I Wish I Could Be Hal Jordan

Spiders, snakes, the dark, the unknown, heights, large bodies of water, airplanes, public speaking, failure, death, dentists, clowns, change, open spaces, small spaces, and needles. All common things people fear in life. Some are justified, some emerge from past experiences, some are just unexplained. I was recently asked what my biggest fear was. I smash spiders; I've cut off the heads of snakes with my grandparents; I enjoy darkness; the unknown intrigues me; I love heights and can't wait to skydive this summer; I love swimming; airplane rides are really fun and get me to my destination with minimum risk; I'm great at public speaking; failure makes me stronger; I think death is horrible for the people left behind, but death itself doesn't scare me; dentists are nice and make my teeth feel slimy and amazing; clowns are funny; change is good, without it I'd go nuts; open spaces are fun for running; small spaces suck, but I'm not afraid of them; and needles aren't fun, but I've gotten used to getting stuck by them because my veins are tiny.

So what is it that scares me? It's that someone will know everything about me--from my outside appearance, to my thoughts, to my opinions, to my judgements, to my preferences, to my personality--and they won't like me for who I am. That scares me. Each person in my life only knows a little about me because I'm always afraid if they knew everything, they'd reject me or become uninterested. Kyle is probably the exception to this fear because he knows everything about me and that's what makes him love me. My flaws and imperfections are perfect to him.

But he's the minority. The one person. I'm a different person to everyone else. My family knows different things about me than my friends, my friends know different things about me than my coworkers, my coworkers know different things about me than my church friends, etc. I don't know why I have to be so many people. It's almost as if I wear all these masks. I'm afraid that one day I'm going to put on the wrong mask when I come into work, or go to a party, or when I'm at home. I ask myself why it would be so horrible for people to know the things they don't, and the answer is that I don't know. My fear may be irrational, but maybe underneath everything I have a fear of rejection. I've had friends in the past where I let them in and all of them left me out of the blue one day. Either by leaving me for other people or just by not talking to me anymore.

I'm a very confident person and I feel like I have a strong self-esteem, but perhaps I don't. If I was truly confident with myself, then I would be able to tell everyone everything about me, right? That scares me, too. Maybe I'm not as self-confident as I thought. I'm afraid of rejection, of not fitting in, of not being the strong woman I think I am.

Family on Father's Day

So, it's Father's Day. It makes me think of everything that I've been given in my life by my parents. Here are just three of the ones I'm most thankful for.

1. A pleasant living environment.

Okay, that sounds really weird, but honestly, I think that's a very important thing when raising a family. Our house is a small house in a clean, friendly neighborhood. All of our neighbors are all old or are young families with small tots and beh-bies. Again, it's small, but that's what makes our family so close...not just physically. We had to learn how to get along because if we went to our rooms and slammed the door, we could hear the conversations on the other side and they could hear us cry. We sit on the couches as a family when we watch our shows and sometimes it felt like we were sitting on each other's laps, but it made us comfortable with each other.

2. A living example of a working, loving relationship.

My parents got married really young, but they have never lost their love for each other. For some, cheating is a question of when it will happen and why. However, for my parents, it has never been a question. They still get each other gifts for birthdays and anniversaries even if it crunches the budget a little bit. I love how they support each other's hobbies. My mom loves to crochet and my dad loves comics books. They do those things without causing distance to grow like rust between them, munching away at their bond. Instead, they have a stronghold. Both of my parents came from houses with failed marriages. Instead of making that their greatest weakness, they twisted it into an act of healthy rebellion. The tides changed and they became the strongest couple I know. If my sister and I ever question our relationships, without a doubt we can just hold them up to our parents like tracing paper to draw straighter and sharper lines.

3. A support mechanism.

The best thing about my family is our support system. I can talk about really deep things with my mom. Whenever we ride in the car together, go shopping together, or work together, I can tell her anything about my life without worrying about feeling judged. She gives the best advice and more often than not, I take it. She's very smart about knowing how other people feel in a situation just from listening to my side of the story. In that way, I gain a stronger knowledge of other people while resolving my issues. My dad is the opposite. Instead of delving into an issue to solve it from its core, he provides a distraction from when the drama and work and future all get too hard to take. We'll talk about video games, movies, television shows, comics, electronics, and music. Anything to make the hurt disappear and I always appreciate it.

Both my parents are very different in both parenting styles and personalities. Somehow, they've found a way to make it work and I couldn't be more thrilled to be in the family I'm in. We laugh together, cry together, take walks in the rain together, take silly pictures together, watch So You Think You Can Dance together (8 seasons and counting, but don't even get us started on Survivior), and wear Green Lantern shirts together. It's not like we're perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but much like Tim Gunn would have us do, we "make it work."

Darkly Dreaming Dexter

I don't know if any of you have every watched "Dexter" but you really should. Get it on Netflix, go rent it at Blockbuster, borrow it, buy it, bootleg it, I don't care. Get ahold of it, take it out of the case, put it in your DVD player and watch it. I caught the last three seasons and I fell in love. Kyle and I are going back and watching them all from the beginning. 

