc. etc. Worry not, I won't belabor a point that's been well-belabored already.

This Christmas, I'm more interested in the "why." Lately, my wandering mind and abundance of free time have found me in the middle of a few different books. The combination has been interesting and led me down some paths less traveled. One of which is this: I think we've been far too eager to blame our willingness (or perhaps need) to live in such excess on a longing for happiness. I think maybe it's power we're seeking. It's pretty simple, really. "Rich" people have "nice" things. I think we can all agree that we associate the wealthy with the powerful. So, here's what we have: the wealthy have expensive things; the wealthy have power. Thus, power becomes just one more possession unattainable to a lowly proletarian. Ravenous spending, then, is an attempt to purchase power. Of course, if the indoctrination is successful, and we all believe this is possible, then it is possible. Power is real- and has real consequences- when it's perceived as real by one's peers. How unfortunate.

Of course, the Christmas season also sees extreme giving. I'd like to explain it away with altruism, but the cynic in me (which, is the vast majority) would say it is an attempt to gain power over others. It's sort of saying "I have enough, here's some for you." Which seems nice enough, if it weren't for the "but don't forget where it came from" that is most often attached.

In The Pursuit of God, A.W. Tozer talks about a "tyranny of things" in which we place so much importance on things, that we are no longer the possessor, but the possession. We are had by the very things we enlisted to bring us power. Yet another danger of the belief that power is held by things. I would like to think that an omnipotent creator had made us smarter than to be held captive by inanimate objects, and the truth is that he did. I can't say it as well as Tozer.

"The pronouns `my' and `mine' look innocent enough in print, but their constant and universal use is significant. They express the real nature of the old Adamic man better than a thousand volumes of theology could do. They are verbal symptoms of our deep disease. The roots of our hearts have grown down into things, and we dare not pull up one rootlet lest we die. Things have become necessary to us, a development never originally intended. God's gifts now take the place of God, and the whole course of nature is upset by the monstrous substitution"

And there you have it, your Christmas diatribe courtesy of yours truly. Consider yourself gifted. Merry Christmas (Happy Holidays).

Buon Natale, amici.

Quick Update and A Healthy Dose of Didacticism

    I'm afraid this will be a bit scattered. With nearly a month on which to update you, my faithful reader(s), there's simply no way to avoid a bit of randomness. 

     For those of you who've been on the edges of your proverbial seats, my 23rd birthday went off without a hitch- surprises, CiCi's, bowling, friends, and cake. I can think of precious few things that could have made the night more perfect. 

     I spent Thanksgiving at work, which may sound negative, but I've never been much a fan of Thanksgiving anyway. If you know me at all, I think you'll know why, and if you don't- well, suffice it to say, it seems a miserable holiday all around. We stuff ourselves with more than we need, or even want, to the point of discomfort, while watching gargantuan inflatable likenesses of pop culture icons navigate Manhattan. Just as the football games begin, so do the turkey comas, and we spend the remainder of the day in that awful state halfway between lucidity and insentience- total misery at the hands of our own gluttony. I can think of no better illustration of our culture of mindless excess. All of this to celebrate what? The "noble" Europeans coming together with the "savage" Natives in a "cooperative effort" (make no mistake, those quotation marks are intended). No, thank you.  At least there's a dog show. 

      In more recent news, I got fired this week- sort of. Actually, I was asked to resign. Luckily, I was then granted a reprieve and let off with a very severe slap on the wrist and a stern talking-to. This job has me worn pretty thin, but I am more grateful than I can express to be employed. 

   *edit* A mere 8 hours later, I was just fired for real. Let the job hunting begin.

      I am coming to you, for the first time, from my very own macbook. It's been a very long time since I had a computer of my own at all, and I couldn't be more excited to end the dry spell. Let me just settle one thing: No, I did not buy a mac because it is the "cool artsy thing to do." I'll say only this: stereotypes are grown from a grain of truth, cliches are reasonably thus, and haters wanna hate.  

      With 7 months(ish) until the big move, I've started looking at apartments and jobs in Chicago- nothing serious yet, just examining the possibilities. The long-term plan is to go back to school, but I'm in no hurry as I am in enough debt already. I'm planning a trip in March to look at apartments, visit prospective employers, and just generally get a better feel for what needs to happen. It's all very exciting- the Windy City is calling my name. 

        But for now, I am in Morgantown. I'll be spending Christmas here (working) then spending the weekend at home, coming back to work 3 days, and then spending a long weekend with family. So my holiday season is looking like lots of driving back and forth. It's not all bad though, I've got some "rockin" Christmas music and a trusty passenger seat to keep me company. Also, the Christmas season has my wheels turning in a sociological way. Tune in next time for a treatise on the merging of religion and culture and man as his own god. 

Ciao 

Of Winter in Autumn and Things to Come

Four years ago, I was sitting in my dorm room at Dadisman Hall. In my hands: a CD burned by a friend for my enjoyment. The artist:David Berkeley. I was instantly awestruck, and have been a huge fan ever since. But, alas, I never made it to see him live. Last Saturday, my favorite local cereal bar hosted a concert by none other than David Berkeley. I literally could not have been more excited. Complete with steel guitar, banjo, harmonica, and trumpet, the show was nothing short of amazing, and I discovered yet another musician (what can I say? I'm a sucker for a singer/songwriter) Peter Bradley Adams. If you haven't heard either, I would strongly suggest you check them out. 

Last week, I saw the movie Role Models, and I laughed so hard I almost threw up. Now, if you know me at all, you know I tend to throw that phrase around a lot, but this is no joke. Five minutes in, I was doubled over in laughter and hyperventilating. Yes, the plot is predictable and some of the dialogue a little cheesy, but a few of the characters are undeniably hilarious. However, just because it's a movie with kids does not make it a movie for kids- lots of profanity and general crudeness. Overall grade: B- 

Today I left work at midnight to find my car donning a sturdy 2 inch coat of snow (and of course the underlying layer of ice); and me without my ice scraper. Or gloves. Or a coat. Or appropriate footwear. When I saw lightening during a snow storm, I decided the world was actually coming to its end. It was the first snowfall of the year (more than a month before the actual start of Winter), and it was not messing around.  

I've been writing again lately. I always find more inspiration in the colder months, or maybe I just find more time in my sweatpants. Some people need a space to write, I require only my sweatpants. A lot of new stuff coming out, and also the coming together of some old stuff revisited. I'm really happy with a lot of it. Perhaps I'll post something soon.

Looking ahead, next Tuesday is my 23rd birthday. Alas, I will be in Morgantown (working) and thus not with my family, but also not with my friends who will (mostly) be at their respective homes enjoying their respective Thanksgiving Breaks with their respective families. Sad, but I guess it's about time to stop making such a big deal of these things anyway. Not that I generally make a big deal of my birthdays; I actually have some of the most notoriously awful birthday stories. All I'm hoping for is to grow a year older without major catastrophic incident. If past experience has taught me anything, It seems that's enough to ask. 

So, here's to good music, inspiration, and the passing of years.    

Ciao.