Post #1: Beginnings and Endings

I like to start off everything with a quote. So here goes:

“Growing up is never easy. You hold on to things that were. You wonder what's to come. But that night, I think we knew it was time to let go of what had been, and look ahead to what would be. Other days. New days. Days to come. The thing is, we didn't have to hate each other for getting older. We just had to forgive ourselves... for growing up.”

-The Wonder Years

I think it's only fitting that this is the quote I finally decided to use for the first post that I've been putting off for weeks. I just didn't know how to begin because I felt like I had so much to explain. But you know what? In life, not all things start at the beginning. In fact, more often than not, the best stories start at the end and backtrack to explain the past.

I used to compare getting to know someone to starting to watch a television series in the third or fourth season. You get hooked, but there's still so much more to know. About the characters, their connections, their pasts. So you either go back and watch all of the previous episodes, or you put the pieces together as the series progresses. This process gets a lot more complicated the further into a series you start watching. Similarly, the older a person is when you meet them, the more baggage (both good and bad) they have to share with you before you ever really know them. Even then, there are just some things you have to have gone through with a person to truly understand them.

So, like I said, some of the best stories start at the end and then jump back to the beginning to explain how and why things turned out the way they did. This always seems to make sense to us, seeing as how hindsight truly is 20/20. Therein lies the catch-22 of life. Looking back, we can make sense of everything. As it's happening, though, we often can't step back far enough to see things clearly. We are often a mystery even to ourselves.

We really only get to see ourselves unfold at the same rate that everyone else around us does, though we may have an inside perspective. However, we can only speculate how we would or would not react to situations and never truly know how we would until we experience those things. We're all making our best efforts to get to know ourselves but are simultaneously creating those same selves. I'd like to think that everyone, in the moment, is always striving to be genuine. But because we can't ever truly know ourselves (and therefore even one another), our every word and every action is simply an allusion to who we truly are and will become. Hence the creation of the term "genuendo."

Every word I type on here is genuendo about who I am, why I'm here, and what that means, if anything. I don't know how to end this. But I'm happy about that. To beginnings!

Post #2: Being Yourself

"More and more, it feels like I'm doing a really bad impersonation of myself."

-Chuck Palahniuk

For most of my life, I've always known exactly who I am--almost to the point that I pigeon-holed myself into a certain role. I've always been the outgoing, guilt-ridden yet ironically carefree, somewhat absent-minded youngest child. Luckily, I've somewhat escaped that in dating Kyle. He lets me feel completely comfortable and confident in the decisions I make, and he always takes me seriously.

Unfortunately, I've always felt like I have to fit the roles that I've perceived any certain person may have assigned to me. I always tell myself, "Well, if they think I'm like ______, then they must think that for a reason. Something about me must be kind of like that." Then I never escape the role whenever I'm around that person, therefore proving their perceived assumptions about me to be correct. The vicious cycle continues.

Why do I let what I THINK others think affect the way I think about myself? Granted, some people never care enough about what other people think, but why do I have to care so much?

The older I get, the less I like who I am. I'm anxious, can't trust my own opinions, repeat myself, skip around when I tell stories, am late everywhere, am never quite put together, make promises I couldn't possibly keep, talk a lot, and think too much about every word coming out of my mouth or out through the tips of my fingers. I need to get back in touch with the person I am and the person I want to be. Where did I stray off course? How did I end up here? Did I ever really love myself? Or does it just seem so in hindsight? For as long as I can remember, I have worried. Worried about everything and everyone. I'm sick of it. Time for bed. More...if/or whenever I feel like it. Now that's honest.

Post #2: Chest Feeling Heavy

Every time I go to sign into Facebook, I get this heavy feeling in my chest. It's been a side effect of this social media network for as long as I can remember. "Great, what drama am I about to discover NOW? What rude comment will I see next? Who will I notice has deleted me this time?" I don't understand any of it. Sure, I'm biased, but, for as long as I can remember, I've always wanted to include everyone. I'm not necessarily calling around to invite everyone and their brother to everything, but, for the most part, I think I'm always more than happy to have more people join along in whatever I'm doing with friends or family. I've just never been really exclusive. Probably the only time I ever am is if I'm really feeling a girls' night and don't want any of our boyfriends to rain on the all-female parade. But that's not anything personal against the boys specifically. I love all of them bunches. Plus, I've probably rained on a few all-male parades in my day. In fact, I'm sure of it. Sorry to anyone whose guys' nights I may have ruined in the past.

I've only ever deleted one person on Facebook that I can remember, and it was after the person was so incredibly mean to me that I realized it was the healthy choice to cut them out of my life as much as possible. Even then, I added the person back because I didn't want to cause any problems. Gosh, I hate Facebook. I hate it with a fiery passion. Yet I don't delete it. Rather, I delete it, and then sign back in again weeks later. Why??

Well, I'll tell you why. People start forgetting you exist and stop inviting you to parties and events. "Oh, sorry, I forgot you don't have Facebook. I used a Facebook invite." You start missing out on people's pictures, and you lose touch with friends who live far away or are on vacation. You know what, though? I keep in touch with my close friends regardless of whether or not we both have a Facebook page. Maybe some relationships are meant to fade over time. We're preventing that from happening, and I'm not so sure it's always a good thing. It's just one more thing keeping us trapped in the past. I love the past, trust me. I'm one of the most nostalgic people you'll ever come across. I have difficulty throwing things away, and I shop almost exclusively at second-hand stores. It's just that some relationships aren't meant to last, and that's okay. We can always remember them the way they were; we can even idealize them if we so desire...which I usually do. I just don't think we should drag them out. We ought to quit while we're ahead more often.

If some of the relationships we have with "friends" on Facebook were to be actualized as humans, they'd be total has-beens on celebrity reality shows that leave everyone screaming at their televisions, "Give it up already! No one cares who you are anymore! Your career died in the '80s!"

The point I'm getting at is: Why do I care if someone who treats me like crap deletes me as their Facebook "friend"? Why do I beat myself up over not inviting people to my wedding when I haven't seen them for months, or even years? Because I care too much! Because Facebook has led me to believe that I need to care what all of these people think about me! But I don't! It hurts to know that someone has gone out of their way to decide they would rather take the active steps to delete you from their online lives rather than passively allow you to maintain the title of "friend." But, you know what, what better way to find out someone is a petty, asshole piece-of-shit?

So I was wrong after all. Thank you, Facebook. Now I know who my REAL friends are! Sort of.

The Generation of Genuendo

genuendo
n.[jen-yoo-en-doh] alluding to genuineness

Have you ever played those games with friends that have you asking each other questions that start with phrases such as "Would you rather..." or "If you had to choose just one..." or "If you had to be an animal..."? This is something my friends and I made a habit of back in high school. We'd ask each other hypothetical questions to pass the time and make each other laugh, so I was pretty much prepared when it came time for me to answer funny interview questions:

If you were a dog, what kind would you be? Easy, Golden retriever.

If you were a flower, what kind would you be? Daisy.

If you could have any superpower, what would it be? This is tough...I can never choose between flying and invisibility!

If you had to describe yourself in one word, what would it be? Well, genuine, of course!