A Month On-

I went for a long walk last night and talked to my mom for a long time about our own selves and about how we become the people that we are. It is a good thing to do: talking to your mother about your person. I walked the 4.5 blocks to the community garden in the dark and I met a squashed snake on the road. There was blood everywhere and I cried after I got back home. Soemtimes death doesn't bother me, but last night I was feeling raw and exposed already.
I have been graduated for a month now and I have learned so much in that time. I feel fortunate to have time to recover from grad school and from academia in general. That sounds like I am ungrateful for the education I have, and I know that that's how it sounds. I don't mean for to sound that way because I am actually quite grateful for precisely that. But there must be a reprieve. Why isn't that in the scripture someplace? It feels like natural law.
I am working at a cupcake bakery, a thing for which I am also very grateful. The work is easy and mindless and allows me the time and space to have private Robyn dance parties. I am an introvert, but I like people. The cupcake shop is ideal. That being said, I have had more dates since I graduated than any month prior. It has led me to the conclusion that I am less intimidating (A problem I have often struggled with throughout my life) now that I have a silly job. I think boys are more interested in less promising women sometimes. I'm not sure what to do with that, and maybe I am missing something. Maybe they just like cupcakes, or maybe I have gotten more pretty since I graduated. Those things seem external.
Two Christmases ago, I was in Utah with my dad's family for to celebrate the holiday. I had just completed my first semester at Nebraska, and there was a distinctive flavor of intimidation and lack of interest from my family. I am the only person from either side of my family to receive a Master's Degree in at least three generations and I got the vibe that my membership in the pack was being called into question because of my education(not to mention my marital status). As though attending BYU for my undergrad wasn't enough, the Master's sealed the deal and I was perceived as something I didn't want to be. I told my sister about my thoughts and she advised me to act dumber. It was like a revelation when I did, because suddenly I was back into the adorable position I had been in before- beloved and wanted by my family. I don't think it's really fair to ask someone to be what they aren't. This last paragraph sounds so awful and complainy, but I want to say it so that I will remember to value the accomplishments of others for the future.
I can safely say that I am friends with my mother. It is one of the most rewarding relationships in my life right now. I am working really really hard to get to that place with other people too. Mostly my dad. I need to figure out how to be kind, but also to say what I need. I am learning a lot about temperance... Study it if you can. Then tell me what you learn, ok?
My sister and my brother are remarkable people. I learned so much about and from them. I am missing them sincerely lately... which doesn't really make sense. I saw my brother less than a month ago, and I will see my sister in less than two weeks. Somehow I  feel entitled to much more time with them that I am permitted. My sister is only 18 months older than me, and so growing up, she was never very distant. Our personalities enabled us to earn from and protect and lean on one another in a very close way. I don't think I have ever learned how to be very good at being alone yet.  My brother is the one who shines at that. I need to learn how to be better at that, I think. Most of my life is alone. I need to learn how to like it better.
The question on everyone's lips now is where I am headed next. People seem shocked at the capacity I have to uproot myself and fling my life across the country. It's funny to me, but also a little astounding how little people understand my position. I sincerely love finding roots and digging deep in a place. life-flinging is not my preferred mode of living, but there is just so much world to embrace. And so I do. Maybe I need heavier anchors.
My response is never as bold as it probably should be and I more than likely sound reticent than I need or want to. I’m not sure why I do that; react that way. I guess it’s because I’m still not certain that it’s what I should be doing. 

Mostly I want to be called somewhere and to some work. I want to be wanted and needed somewhere. So I’m a normal human. I keep telling people that I am working for now at a bakery where I peddle cupcakes, but I am moving to Maui to live with Kara at the end of the summer. And I am going to drive to California before I do it and I am going to see at least seven national parks along the way. The conversation always turns out the same way: When else will there be time for this? And the answer really, is always. I think we make time for the things we love. I don’t yet know how to use the things I have learned, but I am carrying them with me even still.
I feel like that dead snake a lot of the time. I don’t think it knew what was coming and it was bigger than it probably realized (It was certainly bigger than I realized at first. All of that blood.) it was. I sometimes catch myself thinking that I have my whole life ahead of me still, but that means that I forget that I will be 28 this year and being 28 this year somehow means that I don’t actually have all that much time left.  

