Luck to be a Lady

Luck to be a Lady

I open my eyes and I’m greeted with a stabbing pain. My head is throbbing, and I feel like someone is sitting on my belly button. I think my pelvis was shattered. They said I lost a lot of blood, but they’re doing what they can to make me comfortable: heating pads, chocolate, soft pillows. I’m an emotional wreck. Everything seems to be triggering some form of anger, sadness, and confused complication in my body. They tell me that this too shall pass…

Unfortunately, being a woman is not a phase, and I’ve struggled with it my entire life; the monthly gift (as described in the example above), weight gain, societal pressure, family pressure, unworthy pressure that I’ve put on myself, all of it. Today is International Women’s Day, and I can’t think of a better day to talk about what it’s like being one.

When you’re a girl, you see images of Cinderella, Belle, Jasmine, and Ariel, and you think to yourself, I want to be them, I want their life. I want to look like them, have their problems, and their happy endings. I remember being really little and standing on my bed, looking at the moon and dreaming of a life like Cinderella’s (the ending of course). I even dug around in my mother’s beauty drawer for a thick, black hair tie, just like the one Cinderella had, so that I could pull my hair back, just like she did in the movie.

As I grew, I wore dresses, painted my nails, applied makeup; I had a field day trying to look like a lady. But, still, when I looked in the mirror, all I saw was a girl with pale skin, nasty zits, glasses, and frizzy hair who was gaining weight by the minute. Boys NEVER looked at me…especially when I was going through my ugly phase…which was from 2nd grade to about my sophomore year of high school. I noticed all the girls in classes around me finding guys in middle school, and I was looked at as an ugly freak. I thought, how can I change?

As time went on, like any other woman, I saw images of Hollywood celebrities, their hair, makeup, weight, and tried to imitate them. I bought their clothes, went and got my hair done, researched how to tone my muscles while sitting at my desk, and the best brands of makeup for my skin. Still, I never looked like those women in Hollywood. Hell, there are celebrity women in their 50s that look better and are healthier than I will ever be!

And, not only did I feel pressure in regards to my looks, but sex. As a woman, you’re expected to be this sweet and innocent girl in public, but once you lock your bedroom door, men want you to turn into this wild animal! I remember the first few times I had sex, I didn’t know what to do with my hands, what to say, anything. I thought that I was supposed to sit back and let him take control of my body. It’s his for the taking; right?

Looks, the bedroom, and even the work force seem to control society’s perception of women. I remember when I entered my first job and realized that I wasn’t making as much as the man (who was doing the same work and at the same level of experience) sitting next to me because I had a vagina. Really? But, I suppose women are an awful investment. If they’re not engaged to be married when they start working for your company, they probably will be in no time. So, if they get married and their husband wants to move away because of a promotion, poof, they’re gone. Then, if he wants to have children, of course, someone might have to stay home. But, how can he stay home? He just got that promotion? He’s top dog! And, companies hate maternity leave. You might as well ask to go part-time, or just save the company some time and never come back. Why invest in a woman, they’ll just leave! Ugh…

But, when you think about it, I don’t know if I’d want to be a man either. Society tells them that they can’t cry or show emotion when they feel it. They can’t be the runt of any sports team, otherwise they’ll get picked on. They have to be tall, have six pack abs, and watch ESPN. They have to make others feel like they’ve earned the penis God’s given them. And, if they want a female partner, they better make sure they’re able to provide. They’re the one who’s going to have to work long hours, make connections, and do everything in their power to make sure that at the end of the day he still has gas left in the tank to have sex with his wife. And, what about that wife? Is she pretty? Does she do meaningful work? How many women did he have sex with before he married her? How much action does he receive on a regular basis now that he’s married? It’s all important. It all counts toward their “manhood points.”

