5 Things I Am Notorious For

We all have something that has been defined as our typical behavior. “Classic you.” For some, it might be struggling with using the term “like” or “whatever” more than the average person actually does anymore. Maybe it’s that you always totally rock big, baggy sweaters and the messy bun. Maybe it’s that you love a movie so much you talk about it on the daily (I knew someone like this with the Titanic.) It could be anything. Here’s 5 things I’m known for.

  1. My coffee addiction
    I knew I was officially addicted when “I can quit anytime I want to” turned into “I’ve tried to quit caffeine three times and I promise I will never leave you again, my precious, lovely, caffeinated, liquid form of life force.”

  2. Not necessarily being fully aware of my surroundings
    I’m not really used to thinking before I say things. I talk too loud when out with my family at a restaurant. When I was little, I would walk through the grocery store with my mom in a bizarre way to walk (arms swinging, leapfrogging, you name it). One memory I distinctly still remember was one time when I was in first grade: two first grade classrooms were conjoined with a shared bathroom. Well, I was the only one in there, and so I just went and sang my little heart out. When I got out of the bathroom, my teacher commented on how much I love to sing. I knew in that moment that, not only had my teacher and class all heard me sing in the bathroom, but the other class must have as well. Oops.And really, this list goes on. In fact, one more example of this is something that happened at work… We servers were talking about what holidays we were working (between Thanksgiving, Christmas Day, and Christmas, we all had to work 2). One of my coworkers was working all three. I felt really sad because he must have wished she could be with her family. My stupid brain’s way of expressing this daftly came out as “What? Don’t you have any family??”   She didn’t. Her mom had also passed away within a year ago. When I talked to her about it, she said she was totally fine (and we’re still on great terms today) but the mortification still hants me (especially because I know, no matter how “fine” she was, I’m sure it still bothered her). It’s these kinds of things that creep into my brain when I’m lying awake at night.
  3. Over-thinking things
    I wish I could somehow make some money off of every time some one told me I think too hard about everything. Inner conflict, perfectionism, and self-doubt often draw me into a pensive quietness and I just get really conflicted, guilty, and grumpy. And, frankly, this is whatever. I know this is just how I am, and I’m going to over-analyze everything. Over the years, and as I learn more about life, people, and myself, this habit has become less of an issue, but it’s definitely still something I get  told.
  4. Laughing at my own jokes
    Hey. I think everyone should laugh at their own jokes. You laugh when something’s funny, and you know you just totally nailed that timing and phrasing for the perfect humorous comment. Enjoy it. There was a time when I said something, giggled at myself, and then a coworker said “I bet you’re also one of those girls who starts telling a joke, and then starts laughing in the middle of it because she knows how funny the punchline is.”  Welp, that was curiously perceptive.And true. I do that. And I love it.  Why is it so cool to say something funny and not laugh at yourself? Are we supposed to be too cool for our own jokes? It kind of makes me think about those guys in movies who slowly and calmly walk away from a giant, firey explosion. If I were in the viscinity of a fire, I would totally freak out and run away from it and/or hide! And in this metaphor, my jokes are the giant, firey explosions. And I laugh at them. (This is also important for those situations where no one else gets your funny comment. In these times, you just can’t let such hilarity gold go to waste).

    I dunno. Maybe I just didn’t get the memo that we shouldn’t do this. I don’t care, and I proudly own up to it.

  5. Being good at being bad at telling stories
    When I asked some people I know for ideas for this list, my sister, parents, and best friend all said I should include “telling great stories.” Well. This isn’t really true. I may have good stories in my head that I want to share, but my actual story-telling abilities have received criticism including: a) I laugh at my own hilarity (as we’ve discussed), b) I usually fail to follow the whole build-up, climax, conclusion progression and my stories often end without  big, satisfying payoff. This sometimes makes people feel like they’re hanging, and some people (like my sister) find this awkward story-telling style all the more funny. Others (like my boyfriend) respond with ” ‘kay, cool” and laugh because of how badly I told it. But I am really good at being bad at telling stories. People laugh, people cry, people love my stories! At least up until they find out there’s no good, satisfying ensing or punchline or find themselves sitting and listening to me for longer than they gambled they would.

