Happy Beginnings

So, as of late, there is this new song that I can't stop listening to. It's called "San Francisco" by the Mowgli's. It's upbeat, has an amazing melody, beat, and man... THAT TRUMPET. It makes me want to dance every time it comes on my iPod. Then, all of a sudden, I know the lyrics! It's amazing. Then slowly, I start to think about the lyrics I'm singing.

 "I've been in love with love,
and the idea of
something binding us together,
it's collectively unconsciously composed."

Let's think about those lyrics for a second. How often are we (or do we know someone who is) "in love with love?" They're always chasing after love. It's about the relationship, not the person. Deep, right? It's sad, but at the same time, I find myself even more fascinated with human beings through this concept. We are raised around movies and stories where the "happy ending" is finding companionship. (Belle falls in love with the Beast, Ariel gets to keep her prince and her deep sea friends, and every other romantic comedy in the world.) So as kids, we are trapped in the concept that to be happy or to have a "happy ending" we need to find companionship. Is this true?

My favorite movie of all time is Beauty and the Beast. Closely followed by Phantom of the Opera, Ever After, Tangled, The Lion King, and the pattern continues. I LOVE romantic movies, books, happy endings, and you name it. For a long time I believed that this screwed me over. When you have someone like me, you have one big problem: really high standards. People who face this problem do one of two things: They either settle for something less (because they can't find someone who meets these standards) or they just give up. I've taken both of these paths at different points in my life. I've met two men (ever) who made me believe that these fairy-tale princes actually exist.

The first was my dad. He's not perfect, of course. He and my mom have stupid little fights from time to time. But can you ever believe that Prince Charming didn't give Cinderella hell for running away with one shoe? What about Ariel trading her VOICE for Eric? They were ridiculous and the men probably teased them until they ended up in a knock down drag out. Of course, what is perfect? Maybe it's the imperfection in a relationship that makes it perfect. Maybe there is no "happy ending" only happy beginnings. So with this, I've decided every day is going to be a "happy beginning" for me.

I've realized I'm not "In love with love" but I am in love with Creation. People are so beautiful. Life is so beautiful. This sounds so corny. Don't get me wrong, I would love to meet Prince Charming who sweeps me away to infinity and beyond. I would love to travel the world with my sweetheart, then settle down on the beach and have a family. Could a girl ask for more? But my dad has given me faith that there are men out there who meet my standards. My parents, together, have made me believe in happy beginnings, here on earth. They have taught me that my "happy ending" is with God.

So, until my "happy ending" I'm going to live my life like every day is a "happy beginning." The world is a vast blanket, and I've only laid eyes on a single thread. I'll travel the world, meet new people, serve people, serve God, and if I happen to find companionship on my walk, so be it. God's will be done.

In the meantime, I am sorry I haven't posted much. My schedule has been crammed full. Between all of my final projects/tests/assignments due for school (which is over in two weeks! yay!) my jobs (Torrid, and COTA (I worked the F1 Races this last weekend)) I can't find time to breathe. If I don't post again soon, I hope everyone has a blessed Thanksgiving. I know we all have much to be thankful for.

Ignorance VS Stupidity

Today, I was browsing facebook while I was having my daily bowl of Cap'n Crunch (The kind without the berries. The delicious kind.) and my morning coffee. Its the one time of day I can just relax in the brief moment of chaos that we call college. While scrolling through, I stumbled across this video:

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=338563789621565&set=vb.515222695222591&type=2&theater

With this written in the details:

{SHOCK VIDEO: Two kids are found dead in a burning house. Their aunt shrugs it off and says that she hopes her purse with food stamps is okay.

This is Obama's America.

This is sickening and sad all at the same time.

Please LIKE, COMMENT, and SHARE this video.

An Emergency Communication to All American Patriots
Watch This Video Right Away Or You’ll Hate Yourself Later On}

Take a minute and go watch it. Seriously.

Now answer me 2 questions:
1. What the heck is wrong with this lady? She's psycho.
2. What does this woman have to do with Obama???

That's like blaming Truman, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon, Ford, Carter, Reagan and Bush for Ted Bundy. Seriously. That's just freaking stupid. There are twisted people in the world. Sick, twisted, horrible people. Ted Bundy, Adolf Hitler, Saddam Hussein, Casey Anthony, and the list goes on and on. But seriously. If you're going to blame someone for the stupidity of a person... at least make an accusation that makes sense. When you take a video of a stupid woman like that, and blame Obama (or anyone else for that matter! Blame Oprah, Donald Trump, Goat cheese!) for her stupidity and I just realize how ignorant (or stupid) you are.

Of course, I'm not trying to jump into politics here. This has nothing to do with politics. It has everything to do with stupidity and ignorance, both of which are plaguing our country. It's not just affecting our youth, though. It's contagious and has wormed its way into the minds of all ages. It's a sickness.

I can look past ignorance for the most part, because it's a lack of information. Ignorance can be helped, overcome, or whatever you want to do to fix it. Stupidity, however, is inexcusable. For stupidity, you see, is a choice to be ignorant.