I don’t know if I’d want that specific pressure that comes with being a man. I couldn’t tell you what’s worse. But, what I can tell you, is that pressure to be anything other than who you truly are is awful. If you’re a woman, but like being a “tom boy,” who gives a shit? If you’re a man, but enjoy The Notebook, I’m not going to judge you. Shouldn’t the message we spread to one another be, “Be Happy, Be Healthy, Be You,” Instead of, “be a man,” or “act like a lady”…?

Granny Smith – over and out

Losing My Religion

prayer

I grew up with very Catholic grandparents and not so Catholic parents. When I was in elementary school, in an effort to make my grandparents happy, my parents sent me to Sunday school. There are only two memories I have of Sunday school. The first is that there was a lot of coloring, and you were given a piece of candy if you got a question about Jesus right. The second was the singing. At the end of every session, each grade would gather into the main hallway, and an old woman would sit in the middle with her guitar and make us sing songs about Jesus.

I didn’t understand anything that was happening, and I often asked my teachers for proof of the history of Jesus (artifacts, anything), so my parents promptly removed me from classes.

As I got older, my family and I started going to church less and less, and pretty soon, all I knew about being a Catholic was that Jesus rose from the dead on Easter and that his birthday is what we call, “Christmas.” As we were pulling away from God, I questioned everything spiritual more and more, year after year. Eventually, when I was nearing the end of high school and beginning college, I decided that I didn’t believe in the afterlife, heaven, hell, God, anything. I had no proof, therefore, it was not real.

I didn’t think about anything regarding religion until I watched an episode of “Long Island Medium” with Theresa Caputo. I had watched other mediums perform before like John Edward, Sylvia Browne, and James Van Praagh, but they were always positioned in front of a large audience, and everything about it seemed so staged. Theresa, on the other hand, was stopping people in grocery stores, doing private readings, going on cruises and reading groups, and walking in to someone’s home and reading a group of 10 people. She did it all. Every situation she was put in, she came out with a victory. How could you not believe her? But, I still wondered, was it a sham? Were these cameras set up? So, when she came out with her book, There’s More to Life Than This, I bought and read it. Then, my life changed forever.

I started believing again when I watched Theresa on TV, but her book really won me over. She talked about experiences that people have in their everyday lives that are signs from spirit, instances that you can’t write or verbally explain to anyone else. It was as though someone had gotten into my head and described everything I’ve never been able to tell anyone else in perfectly strung sentences. I finally felt normal.

In fact, so normal that I recently began working at a Christian college. Everyone that I work with is obviously religious, and they have been their whole lives…Unfortunately, this is where I fall short. I know hardly anything about being a Christian, and I can safely say that I’m not one. At least, not the type of Christian I’ve come in contact with. Yes, I like everyone that I work with. But, I also believe in gay marriage, the fact that homosexuality is not a sin, that swearing is a part of human nature, and being edgy is what makes you real. I love Lady Gaga! Of course, all of these things are generally not celebrated in Christian faith, and that is why I can’t be a true follower.

Theresa Caputo has stated multiple times that all too often individuals use religion to pull themselves apart from others or as an excuse to “hate” someone. When, really, we should be using religion to spread love, kindness, and compassion. They use God as a symbol of fear, instead of a symbol of understanding. Like the GOP, once Christians can wake up and modernize, then maybe I’ll jump on their bandwagon to Bethlehem. I’m not trying to say that all Christians are bad people, most of them are the most compassionate individuals I’ve ever met, but, it’s time to embrace the new world and remind ourselves that Jesus was friends with a prostitute. So, seriously, is being gay really that awful?