I'm a TV buff. When I'm not working or going to school, doing chores, reading, or surfing the interblags, I'm watching a show. Sitcoms like "The Big Bang Theory" and "Modern Family" are my favorite for a quick bad-mood suppressant. Dramas such as "Parenthood" are good when I want to feel good about my life. Detective shows like "The Mentalist" are good for when you want to think. "American Gothic" is perfect for when you want to have a hard time sleeping at night for fear of blood on the walls and the Devil tricking you into selling your soul. 

"Dexter" is different. It's better than a novel. Nothing makes an audience feel more dirty than rooting for a heartless serial killer. Dexter is a man who blurs the black and white line of morality. I love the idea of anti-heroes. Have you ever seen "Boondock Saints?"Men out to rid Boston of corrupt and evil men. By killing them. You root for them to kill each evil man. Pretty messed up. Anti-heroes can be as simple as Holden Caulfield from Catcher in the Rye. He is the definition of rebellion and teenager angst. In real life, everyone would hate a kid like that, running around drinking and swearing. It's unheard of, but glorified in Salinger's book. Yossarian from Catch-22 could be considered an anti-hero going out of his way to avoid going to war. He pretends to get sick, gets drunk, has sex, anything he can do to get out of fighting. People want heroes to go to war, not a man who just wants to go home. They want to feel safe; yet the whole book the audience is rooting for Yossarian and his fretful attempts to leave the army. Something that would be considered weak in our society. 

Perhaps the best parallel to Dexter would be Hannibal Lecter. A serial killer who eats his victims. His saucy tongue and tender appetite charmed audiences all over the United States. Hannibal blends into society just like Dexter. When he walks the streets, he walks with confidence and poise. Dexter is charming too. A friendly neighbor, a loving boyfriend, a shy brother, and so on. He pretends. Hannibal was caught in "Silence of the Lambs," but he never lost his charms. The whole time, the audience is so excited to see him escape. That's just good writing. 

If you want a show to get your heart pumping and have your morals questioned, watch "Dexter." You'll never be so supportive of a cold-blooded murderer. I should hope. 

How Can We Keep from Singing?

I found another thing to put on my to-do list. Tonight was my sister's last choir concert at her high school because she's graduating in a couple weeks. The theme was centered around one of their songs titled, "How Can We Keep from Singing?" Essays were read from the seniors in choir that emphasized why they chose to sing even when trampled by finals and after-school groups and sports. Each essay brought a new insight on why singing is so important to them. For example: Singing is the only pure thing in an evil world, singing is a way to leave your troubles at the door, it's an escape, it's a drug, it's harmony with your friends, it's fun, it's a message even when the music is in another language...and even when there are no words at all!

Lately, I've been content with just singing in my car, belting out ballads like "Eclipse of the Heart" sung by Bonnie Tyler. My favorite is sining "Can't Take My Eyes Off of You" by Frankie Valli with the windows rolled down and watching the old people start singing when I pull up next to them. Because singing is ageless. It's in the soul. Which is why I thought I would bring it up in my Spiritual Strudel. It's nom nom. Even the most awfulest of singers can't help but belt out their favorite songs when they're alone. It's an urge. An impulse. It's also a cure. Singing karaoke in a bar, singing while fist pumping with your girls at the club, singing in the shower, singing along at concerts, singing the national anthem at a baseball game, singing your audition for American Idol, singing in the opera, in a musical, in the streets...it's all the same.

Singing is global. It breaks open the language barrier. Everyone can understand the emotions of a song even if they can't understand the words. In high school choir, Mrs. Freeman would play us a new song in Latin or Italian or French and have us make skits about it while she played it in the room. She never told us what it was about. Somehow, even when the situations were wrong (mostly because they became outlandish), we always understood the emotion and were always right.

People scoff at singers and judge them worse than Simon Cowell. Good! Criticize! How else will pieces of art be made or new genres created? It takes criticism to grow stronger. However, how could anyone truly hate anything that comes from the heart? I love singing to elderly men and women at the nursing home before Christmas. We gather all around them and sing to them their beloved carols and they offer suggestions. Hunched over wrinkle pots come shuffling from the very darkest corners, smelling of stale urine, to hear the music. Their smiles are what keep us singing and not want to leave. My favorite part is their voices. It's not like old people have smooth, toned voices or anything. They suck, to be quite frank. But I'll tell you, I've never heard a more beautiful sound because every word means something to them. Memories of Christmas pour out of them at the sound and you can see them as young children, glitter and shit coming out of their eyes just as if they've just sat on Santa's lap.

It looks like I'll have to get back into choir. It'll take a while to find one that I'm comfortable with and that I think does a decent job. Freeman has made me a choir snob. Sometimes I can't handle choir members and divas so maybe something like an a capella group would be best for me. Something where we're all on equal ground because my voice is a blender anyway. We'll see where this goes, but one thing's for sure: I cannot keep from singing.