This is harsh, I know. But here's how you can tell the difference between someone who is ignorant or just stupid:

So next time you're about to get worked up about an argument you're having with someone else, ask yourself these questions: "Is this person ignorant? Stupid? Will my response make me sound ignorant? Stupid?" If your answer to any of these questions is "yes," then you need to just calm down and walk away, because odds are... it's just not worth the argument. However, if your answer to all of the above is a resounding "no" then you better argue the hell out of it. Win that argument.

"Studying"

I love cold gray days. There is something so peaceful in the lingering nature of the clouds that hang above us. I'm not exactly sure what these days remind me of, but I know that I have nothing but fondness for the chill. I also love getting out of class after dark when daylight savings time is over; it makes me feel like I accomplished a lot. It's a nice feeling! I also love staring at people.

Of course, these wonderful gray days, where the sun sets by 6 has made this embarrassing hobby of mine a little bit harder, because I can't wear sunglasses. I have to mentally remind myself not to stare at people, because I'm not wearing something that hides my eyes. Personally, I would rather call it "studying" a person. It sounds a lot nicer and a lot less socially awkward.

I just felt judgement slap me in the face. But hey, that's me. I don't stare at people to judge them. I do it because I love details. I stare in your eyes while you talk because I love the freckle that sits beside your right eye. I love to notice the way your nose curves slightly at the end, or the way your muscles move beneath your skin when you run. I love to notice that you walk with a slight bounce, with your weight balanced on your toes rather than your heels. I also love to notice that you smack your mouth or moan when you eat something you love. I don't love when you do it, I just love to notice the little details about a person. It makes a person who they are. I love that. Sometimes I imagine the dialogue that goes on in your head. I find myself wondering what you're thinking about, and why it's making you fidget with your saxophone case. Sometimes I wish I could know. But maybe it's more fun to imagine. ("You" is not anyone in particular, rather a combination of people.)

Of course, I can hear my mother's voice: "Andey, it's not nice to stare." or "It's rude to stare." Or is it my mother's voice at all? This concept of etiquette has been drilled into our heads through various mediums since we were children. The blur of my mother's, meme's, and various TV mom's voices all kind of blend together, now.

It's interesting, though. Depending on the person you "study," it can be a negative or a positive thing. For example. There are some people that you can look at, and they assume that it's because you're thinking something horrible about them. I can't count the number of times that a fight would erupt in high school after a resounding "What are you looking at, bit*h?!"

But then, the other day, I had a different reaction. My roommate and I were sitting at a stop light, and it was raining quite heavily outside. My roommate laughs and says "Who does planks in the rain?!" I kind of laugh as I look over and see a guy getting up. I "study" him as he starts to walk away. He's a very nice looking man with beautiful muscles drenched in rain. He looks like he's staring at our car, and my roommate says "Andey, he's staring at us!" And I keep watching him. He can't see through the tint of my window. Suddenly, he waves. I wave back, and drive off as fast as I can. I'm not sure if I'm mortified or overjoyed that someone took staring so well!

You can tell a lot about someone, based on the way they take staring. If they freak out, they're one of two things: Paranoid or self conscious. If they embrace it, they're either crazy or way too over confident. (Both of which I admire.) So, if you catch me staring at you, don't think twice about it. I'm probably thinking about a way that I can incorporate you into one of my next stories or blogs!

"Magic"

So, blessings happen to be time consuming; Which is why I have not posted so much! 34 job applications, 4 interviews, and many long grueling months without income: I have finally started my job. Yippee! Of course, it's a VERY part time job (which is good anyways, because I happen to be a full time student), and it's already started off extremely interesting. Of course, I work with all women. I like them all so much (so far), but truthfully, I'm waiting for the claws to come out.

When women are around each other, strange things start happening. Their cycles (periods, time of month, aunt dotty, bloody Mary, etc.) start to sync up. I can think of a couple of reasons this might happen: maybe Mother Nature is lazy and only feels like making one trip,God has a thing for soap operas, or Buddha just has a sick sense of humor. Maybe there is just some kind of weird science to it all. Your guess is as good as mine. For the sake of time and lack of understanding, we'll just call it "magic."

When the magic begins, you have several different types of "cyclists." Here's a comically accurate list:

It doesn't matter which one women are, though. If you take more than one and put them in the same room, it turns into a disaster. So, as I begin working more at this all female store, as I continue living with two females, and being friends with many females... life is about to get very interesting.

To cyclists: Remember, you are in control of your actions. If you act like #2 or #7 on the list of crazies, then you will get what you deserve. If you respect others, they'll respect you. (I feel like this is just a general life lesson that everyone should know, though.) Don't use your syndrome as an excuse.

*(By the way... did you know that PMS stands for Pre-Menstrual Syndrome? I just learned that. Just so you know, there is nothing "pre" about anything that goes on with Menstrual Syndrome. I bet a man named it.)

To the men of cyclists:  Don't try to make her feel better: it won't work. Don't try to compliment her: she won't believe you. Don't try to argue with her: she will win. Give your lady some space. Or some chocolate.