Granny Smith – over and out

We Are Getting Back Together

We Are Getting Back Together

I heard a quote once that said, “Getting back together with your ex is like taking a shower, getting out, and putting on yesterday’s dirty underwear.” Mind you, the first time I heard this, I had recently gotten back together with my ex, and I wasn’t sure we would survive the second round. My whole life, I had heard stories of individuals getting together, falling apart, and then coming back to one another and thought, how stupid. You obviously must have left this buffoon for a good reason. Why are you rehashing old wounds? Find someone who you actually want to stick with! But, like many other times in my life, my opinion came back to bite me in the ass, and I found myself involved in a situation that I had been judging others for. I loved my ex, and we didn’t break up because one person was physically or emotionally abusive. We broke up because we both needed to find out who we were without the other person around.  I spent a lot of time as a single lady figuring out what I was capable of and what I wanted. I had a lot more time on my hands and reconnected with old friends and past hobbies. I loved it, but I also hated it. I realized that life was more exciting and challenging (in a good way) with my ex. And, I realized that I was completely selfish. I didn’t want anyone else to be able to enjoy him. I wanted him back for myself. He was/is such a giving, caring, and funny person. I wanted those moments back. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with just anyone. I wanted him. That’s when I realized that being stubborn and sticking with your old ideas isn’t always the best policy. Of course, like with anything, it depends on the situation and circumstances. However, what we had was good. I just needed to fight harder to keep it going. There have been many instances in my life where I’ve started something (ice skating, learning a foreign language, etc.) and quit half-way through because I realized the amount of time I was putting into it wasn’t worth the investment. However, he is worth the investment. And, bringing him back was one of the hardest things I’ve ever worked fir. It took me 18 months to get him to realize that we could do this. We could be together and make it work. And, that time invested was certainly well spent. So, next time you’re offered a second chance…think about it first, of course…but, more importantly, think about all of the positive things that could happen if you said “yes!” Granny Smith – over and out

The Perfect Company Does Exist

perfection

Because I’ve worked for three different companies within the last year, I’ve really started thinking about what my likes and dislikes are in the workplace. I tend to ask myself, what would I do if I could have things my way? What would I do if I ran my own company or was in charge of a large department? I definitely have a few “must haves” and “must not haves.” Below are my top five. What are yours?

  1. Seriously, come in when you want: Some people prefer to start work early in the morning so they can get it done and over with. Other people function better later in the morning and would rather work into the evening (like myself). Saying that everyone has to show up at the exact same time is ludicrous. If I had it my way, I would offer a window. You can come in anytime between 7am-10am. I wish I could say that people could start work at 2pm, but, sometimes a little thing called “meetings” have to happen, or, you really need to get a hold of someone because there’s a crisis. What if there’s an emergency and they don’t come in until 2 and it’s 8am? What are you going to do? They could still be sleeping for all you know.
  2. Along with that, leave when you need to: Granted, I wouldn’t appreciate it if someone only decided to work three hours a day every day, but don’t feel that you have to stay the full eight hours if you’ve finished everything that you can possibly finish for the day in seven and a half. And, if you need to take time for a doctor’s appointment, fine, c ya! Don’t worry about “making up the two hours you’ve missed” unless you are up against a deadline and feel you have to. The bottom line is, if you’ve finished your work to the best of your ability, it’s done correctly, and you can turn it in on time with full confidence, go home!The second part of this deals with vacation and sick time. I don’t feel right telling someone that they are only allowed to have 10 days off per year. What happens if you take a big trip across the country in March and use up seven of your 10 vacation days and then a close relative passes away in May? You might need more time to cope. But, you only have three vacation days left. You better hurry up and dry those tears?!…I don’t think so. Same goes for sick days. Is it my place to tell someone that they can only be sick for 3 days out of the year? How awful. When it comes to this policy, you would obviously have to state how important it is not to abuse it. But, giving generously can have great rewards.
  3. No office gossip…ever: You’re here to work. One of my biggest pet peeves in the workplace is when coworkers openly talk about how much the dislike one of their other coworkers. You graduated high school years ago, stop acting like you’re still there. It’s petty, it’s annoying, and I’m starting to wonder what you say about me when I’m not around. Let’s get the job done so that we can go be with our friends and family…and THEN bitch.
  4. Sure, wear jeans. Just don’t look like you’re going to a rugby match: One of the last places I worked at had a very relaxed dress code. I would see plenty of women come to work in flip flops, leggings, and a sweatshirt. No, I don’t think that wearing jeans and a sweatshirt is offensive, go ahead! I don’t mind flip flops in the summer either. But, for the love of God, leggings are NOT pants! This isn’t your home; you’re still in an office. Same goes for tank tops or anything that shows cleavage. Guys, don’t wear your pants below your butt so that everyone can see your boxers. You don’t have to dress up for me, just cover yourself…and leave the tights and form fitting clothes at home.
  5. Be yourself: Sure, it’s hard to say exactly what you feel or be the truest form of yourself at the office. After all, there’s a little thing called “Human Resources” that can crack the whip if you get out of line. As long as you’re not sexually harassing anyone, seriously offending someone, or physically hurting them, calm down! Choose people to work for your organization who are most like you. You’re a lot more likely to have fun that way. Don’t be afraid to laugh, crack jokes, be sarcastic, etc. I think a lot of what holds people back is fear. They’re afraid to talk to their boss because they don’t want to offend, and they’re afraid to bring their idea up in a group discussion because they don’t want to look dumb. The list of fears could go on and on. I want to take the relaxed approach. I know what it’s like to be the “office idiot,” and I know what it’s like to have no one in the office understand your humor. So, hire those that do.