    I am also never concise when I’m talking. I regularly get looks or comments regarding how much shorter I could have made a story or a response. I’ll use too many details, repeat myself, or just keep talking once I’ve sufficiently responded to some one. My parents always tried to make me aware of this when I was little. I have no idea if I was even worse back then and I’ve gotten better, or if I just never tried to get better.

    Either way, this is something else I know is just a part of who I am and how I communicate. Some people think it’s dumb and some get a kick out of it. I’ve come to the point where I’m just going to say what I want to say how I want to say it. It’s harmless, and I don’t know any other way to share my stories.

What about you? What are some things you know you are known for? Any “classic you” habits and moments? Do tell!


The post that was harder to write than I thought, and is a little more personal than I’d like.

My sister has got it figured out. Her first job was a summer internship at the place my dad works at. In the Fall, they asked her to stay with them, and soon offered her to be full-time. She never had to put in applications all over town, or go job hunting on a rainy day, running into every store in strip malls asking if they’re hiring. She moved out as soon as she turned eighteen. Like I could ever imagine affording that. She just got married at age twenty in March of 2010. She never had to go through a post-graduation, pre-anything-meaningful-in-life, quarter-life crisis or anything. Not only is her life fulfilling, simplistic, and everything she’d always wished it would be, it’s everything I wished my life would be.

There she is, happily married, has always had an enjoyable and rewarding job, loving being a wife and cooking and working out and trying new things, driven, and being exactly where she feels she is meant to be. And here I am. I graduated High School last summer, and then went away to a wonderful school that I loved, only to be flipped on my head. My Vocal Performance major, which had been all I had known, ended up not being what I loved or thrived doing. Linguistics, my new focus, was not offered as a degree at that school. Also, it turned out that I actually felt limited and trapped on campus rather than the “Go, be free and independent!” that freshman year of college is supposed to promise.

So I came home. I transferred to my local community college, taking some courses that will work towards my degree (nothing specialized, unfortunately – just Spanish, film, English Comp, etc.). Now, I NEVER imagined myself being here. I still kind of can’t believe I’m here. Unlike my sister, I am exactly where I never hoped or thought or imagined I would be. I’m going to community college. I’m working a part-time job, to make money, to buy gas, to drive to my part-time job. I then come home, where I live with my parents, and put up with three obnoxious, past-their-cute-prime, eat-my-favorite-articles-of-clothing dogs. I have a car that thinks going into the shop once a week is a spa treatment – seriously, it’s been in the shop three or four times in one month.  I didn’t just come back home to figure out what to do next, or to work and get my degree, I came home to an unfriendly not-so-welcome into the grown-up world of court dates, used car shopping, boss issues, and realizing just how unaffordable and tedious being a grown up is.

I’ve been feeling a heck of a lack of drive. There’s no diploma I’m working for, or a career I can’t wait to start and do things with, or anything like that. The next thing in life I’m really looking forward to or excited about is getting married, starting a family, being a good housewife and mom and cooking and laughing. But it’ll be quite some time until I (or my significant other) can afford a wedding and place to live. And so it’s turned to myself. The only thing I can think to set goals with is to work out X many times a week, or tone up this or that part of my body. But even that gets old and tiring and discouraging.

My mom’s been bugging me about getting back into extracurricular activities that I loved in high school, which are not as easy or simple to get involved with or that have a point as when they’re run by your school (for example, working towards a recital or concert or opening night of the Spring musical). There is an audition for a play I’m going to do, but that’s in June (and as I’m writing this, it just hit me that maybe my week away in Georgia to see my best friend in July might hinder that involvement. I know a lot of times, they want some one who will be at every rehearsal – especially for any role bigger than “Chorus Dancer #6” or “Frightened Inmate #3”). I’ve been encouraged to call my high school voice teacher to begin lessons again – which I probably will, and I’ll enjoy it, but it’ll just be to pass the time. I know now that I don’t want a vocal arts career and so I don’t know if I’ll see much reason to it other than to just further improve my skills for… what, exactly?

