So it's September 11; the 10-year anniversary of the U.S. terrorist attacks and I'm getting on an airplane home after a volleyball tournament with my team, at the Kansas City International airport. Hellooo, am I feeling good or what? Afterall, it's Missouri, and nothing happens here in the "Show-Me" state!
After a check-in and a full-body pat-down, we wait at our gate. People are chattering and the security is shutting down... why? Yes, there are more than a "normal" amount of agents and security airport officials, but it's a high-security day and I (thought I) felt good about that ("that" being the numerous people able to dog-pile me, if there might be guns and razor blades being shot around).
Except, when I call my parents and they are telling me how much they love me and they "try to tell me that everyday, and I'm hoping you know that, and I hope you're safe, and stay close to your coaches and teammates," I start to panic.
And the fact that I'm with almost all of my volleyball team because two girls and the coaches didn't make it in the security area.
And the Kansas City Bomb Squad is around the building... and we are being escorted 2-by-2 to the restroom...
"Please move to the corner of the gating area, away from the windows!!!"
Okay, I believe I'm allowed to be distracted from the huge amounts of reading and homework I have to complete by the next day; from getting home to do laundry; from everything that might be going on around me, that I'm thinking I might not find out about.... ever. Because all I can think about is that everyone is saying the "b-word," and you're not allowed to say "b-o-m-b" in an airport.
We finally get on the plane, reluctant as I am to do so, but they rush us off to Nashville... where they won't let us come to get off the plane. Because we are contaminated and have to be boarded off the plane from the runway, driven to the airport's gates, re-searched, patted down (again!), bags through security, canine dog on the plane, and watch each person go through this laborious process, like fish in in a fish tank.
People are taking pictures of our sad plane driving by, with nowhere to park.
Needless to say, when I got home, I ate a pound of carrots with peanut butter and talked myself into thinking it's been a traumatic day and I should go to bed, without showering.
It's only logical for a disheartened warrior to gain relief and her sanity with a nice slumber, without her life being threatened. So I can re-focus a distracted mind.
P.S. This should have been posted on, or close to September 11, 2011. But... you know...
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Selfish
One of the main (broad) reasons I am a "23-year-old/should'a-graduated-2-years-ago-Junior," is because I became distracted. For approximately the first 20 years of my life, I was constantly distracted by others: what they thought, how they would react to what I did, if I would upset anyone. You can imagine it's exhausting and silly! This is how the equation went... in a very unbalanced way:
My needs & wants < other people, their needs, comforts & desires
People are naturally going to judge, so why would me worrying about it matter? It really doesn't. When it comes down to it, I have no control of other people's words, actions, etc. Most people care more about themselves and what's going on in their own lives, than me and my life. It's the truth. I have even gone so far to try to make myself invisible to reach this conclusion. "If I am not here, won't people care?" The other sad truth: no. Life goes on.
The next three years, or so, have been spent figuring out a question I encourage everyone to think about... truly and deeply:
What do you want? Who do you want to be? What do you want to do? For yourself.
You don't really care, to be honest, of my answer, but I will say that self-care is the best thing a person can do for not only their life, but everyone else's. People are distractions. They put distraction in your life. When I'm able to focus on myself, the distractions become less.
So. When someone tells me I am "selfish," I cry a little inside. (And maybe outside too...) It's because I am once again focused on what other people are thinking, and how I am reflecting myself. I believed I was taking care of myself, but others see me as selfish. This= distraction in my life. Now I'm focused on how I might be acting and why I can't pay others more attention.
Rule #1 in my book: you can't take care of other people and other "stuff," until you take care of yourself. Done.
This distraction must be removed, but it's stuck to my heart for the moment...
My needs & wants < other people, their needs, comforts & desires
People are naturally going to judge, so why would me worrying about it matter? It really doesn't. When it comes down to it, I have no control of other people's words, actions, etc. Most people care more about themselves and what's going on in their own lives, than me and my life. It's the truth. I have even gone so far to try to make myself invisible to reach this conclusion. "If I am not here, won't people care?" The other sad truth: no. Life goes on.
The next three years, or so, have been spent figuring out a question I encourage everyone to think about... truly and deeply:
What do you want? Who do you want to be? What do you want to do? For yourself.
You don't really care, to be honest, of my answer, but I will say that self-care is the best thing a person can do for not only their life, but everyone else's. People are distractions. They put distraction in your life. When I'm able to focus on myself, the distractions become less.
So. When someone tells me I am "selfish," I cry a little inside. (And maybe outside too...) It's because I am once again focused on what other people are thinking, and how I am reflecting myself. I believed I was taking care of myself, but others see me as selfish. This= distraction in my life. Now I'm focused on how I might be acting and why I can't pay others more attention.
Rule #1 in my book: you can't take care of other people and other "stuff," until you take care of yourself. Done.
This distraction must be removed, but it's stuck to my heart for the moment...
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Textbook-Reading, in Real Life
I'm sitting in the courtyard at school reading a textbook... or, rather, I am people-watching. It's probably the hot-spot for Freshmen, or where the dudes scope out the newest and latest orange women who have arrived on campus. Whatever, I am fascinated with these orangette's, too. How do they look like Baked Cheetos and believe it looks natural? I should tell them about the kind of guy they are attracting (think: Jersey Shore, maybe?), and the kind of treatment they are warranting. Oh, and chick- those "nude" dance tights you're wearing? More believable skin than your face. Sorry I'm not sorry. Or, maybe I should stop eating so many carrots before I judge people with orange-tinged skin.
Distractions.
"Social psychology is the study of"... wait- observing people must be more beneficial than reading someone else's words about how to figure people out.
Right now I'm just wondering if the shady guy sitting on the bench across from me is awake. He is creeping me out, "Weekend at Bernie's"-style. Did he just move? Hat and sunglasses on (it's overcast, mmmkay), phone and hands in his lap, mouth open wide... is this just the sitting posture of a dude, or has his previous Algebra class put him into a deep comatose sleep? I don't blame him...
Class starts in six minutes. That girl with the "water bottle" in the "Drink Smart" koozie better be thinkin' what I'm thinkin'... hydrate- it is Florida, after all!
Distractions.
"Social psychology is the study of"... wait- observing people must be more beneficial than reading someone else's words about how to figure people out.
Right now I'm just wondering if the shady guy sitting on the bench across from me is awake. He is creeping me out, "Weekend at Bernie's"-style. Did he just move? Hat and sunglasses on (it's overcast, mmmkay), phone and hands in his lap, mouth open wide... is this just the sitting posture of a dude, or has his previous Algebra class put him into a deep comatose sleep? I don't blame him...
Class starts in six minutes. That girl with the "water bottle" in the "Drink Smart" koozie better be thinkin' what I'm thinkin'... hydrate- it is Florida, after all!
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