Update: Insanity is awful and I find myself cursing Shaun T on a daily basis. However, I did get a positive response from Roy while trying on bathing suits when he said “Wow, look at your stomach!” Positive reinforcement is the best motivator. So I’m powering through with my man, Shaun and his insane workout. Looking forward to the final results.
I’m starting Insanity tonight. I’m terrified.
Cutest dog ever
I haven’t blogged in a while and I feel guilty about it. Day to day I just feel like I don’t have anything overly interesting to share or say. However, I decided I need to be more self-assured and maybe part of that is writing more. It’s not like anyone really reads this stuff anyway, so why not just let it all out.
So, anyway— even though I’ve been out of school for 8 months now, I still try to keep up with what’s going on over at Elon’s iMedia program. This week they finished working on their fly-in projects. Small groups of students visited Costa Rica, Panama, Mexico and Iceland and worked for nonprofit agencies to develop interactive initiatives. They’ve posted some of their work and it all looks great. They aren’t professionals yet, but the work they’ve done is pretty darn close. Check these 2 out:
You come to a point in life where you stop asking Santa or mom and dad or your boyfriend or whoever, for things you want for Christmas, and start asking for things you need. Maybe not everyone goes through this. But at 23, and on an intern’s salary, there are a lot of things I go without.
One of the most annoying things I have to live without is a washing machine. If it wasn’t for Roy letting me do my laundry at his place every week, I’d probably smell really bad. There are a lot of cooking supplies that I go without, as well. I try to cook at least 3 nights a week. Not like heating up a lean cuisine, either. No, I mean real slaving over a hot stove, chopping veggies and using spices and seasonings kind of cooking. I’m not bragging. It’s just the cheapest way for me to eat well. So ya know, it’d be nice if I actually had a ceramic baking dish or an apple slicer or a vegetable peeler
I’m not really complaining because these aren’t significant things that I’m going without. I’m not going without food or water or electricity or housing. In the grand scheme of things, I live better than most people around the world. And for that I am grateful.
However, I’m not in a position where I can run out to the store and spend $30 on a ceramic dish, much less $500 on a washer/dryer. So, I make do with what I have and really, besides this blog post, I don’t complain about it very much.
But, when Christmas and birthdays come around, I know that I have the chance to finally ask for the things that would make my life easier. This leads me to my next story: the epic tale of Jordan v. the vacuum cleaner.
Anyone who knows me, has lived with me or has been to my home knows that I am a neurotic clean freak. I Lysol and sweep my kitchen 3-5 times a week. I make my bed most mornings. I never leave dirty clothes on the floor. I don’t leave my toothbrush hanging over the ledge of the sink. Roy, bless his heart, is not as tidy as I am, and he can attest to the visible difference in my mood and demeanor compared to when I’m in a very organized and clean location vs. a messy or cluttered area.
So, when my vacuum cleaner stopped working a few months ago, things really went downhill in my life. I have been borrowing Roy’s vacuum for when I want things to get really clean. I’ve also spent time on my hands and knees using handheld mini vacuums. My dog sheds, so in order for me to feel like my house is clean, I’d need to vacuum at least twice a week. This became impossible when my vacuum stopped suctioning and started pushing the hair into clumps around my home.
So, I decided that I would ask for a vacuum cleaner for Christmas from my parents. I would forgo the list of things I want: new boots, warm winter clothes for work, cable television during basketball season; and ask instead for the only thing that could satisfy my neurotic cleaning tendencies.
However, last night, in a fit of frustration, I decided to take on the dreaded vacuum cleaner once and for all, and see if there was anything I could do to get it to start working again. I downloaded the owner’s manual online (because obviously I threw the original away when I bought the thing) and got to work. In what could only be described as an hour and a half of vacuum rape, I unclogged the hose and voila!, I once again had a working vacuum.
This was hands down one of the most triumphant moments of my adult life. If there was a Nobel Prize for vacuums, I would have won it. Not only did I do this all by myself, but now, I can maybe even ask my mom and dad for something I want for Christmas! I’m sure that to most people, this wouldn’t seem like a big deal. But to me, it was a testament to the fact that I am an independent woman who can take care of herself and fix things herself. I don’t need no man to do my bidding.
So I guess all this rambling is about growing up. It’s about the emergence from dependent to independent. From a girl to a woman. From prioritizing what you need, rather than asking for what you want. When we are kids, we all want to grow up so that we can do whatever the Hell we want. And now that I’m an adult, I wish I could be a kid again, so I could do whatever the Hell I want.
I had this image when I was 15, 16, 18, 21—that I would have my life together as soon as I graduated from college. While I’m finding that unfortunately, that is far from the case, I’m really enjoying the trip I’m taking into adulthood. The little triumphs, like my vacuum cleaner tale, are a small part of the grander journey I’m taking.
I wish I could be Joan every day. Sexy, fierce, confident, smart… the perfect woman.