Crossroads (But Not The Brittney Spears Movie)

  My mom keeps trying to get me to try online dating. The concept feels so inauthentic to me that I hardly give it a second thought. After telling her about my stresses about school, being awoken by gunshots at 4 AM, and the terror of having a human body found near my house, she wanted to know my romance-related woes. Could the demons lurking under bridges in my neighborhood and in my intellectual spaces not satiate her? She needed more. Like a soap opera to which she is addicted, She wanted me to tell her everything (about one narrow topic, hitherto only a small sliver of a [my] very rich life). 

  I told her everything there was to tell. I spare no detail with her sometimes.

  And then she (again...) asked if I thought online dating wasn't a good idea. After all, she found her last few boyfriends on various websites. My sister chimed in, for she too was an internet success story. They even offered to craft an online presence for me. While I think their concern is somewhat warranted and their offer indubitably kind, I'm just not convinced that a website will fit the bill.  Is this what we have come to as a people? Are we so replete with authentic human interactions that we are capable of boiling ourselves down to a webpage and advertising the hell out of ourselves, pimping our education and our favorite films, music and qualities about ourselves? I guess I just think some things require actual interaction. Some things must be felt.

We then got into a discussion about what was wrong with me. 

  The topic did not help me feel too nice.

  WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!??! 

  Time to say farewell to my pride. Yet again.

 Historically speaking, my family hasn't really been one to put much pressure on us for not dating or being in a relationship or being married. I have spent time being grateful for the breathing space. This was especially poignant after my parents' marriage dissolved after 27 years. I too needed to give myself time and mental hiatus. But looking back, I think I may have stopped pushing myself, stopped progressing and learning how to trust and interact appropriately with the male sex. I have installed mental blocks that are making it really, really hard to jump beyond myself. I want to jump, but those blocks are making it hard for me to see that I might land on the other side. They make it hard to see if it's worth it to try. I am not interested in blaming others for my lack. I want to feel empowered to act on my own behalf.

  And maybe now, my parents are beginning to feel the fact of the time-lease that is their daughter's female body. My body. The prospect of progeny is an enticing one for them, it seems; perhaps I do not provide them with enough charm any longer as a 26 year old child.

  I read an article about the word gals. The word, as the article's author seems to understand, is... well... stupid. But she makes a point in saying that, 

that mantle of womanhood can be too heavy—many of us who are the right age to have sympathized with Britney Spears when she sang "I'm Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman" in 2001 are still stuck in between (I was 16 at the time that song came out) . As a 20-something female, there are moments, romantic and professional and Shania-Twain-approved, when I feel like a woman. Other times, I really do feel like a girl (though not as often as I am called one). I never feel like a lady except in announcements made also to gentlemen and I only feel like a dame when I watch old movies. What I feel like most of the time is a guy. A female guy.

  This comes, appropriately, on the heel of hearing a lecture last week entitled "Guyland" at a gender studies conference at which I was a (grown-ass-woman) panelist. The lecture was largely casually written off as pop-sociology. But to some extent, my attention was caught in the idea of extended adolescence and the allure of irresponsibility, ad infinitum. The prospect of being a "forever-dude" is certainly an entertaining one that smacks of fountains of youth and promises eternal springtime filled with "going to shows, bro", and staying up until three AM eight nights in a row. Filled with the stuff of college and flexing your wings for the first time, rather than learning that wings were meant for long-distance, stamina- requiring flight. Wings are meant for adult things like paying bills on time and regularly brushing your teeth before going to bed. Wings that are meant to bear and teach babies.The guyland appeal fights with my determination to age honestly and gracefully into a wise, wizened, and self- actualized old woman one day. I can see myself as that: I'm old and wonderful and kind.

  But for now I am 26 years old.

  Today.

  And today I wrote a professor from my undergrad to see if there would be a teaching position for me in the summer. That's right. That's me today: actualizing real, grown ass-woman, careersy aspirations. I don't know if I will get the job. I will keep you posted on that, but I am making strides.  This is one of those "Shania-Twain-approved" occasions. My mom never asked about it. I didn't push the topic.

