August and September have always felt like the hottest summer months in the Bay Area to me. It’s been a rough couple of days lately, what with my betta sorority completely falling apart* and then having to re-home a dog** that I was getting used to having around. It always feels like a personal failure on my part when things just don’t work out, my stubborn nature makes me believe that had I more time/energy/whatever things would have turned out differently.
Then there’s all the wedding planning stuff, and I really wish it was all done. I never wanted to be a Bridezilla. I know my Pinterest feed is full of wedding planning ideas, but that’s the extent of it. I wanted the wedding to stay in a neat little corner of my brain, because I feel like a bad feminist for caring about the various moving parts of it, and not being able to keep it to myself. The last thing I want to do is burden anyone else with it, because it’s just a wedding and I want to roll my eyes about it. Or at least a part of me feels like I should want to roll my eyes and gag at the parts of me that want to be head over heels giddy about this process.
It’s seeping into my schedule and I’m losing sleep and stressing about it. From the proposal to picking out the dress, it hasn’t been fun for me. Honestly, half the time I want to just cancel the whole event as from the get-go, it’s felt like just a bunch of business transactions and while I’m great at planning events and used to work in the wedding industry, classes are going to start soon and I will have to delegate things.
Everyone says this is supposed to be a happy event. How can I be happy about getting married, when I don’t feel worthy of this Sacrament?
*the bettas were upgraded from a 10 gallon tank to a 29 gallon tank, and in the process there was fungal infection that killed 2 girls, 1 girl jumped the tank and my runty favorite croaked.
**the dog bit someone, and in our current housing situation, it's not something that could be tolerated.
It’s July, roughly around the halfway mark for the calendar year. I tried poking about on the Internet, but there’s nothing cute-sy anyone says about July. (Other than maybe Ju-lied to me :P ) So I looked for random facts, and I found this one: in my grandparents’ generation, and likely the one of anyone reading this blog, humanity landed on the Moon. The exact date of the moon landing was July 16, forty-six years ago.
That blew my mind! Our species, despite all its inclinations to destroy itself only because we can mentality, managed to collectively pool resources into a common good to get homo sapiens (as well as canis familiaris, just to name another species. Man’s best friend indeed) into space. Space exploration funding’s been drastically reduced since this monumental achievement, and I suppose maybe a younger version of myself would have wanted to be an astronaut if I would have known it was an option.
Another random fact: This is a kind gesture the White House can give you: some Presidential Greetings. As a kid who’s a first-generation immigrant on one (possibly both, depends on who’s keeping track) this is a really neat way for the White House to engage with its constituents. In this increasingly digital world, it feels nice to receive paper mail and not just bills mixed in with the junk mail.
I decided to order one for my grandparents, to celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary. It’s a milestone that they couldn’t have known they’d get to when they said their “I dos” and one which both my partner and I would need to reach eighty years of age to accomplish ourselves. I can only hope God gives us that many years to live out.
After one hundred days of positivity, the question remains: Am I suddenly a more positive individual? My honest answer is it all depends on what I’m talking about.
The person that I am today had to go through a lot of struggle, and for the most part I’ve come to peace with my past. Everyone has to, otherwise they’re forever weighted down by it. At some point, you pick your battles, lest we exist in a world where every battle is literally one of life or death.
I’ve heard that it takes about two weeks for a habit to form (sorry I can’t link to any study off the top of my head) and it held true here, the first two weeks were the most difficult for me and I kept wanting to give up and focus on everything that had gone wrong. As a law school student, it can feel at times like your brain is basically learning to expect the worst and then accept being pleasantly surprised when things don’t fall apart. Especially because of grading curves, and knowing that you’re surrounded by peers who are equally motivated to pursue this career path.
It didn’t magically become easier overnight, though, but sometime after two weeks it did become easier to focus on the fact that this was a long-term goal, and the only person holding me accountable would be me. Sure, family and friends my like or re-tweet something on social media, but as far as disappointment goes, it would all fall on my shoulders.
The end result is one where I now want to do anther 100 days challenge. Any suggestions? I’m thinking of trying either a doodle a day, or a photo a day. Not sure which, or whether something else will be what I try out next,
What’s it thinking?
It’s June, and even in this California drought, the local flora are thriving. The longer summer days just seem to make the plants so happy. As Sartre once said, “To read a poem in January is as pleasant as to take a walk in June.”
It’s also nearly the completion of a hundred days of positivity challenge I decided to do, well, close to one hundred days ago. The gist of it was to write down one positive thing you’d experienced for one hundred days. Since popular science says it takes about two weeks for something to become a habit, I did notice earlier on in this challenge that I was looking for the silver lining more than I used to before starting it.
It’s not like every day was made better because I knew I had to find one positive thing to attribute to it, but even fairly mediocre or terrible days were balanced out by being able to remind myself that it wasn’t in fact the end of the world. There will always be stumbling blocks in life, and it’s easy to get frustrated by them. I found that it became easier for me to set it aside, and try to focus on what I did have going for me as I invested more time in this challenge.
It also happened that I got engaged during this challenge (at the end of May/June 1st, to be precise) and while that decision had been in the works for a while, it was amazing to see the outpouring of well wishes from both of our friends and family members. Now I’m just hoping I won’t become a bridezilla in the process of getting to the altar.
The cobwebs were also deserted by this point.
My, how the time just flies. Dear anyone reading this, I am so very sorry to want to post more and yet only being able to churn something out on a monthly basis, if that. I did marketing for a living before law school, before I was working at start-ups, you’d think I’d know a thing or two about brand retention and producing brand loyalty.
The ego is such a terrible creature to make one’s point of pride. A long time ago, I made peace with what my first name would be, and left the rest to be a subject for posterity. Anyone who has met me knows me to be a woman of my word, which is a rare trait, just as nowadays it is tough to find a true gentleman who is willing to honor his word. It’d been bothering me for a while, I couldn’t quite put a finger on it, and then I realized – my voice as a Liz shines forth when I write; which differs so strongly from my voice when I write in legalese, or for prose, or for whatever.
As someone who’d earned a degree in Political Science when it was still a science offered at my alma mater, I know I fell into it at SCU after deflecting from the real sciences because I’d been tired of hearing “You’re Not Welcome Here” for years. What did it matter whether it was because I was female, young/old, of an ethnicity coding as Non-White, I’d been told repeatedly things like “You can’t wear lipstick and be a serious scientist” or “You’ll stop wanting this career when you have babies” or “People like you don’t really want to do science work” such that I quit it and decided to go the legal route instead.
Fast forward to last week, where I had the worst interview I’ve ever been on. It was a panel interview with three older men (mid-forties was the youngest) where at some point in the interview process they’d made me uncomfortable because their first line of questioning revolved around the fact that I wasn’t wearing jewelry. I fell apart because I couldn’t point out to them that as a person sitting in the hot chair (do you remember your last interview? How nerve-wracking it was? Only to find out no, you didn’t get the job?) I couldn’t readily point out that they were making me very uncomfortable. There’s not really a good way to break it to someone in an interview that yes, I am hearing your shushed whispers about me not having “a good fit” and then going on about how it was based on how I wasn’t forthcoming on whether I was married or single. As it’d be easier to deal with me if they knew whether I was married and planning on having more children, or single and being a government burden. Ouch.
That was the how the worst interview I ever had, in which I ultimately just walked out on, went. What’s the worst that’s ever happened to you?