Category Archives: Sincerity and stuff

How Elizabeth I taught me to stop Facebook-stalking men

I haven’t written about romance or relationships before. If you have read my posts before, you know I am very honest. But speaking of insecurities related to love puts one in a vulnerable position. What if someone should misunderstand and think of me not as someone who may have valuable experience and advice, but as a single girl publicly trying to affirm her comfort in singlehood while secretly wallowing with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, pining after all the men I have and haven’t dated?

But I decided it’s silly to over-analyze how others perceive these posts. I mean to share experiences and insights, and if this does not come through the way I intend, that’s just the way it is.

It can be confusing to navigate my thought process – like a road trip with many U-turns, I’m never sure where I’ve been until I look back on my map of mistakes and annoyingly helpful GPS instructions. But there you are.

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Singlehood anxiety

Last week, another Facebook friend got engaged. Good for her, I tried to think, suppressing my immediate anger because I know such an emotion is an inappropriate response to two people declaring their undying love and commitment.

Good for her.

I imagined her entering lifelong romance, going through life in the type of ridiculous activities you see in bad romance movies – eating breakfast in a Tuscan villa, rowing across a swan-covered lake at sunset, becoming two old people who eat sandwiches on park benches and feed the leftovers to the same pack of swans as earlier. Swans are weird.

Once the scenes began to fade, the feeling of injustice welled up again. Where are my swans? Where is my Tuscan villa? Why should this girl get to marry Hugh Grant when I’m her equal in conversation, wardrobe and music tastes? What else do I need to find Hugh Grant? Posters advertising “Single man with Ryan Gosling’s face, Edward Norton’s brains and Mark Ruffalo’s sense of humor, apply here for position of serious boyfriend”?

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I began to analyze my past romances and male friendships, wondering if I had passed Mr. Right already while distracted by a shoe sale, graduation or lunch time. What if my soul mate had walked by just as I stooped to tie my shoe? The possibility of being alone forever because I had neglected to invest in Velcro was unbearable.

I even began to Facebook-stalk old friends, the purpose for which I believe Facebook was truly intended, just in case I missed someone along the way.

Waste. Of. Time.

While I was analyzing, idealizing and wondering, I could have been doing something that mattered. Instead of scrutinizing someone else’s personality, I could have been holding a magnifying glass to myself. I could have asked myself:

  1. How would a relationship help me be happy?
  2. Do I really have such low self-esteem that I think I missed out on love because of who I am?
  3. What has being single taught me?

If I had started answering these questions when I was 14 years old, I would have saved myself a lot of pain and time over the years. But at least I’m trying to answer them now.

  1. A relationship could give me affection, seeing myself through someone else’s eyes, and understanding another person.
  2. I am a confident, well-adjusted person with a great capacity for understanding myself and others. Some days, I think I’m Wonder Woman.
  3. I do not depend on another person for emotional security. When I’m alone, I usually don’t long for someone else to come in the room. I feel confident going to a party by myself, and leaving by myself.

Then I thought about marriage, which can be such a beautiful and difficult thing (I’m told).

I thought of how badly marriage can be if it’s rushed. I thought about why it can be rushed – a need for emotional security? Baby on the way? Arranged marriage?

I thought about the young divorcees I know, and how painful it must be when reality does not meet expectations.

I thought about couples who become so dependent on each other, they can’t stand to be apart for one night. Do I want to be in that relationship?

relationsheep

I think relationships can be wonderful experiences that help us to grow into better people. But there is nothing wrong with patience, with being comfortable alone, with waiting for a relationship that doesn’t fill a void, but adds some topping to your metaphorical cheesecake that can also stand just as well alone.

It’s good not to feel I need a relationship. It feels healthy, clean and strong. Not to say I would turn down a relationship if it felt right, but I’m not less of a person because I’m single. After all, there are no swans and Tuscan villas in life. Well there are, but not in this metaphor. There is hard work, understanding, and there is a time for everything.

Elizabeth I never married. She is one of the most memorable English queens, perhaps because she wasn’t busy Facebook-stalking the pizza guy to see if their zodiac signs were compatible. (I would have liked her to one day find the Victorian version of Hugh Grant. But I suppose she was happy.)

Maybe I, too, can give something to the world instead of focusing on what’s missing in my own life.

So that’s the story of why I stopped Facebook-stalking single guys. Sorry, Zuckerberg.

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The life-plan, Part II / Cheers to the New Year

December 2014 is so far the most interesting month I’ve experienced my 22.5 years of life.

It began with the decision to officially move on from The Emporia Gazette as of New Year’s Eve. It was the best decision I have made (so far). Ever since I was in kindergarten, I thought being a writer was the coolest profession in the world. (Well, it might have tied with the construction industry. Cool hats.) I connected “Being a Writer” with composing fairy tales, probably by a fireplace while wearing a sweet Irish-cabby hat. Oh, and I would have a giant wolf-hybrid. That was very important.

I can't go for the dress, but check out the hat!