  I understand that my zeal for education and a career might seem antithetical to the accepted roles outlined here. I don't know to what extent I am prepared to submit to those fully just yet, but I think that I want a family. I sometimes see babies and want to cry at how much I want to touch them. I think I would be a good mom. I think I have the capacity to love small things and make real food for real small humans. I am good at comforting babies and helping them feel loved. I am good at teaching them about the world, how wonderful and full it can be; I am good at inspiring wonderment and imagination. I am good at playing with them and helping them laugh. I want to make real promises to a real man human and make real things happen with him. I want to do that in a certain sacred place, wherein we will incur the permission of Heaven. I really do want that.  I feel it very deeply and feel powerful in writing that down.

  But I also can admit and embrace that my career-related aspirations might be somewhat intimidating to real human men/potential marriage prospects (this isn't the appropriate place to discuss my opinions about men who are intimidated by successful women, but know that I have a few). And my object in clinging so desperately to the hope of career opportunities is not grown from subversion, rebellion or even in doubt or fear. It's rooted in the feeling of ability and control (it is somewhat vulnerable-making to explain this here). 

  My career is the only thing in which I feel validated to satisfactorily control. It is the one thing in which I feel a degree of autonomy based on my own abilities and skills; the arena in which I can thrive at being ambitious and definite in pursuing the thing that I want. I do not feel this validation in my relationships with men, nor in my friendships with human beings of either gender. I frequently take the role of passive acceptor. This role often leads to being alone, and sometimes (not always, but sometimes) being alone leads to being lonely. I am learning that I cannot be antonymous on a project which inherently requires the contribution of two. There is certainly pride tied up in the focus on education and career. Pride, of which I am leery, as I know the dangers and pitfalls of pride intimately well. I read stories about it every day from this book that I'm kind of in to. I need to move and be moved, see and be seen. Perhaps that is the key to finding a successful relationship; admission that I cannot control things/others/fate?

  It's time to say farewell to my pride again. 

  How do you submit to waiting?

  Is there a better location than Guy/Gal Land? My lease here might be up; rent certainly is cheap, but there are too many dead bodies showing up in ravines and shooters lurking in the neighborhood.

 

I'm BACK!!!

I'm going crazy, I think.

I am way too overloaded for any sanity to survive.

That all being said, I realize that I haven't posted for over a month!!!

-This is utterly unacceptable-

So. Updates.

It's getting warm. I think I might have a mild case of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), because I have had the hardest month. For two days when it snowed, I didn't leave my room. This terrible early 90's song seemed an appropriate soundtrack for my life...

So I'm up. I'm out of bed. The sun seems like it stays up for longer, and that is a happy thing for me. There a crocuses blossoming in my yard, a sure sign that glorious Spring is on the horizon. I can shake off the SAD-ness, and again regain my sanity- search under my crushing busy-ness.

To help this quest, I have made a goal. I want to get into the 'Cupcake Fad' currently so popular in all glorious cities.

I want to bring it to Happy Valley, and make it
work for me. I am going to be the cupcake czar of Utah Valley
and this is going to make me rich...

Well, kinda.

I am looking into
the local towns' fairs and city celebration days, as well as the local
business-fostering Provo Farmers' Market. I think there's a strong
market for deliciousness in these places.

So. I am looking for recipes. I have some GREAT ideas for things, but I am always happy to hear new thoughts.

ALSO, I am willing to bake for events: parties and family gatherings... did you ever think of having a wedding cupcake- cake to save space, hassle, money, and to accommodate the various tastes of all your guests? I want to make it for you. I hope it gets off the ground- People in Utah LOVE food. We LOVE clean, seemingly family-and-food-oriented fun, and this is a fantastic way to go. I am willing to make a go of it. More deets to come on that project...

Also, I have an exciting news update: my mom is coming to visit. I know that we'll have a grand adventure... I am making a paper chain until the day she gets here. I've been missing her a lot lately, and it will be good to see her and spend time with her. She is goodness.