When I put in a lot of job applications around town when I first transferred back home, two places were interested: a sandwich shop in the town right down the road, and the Cafe I work at now, which offered me an interview and job sooner than the former had. That being said, the sandwich shop did call me twice about an interview, but I had to tell them I just couldn’t add on another job with being in school and already working part time. However, now that school is over, I called them and asked about an interview to possibly add it on as a second job. But they seemed hesitant about reconciling my current sporadic schedule and about the number of people they already have that will discontinue their employment there in the fall when school starts up again (I’ll probably just go on with my current job and school schedule, like I did last semester), and that they would call me back. And I don’t know if I really want them to ask me to come in. I don’t know if I want a second job because I might as well make money if I have time on my hands, or if I think it could be fun or if I actually don’t want it but for some reason think it might be enough of a change in my life to make things interesting. I might have a new goal of learning how things worked and the recipes and the menu. I just don’t know.

So this is where I’m left. To all of you who have it figured out and are happy and fulfilled with your lives, congratulations. You’re very fortunate to be in your position and I hope it continues to give you many years of contentment. And for all those like me, I’m sure we’ll get through and something exciting and meaningful will happen to us eventually.

And I’m just trying to figure out where to go from here.

Forget it all. F5.

Maybe the reason it seems that almost everybody wants some one else’s hair, or wardrobe, or singing voice, or body, etc. is because we’re bored.  

I wonder what would happen if we could forget about what we look like, about what clothes we have in our closets, forget how our voices sound.  What if we woke up tomorrow, seeing ourselves and what we have in new eyes? Instead of getting up and looking in the mirror and thinking, well, I look the same as I always do, what if we could rediscover how we look?

I don’t think I mean anything like a spritual, existential, find-myself-journey. I mean literally.  I want to forget about myself and see it fresh.  Would we be bored with ourselves, or expecting that we’ll look the same way every day, or take ourselves for granted?

I do not want to forget my life. Not my life, my friends, my past. Just myself. I wonder what would happen if we just forgot all the things we’re not happy with and all the things we notice because we’ve lived with ourselves for all our lives. Erase all that from our memories.

Maybe we wouldn’t even notice a lot of them the second time around.


So 2009 has started out as the best year of my life.  I have so many great things going on for me. Here’s a genera overview of my life in 2009:


2. I’m really making friends and loving meeting people in the play. I told one of my fellow choir girls, “I’m excited about acting wih my friends and making friends with the people I’m acting with.”

3. [Private]

4.  I don’t know if this is good or not, but I’m kind of adjusting to being an only child?  Yes, I still have those moments where I’m like, “Oh, I can’t wait to tell Deanna this!” or “I need her opinion on what to say to this guy ASAP!” and I can’t, but I’m kinda getting used to it.

5. For instance, she doesn’t know that I’m starting a music project with a guy I met at auditions for the musical. But she does now.  Because she’s read this.  ;]

7. I’ve really noticed an improvement in my singing, and especially my nerves. They’ve definitely curved. I still get nervous, but it’s pretty much my body flipping out; I can calm my mind pretty well.

8. The term is almost over. That means no more Chemistry after next Friday! And I get to start out fresh in AP History.

9. My goldfish still arent dead? I haven’t cleaned their tank since summer, probably, I feed them only once a day if I remember, they’re in my old room so I never see them. I’m the worst fish mama ever and they’re still alive. I bet it’s because they can’t help but love me so much.

10. I’ve recovered. Last year, I really had a “funk” going on. I was angry, constantly self-conscious, I had zero confidence (which was reflected in pretty much every part of my life), I had no friends at school, I freaked out over my grades (all A’s, but if it was an A- or a B, I would pretty much cry), I was depressed, my mom and I fought all the time.  I’m better! Like, 110%!  Like I said at the beginning of this post, this has started off being the best year of my life. I’ve been happy (when people ask how I am, I honestly answer “good”!) and confident, and I make friends all the time.   =]

11. I think I’ve figured out what I want to do with my life.  I really think musical theatre. I LOVE acting. I LOVE singing. So.. why not put them together?  All the other things on my list of possible career interests can be part time jobs, or jobs while I go around auditioning, or hobbies. 

12. Unfortunately, I have to leave for school now. Which means sitting through all my classes until rehearsal (after school). So school takes forever now, because I can’t wait to practice. 

What’s your 2009 been like so far?