However, writing is one of the few things no one encourages you to do professionally. Sure kid, you can be a ballerina, a fireman or an astronaut. But a writer? Not on the inspirational poster! Of course, that could be because most adults are not writers and never wanted to write post-ACT. And who can blame them? Sitting in an isolated room every day trying to invent things no one will publish for not much money does not sound as cool as ballet, or even teaching.

Good rule of thumb.

But I wanted to write. Because I wasn’t ready to put creative writing in my life-plan I majored in journalism, a close cousin. I learned plenty. If you have experience as a good journalist, you can observe, question, edit, and write short and fast. Write every day because it’s your job. Cut out the adjectives. In fact, cut out everything but the bare bones, plus maybe a hat and a scarf for color.

If I had stayed in Emporia, I would have become too comfortable to risk leaving. What a blessing to leave early, before the connections I made would become stronger and painful to sever. Comfort can be a fatal risk. I love comfort. I love Netflix, frozen food, my new heated mattress pad, playing Tetris, et al. But comfort has potential to transform into fear of losing stability, and that can’t always factor into important decisions. Especially when you have no responsibilities except not to starve, which is virtually impossible with a piggy bank of quarters and the option of Top Ramen. (Well I say that now…)

Yes, lets!

I trust my gut. It says I should do what I love, even if it’s illogical and risky. I’m young and untethered, and if things go really wrong, I’ll become a homeless puppeteer. (Hey, at least I have a plan Z!) It took a split-second to choose creative writing first, because it’s my first love and I know I can do it. Last night it took about six minutes to decide I’m applying for Master of Fine Arts programs inside and outside of Kansas, because nothing is keeping me here. Well my family is here, but who knows if they’ll be here in five years and they probably want me to Carpe Diem and all that stuff. The point is I’m 22, single, and just stupid enough, I have a plan, and I’m working hard.

(I am by no means expecting acceptance. Getting into an MFA creative writing program is like being accepted by Harvard Law.  But who knows? If not this year, I’ll try again. I’m learning plenty, and I’m happy with whatever the world has in store.

So here’s to the New Year! As always, I resolve to eat less sugar, be more present, do an hour of yoga each day and join a Tibetan monastery. (Just kidding. But I will eat less sugar so my foot doesn’t fall off, and I may join a gym or take pole-dancing classes. Pole-dancing is irrelevant to my life-plan.)

But above all, I challenge everyone to find one thing you want to do but aren’t doing … and to start doing.

For translation, see above text.

Goodbye, Emporia

It’s time for a difficult post. I’m leaving Emporia by Christmas, and I’m leaving The Emporia Gazette one week from Thursday. Life in this kind-hearted town has taught me plenty, not to mention all I’ve learned as a journalist.

Interviewing and telling stories teaches you to see people through a strangely honest lens that few can access. I made plenty of mistakes. But I also learned plenty. I learned how to ask the right questions — the ones that show I’m not just interested in the two-paragraph scoop, but  that I sincerely care about what people have to say.

My most memorable assignments include:

  • An area UPS driver who does beautiful woodworking on the side
  • A fatal motorcycle accident
  • A juvenile tried for aggravated robbery
  • Puppies swimming in a pool
  • A woman recovering from a multiple-story fall with her community’s help
  • Our nationally watched governor’s campaign
  • Why Emporia does and doesn’t want chickens
  • A girl battling a lifelong genetic disorder
  • Every story that shows Emporia’s desire to grow

I learned what it’s like to work in city government, how to get along with cops, why problems happen, how to work in an office, and why people work as hard as they do. I worked under pressure, found my own stories, worked two beats and created relationships. The lessons I learned from this job are unbelievably invaluable. Thank you to everyone who has helped me grow during my time in Emporia.

I'm going to miss watching reporters like Jessie hide from the public.
I’m going to miss watching reporters like Jessie hide from the public.

Ultimately, it has become clear that newspaper journalism is not the field for me. Long-term survival requires a toughness, cynicism and skepticism that I don’t have and don’t want. Part of journalism is about stress, a 24/7 schedule, working holidays and sacrificing too much for a career path I sincerely respect, but never really wanted. I’ve always wanted to earn money writing, and journalism seemed the most practical way to achieve that. But in the end it’s constant stress, and it’s a distraction from a risk I have always wanted to take.

I filled all these notebooks with good stuff. Plus three others.
I filled all these notebooks with good stuff. Plus three others.

Small Town Field Guide will continue under the same name in Kansas City for a short time, then in Wichita for (hopefully) a long while. I see no reason why the blog should stop, simply because I will no longer live in a small town. Thank you for your support so far. This has been a fun release from work, and it’s sparked my interest in web publishing and humor writing.

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I will miss living on this street.

Next, I want to join a workforce of the most impractical people known to society: creative writers. I will now have more time to write, work and in a craft I have always loved before any other interest. After I find a job (That’s right, Mom! A real job!) and apartment (complete with a cat) in Wichita, I plan to work toward a Master’s of Fine Arts in Creative Writing at Wichita State.

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Wichita State has a great creative writing program. The point of an MFA is not to apply to a specific job, or for a line on my resume. I plan to write long-term on the side while earning money in copywriting, freelancing or public relations. Working daily with a community of serious and talented writers would be an incredible opportunity. I’m confident I’ll one day be able to support myself through a variety of writing forms (fiction, blogging, web copy, etc).