Santa vs. Heidi Montag

Santa Claus isn't real, right? That's what we've been told ever since we found out who really puts the presents under our Christmas trees. He's this made-up character who has one job one day a year--put toys underneath little children's trees in the middle of the night and eat all of their sugar cookies in return. My argument is that Santa is more real than someone like Heidi Montag who has 5% of her real face still attached to her head.

What has Heidi ever done for humanity? She's taught girls to not be satisfied with their bodies, to turn to surgery to be more popular, and that dating a douche who treats you and the rest of the world poorly is an okay way to live. At least Dolly Parton, the old Barbie Doll, has set up her Imagination Library to help early childhood learning. She has openly admitted to hating what she's had done through plastic surgery. No,  what I'm talking about is the glorification of people who are so fake and plastic. It's disgusting.

Santa instills excitement and hope in children's hearts, and keeps their imaginations alive with wonder. He makes them believe in magic, something that Scrooges out there could really take a lot away from. He teaches the art of giving and receiving, of sharing, of family, and of traditions. To me, that's more real than anything that Heidi has ever said or done.

Smell the Roses, Listen to your Cashier

Working retail, you stand by the doors all day behind your register greeting people as they walk through the door and wishing them a good day as they leave. Thrilling, I know. I've learned something ever since September, and that's that people forgot how to listen somewhere along the line. 


In high school, I used to get mocked for being so loud that people could hear me down the hallways...not just down the hallway, though. Upstairs and around the corner. I get shushed at restaurants and movie theaters. My laugh always draws in attention. "Oh, Shelby, your laugh is so infectious." Don't worry, people, I know that means annoying, but I can't help it. So, how is it then that my loud voice stops 3 feet short of me every time I work at my job? 


It feels like one in ever fifteen customers actually respond to me when I say, "Hi, how are you doing today?" I understand that in our culture, that phrase has been abused. It no longer means, "I am genuinely curious on how your day has gone thus far." Instead, it has been boiled down to an systematic, "Hey," in meaning. People walk around the mall, talking to their children with iPod earbuds in their ears. Excuse me? How is that setting a good example of someone who is attentive to what you're saying? How is that being responsive to your child's needs? How is that not rude?


It's not anyone's fault. It's just society and its changing priorities toward technology. Suddenly, answering a text is more important than decent conversation at a dining room table with family. Answering that one phone call is more important than driving. Playing Angry Birds is more important than playing the piano. I'm not saying that technology is evil. I'm saying it's providing a distraction. Our attention span is already, what? Fifteen minutes? Ten? No wonder someone can't even listen long enough to say hello back at a mall. They're too wrapped up in checking out their outfit, their phones, and their boyfriends, and not wrapped up enough in just simply checking out at my register. 


When I tell someone about the survey at the bottom of their receipt, one of the most common responses is: "Do I have to sign there?" No. I just explained what you have to do. If you don't get that 15% off coupon for not doing the survey, it is no longer my problem. Another thing: just read. If you can't listen to words coming out of my mouth then at least read the words I am pointing to. 


What I'm saying is this. Be aware of the present so that years later you don't look at your life and wonder what you were doing. You were on the phone. Think you met that person before? You didn't, you just simply walked on by, your face glued to technology. Just start listening. Eye contact is the most important thing. Oh, and one more thing: Please respond to your cashier when she wishes a good day because maybe then she'll actually mean it. 

Osama's Death

"For through violence you may murder a murderer, but you can’t murder murder. Through violence you may murder a liar, but you can’t establish truth. Through violence you may murder a hater, but you can’t murder hate through violence. Darkness cannot put out darkness; only light can do that" -Martin Luther King Jr. 


I told myself I wasn't going to include current events in my blog, but major country-affecting ones--okay, fine. 


Everyone's heard that Osama Bin Laden was shot and killed, super CIA-gun firing stuff. It's all over the internet and floating around the country. Some have taken to celebrating his death, others, like myself, are thankful a man will never kill again, but you won't hear me cheering for the dead. 


I agree, this is an event that like 9/11 can bring our country a greater sense of patriotic-ness. However, it's difficult to have patriotism when gas prices are estimated to be 6 dollars in the next few years, our soldiers are still fighting overseas, homosexuals are not allowed to be married in most states, teen pregnancy and violence is being glorified, our national debt is growing even more, there's an overwhelming unemployment rate, there are budget cuts all over the US in education, and so I'm sorry but one man's death is not going to make me suddenly love everything about this country. 


My heart goes out the victims' families of 9/11. I understand that a sense of justice has been served. However, to cheer and hoot and holler and to celebrate about a man being killed, I just don't see how that's right, no matter how "evil" the person was. It makes me uncomfortable to say the least.  I guess I'm just a Star Wars girl, but this seems too appropriate to discount: "Fear is the path to the Dark Side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering," -Yoda. We feared Osama so much it led to hate. Hate spreads more hate. It's a disease. Ultimately, the towers fell because of hate. Osama fell because we hated him, too. We can show love toward the families affected by 9/11, but I think showing hate toward Osama is infectious and nothing good can come out of it.