I have loved my time in Emporia. The sweet old ladies who call the newsroom, early closing hours and cute historic buildings are endearing and keep their history well. The people here are the best. However, I am excited to return to friends in Wichita, where all the grocery stores have conveyor belts and 20 varieties of potato chips.

Ready for my next road trip.
I am ready for my next road trip.

I am so thankful for my time at The Gazette and in Emporia. The people I met taught me plenty, and I’ll carry those lessons with me. For now, it’s time to say thank you, and goodbye.

(Well, I’ll stick around for another week or so. Then it’s goodbye.)

Ciao, baby!

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P.S. Emporia: Let’s get a beer sometime. FYI, I’m not buying.

The thanks list

It’s Thanksgiving in Emporia. That means everything is closed. Everything. Store owners hung cute signs saying “We’re closed Thursday, Friday and Saturday to give our employees time with their families” because they value family over extra profits. The holiday wreaths are lining Commercial Street lampposts, and I feel a nip in the air.

Here’s a cool song by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes: “One love to another”

I’ll make this short so you can go back to eating that turkey leg.

I’m thankful for:

  • The warm dog by my side (who lived through the night, thank you)
  • Patient, loving family
  • The poached egg on my plate
  • My cozy apartment (first place I’ve had to myself)
  • The friends coming to spend Thanksgiving with me (Tai and Bill!)
  • A workplace that celebrates the hallowed Bacon Day
Why oh why was I sick on Bacon Day?
Why oh why was I sick on Bacon Day?
  • Creativity I can grow through music and writing
  • Living in a cool country
  • British accents
  • Harry Potter
Yer a wizard, Harry!
Yer a wizard, Harry!
  • Chocolate pie
  • Cute clothes
  • Telling people’s stories every day through my job
  • The feeling of confidence and comfort in my own skin
  • A town that’s sweet and traditional, yet growing each day
my street1
Perfect for a small-town noir film….
  • My stellar taste in music
  • My guitar
  • My camera
  • The TV without cable for which I will one day buy a DVD player
  • Netflix on my laptop!
  • Modern medicine
  • The fact that I’m not a Scottish barbarian who has to kill Longshanks to survive
I know, Mel. I know.
I know, Mel. I know.
  • Friends who live in other cities, other states and other countries, yet still keep a relationship with me alive
  • Native Americans
  • Trees
  • Being barefoot
  • The ability to put myself in someone else’s shoes
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When I step into someone else’s shoes, sometimes they’re really cute and I don’t give them back.
  • A candle that smells like leather, tobacco and woods
  • Lord of the Rings
  • Forgiveness and stuff
  • Good food
  • The ability to love
  • The fact that most problems eventually turn into something good
Like this lamppost...symbolism and stuff!
Like this lamppost…symbolism and stuff!

Comment here or on Facebook: What are you thankful for?

Life in between

For the lucky few people who are thrilled by uncertainty, come back Wednesday.

I struggled whether to keep this blog strictly comedic — lists of how to drink like a small-town journalist (ooh that’s a good idea), diner recipes, etc. Or, I could write sincere posts. The truth is, I love being funny, but you know how spicy variety is for life and stuff.

First sincere topic: The in-between

Life in between is like a swinging pendulum, suspended in space without control. It’s why the middles of movies are the most suspenseful, uncomfortable and terrifying. But it’s also what makes the scene before credits the sweetest.

Ask anyone about the scariest moments in their life. They’ll say it’s losing a job, when the house burned down, the death of a best friend, basically when the walls of certainty began to collapse inward.

We miss you.
Philip Seymour Hoffman was just the best.

As the late Philip Seymour Hoffman said in “Doubt”: “Doubt can be as powerful and sustaining a bond as certainty.”

A large chunk of our lives are in between things. We’re between careers, between coffee and a lunch break, between cigarettes, between relationships. We’re waiting for the next thing that will give us a quick break, fill us up before it knocks us on our ass all over again.

When I moved to Emporia, I found myself once again in a new city where I knew no one. I moved into an apartment, where I would live alone for the first time. It was almost as frightening as moving to Bulgaria for a semester — but this was more permanent. I could grow roots.

Thankfully, Emporia is also between Wichita and Kansas City, where I have good friends and family. I found more friends and connections here, in a welcoming new home.

The only way to get through the uncertainty is to accept it. The truth is that nothing worthwhile is about the prologues or chapter endings. The best stuff is in between. Unless you’re talking about Powerpoint slide transitions. Don’t use those. No one likes words to spiral upside down.

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  • Case A: Oreos
  • Case B: Seven-layer cake
  • Case C: Pastrami sandwiches
  • Case D: Bookends (I’m out of foods.)

In between is when the good stuff happens. We figure out why we can still stand straight. It’s when we discover that we never really needed the thing we lost to survive (although life was good because it was there). Until the next thing comes along, we’ll be OK. We’ll spend some time with ourselves.

So enjoy the transitions. Real ones are even better than Powerpoint or Oreos.