Granny Smith – over and out

I’m Poor

poor

“I’m poor” is a phrase that I’ve been hearing a lot lately from friends, especially when I’m trying to plan a nice evening for us outside of our apartments. Every time I hear that phrase, I cringe and hold my tongue. For many individuals my age, it can seem like we have no money. Student loans, renting our first apartment, car insurance, renters insurance, pets, cell phone bills; it all escalates quickly. But, are we really “poor?”

Different images can pop into our minds when we think of the word “poor” or “rich.” When I think of “poor,” I think about a homeless person sitting on the side of the street, or a single parent who only works a few hours a week and is about to lose his or her house…and possibly their child(ren). When I think of poor, I don’t think of people in their early-mid twenties. Sure, we don’t have a lot, and we haven’t even started thinking about saving for retirement, but most of us have an amazing support system, like friends or family, or other financial resources (financial counselors) that can help push us in the right direction.

When I think of poor, I think of individuals whose family members left them to fend for themselves, put them into foster care, went to jail, died without saving a single penny to give to their children (who are already homeless with nothing), the list goes on. When I think of rich, sure I think about individuals that have mansions in California, nice cars, wear Gucci, etc. However, I also think of people who have enough money to pay for their own car, provide food for themselves (and possibly another family member), have a pet or multiple, go out to eat with friends, but most importantly, I think about myself. When I thought I had nothing, whenever I’ve felt like the world is falling apart around me, I have my family, friends, significant other, and my dog. I have a plan B; I have a backup system. This helps me know that even if I don’t have much in the end, everything will work out.

I used to be the type of person who took on everything, who thought she could figure it out on her own, who was afraid to ask for help, and who was used to having other adults “taking care of” it for her when it was physically apparent that she was struggling. Now, I’ve learned to say “no.” I’ve learned to ask for help directly and from multiple resources. I ask for help because I am rich. I am rich because I have a strong support system. I have a strong support system because I’m attracted to people who know what it means to care. I am not poor. I am the opposite of poor.

Granny Smith – over and out

New Years With Nerds

nerds

If there’s anything I’ve noticed over the years it’s that true nerds are a different species. I suppose you could classify my boyfriend as a nerd, however, he has the social skills that most stereotypical nerds lack. I, of course, use the term ‘nerd’ endearingly. I adore many of the people who run in my boyfriend’s nerd gang. They’re beautiful souls, but we just don’t mesh.

I’m always reminded of this when I hang out with a lot of his friends at once. To give you an example of what it feels like when I’m with his group, imagine that you’re a middle class, white human living in New York, New York. All of as sudden, you’ve been transported to the heart of Mexico, and now you’re the minority. Sure, some people speak English, but pretend you’re in a city where their knowledge of English is bare minimum. See what I mean? I feel like I’m stuck with people who don’t speak my language, and no matter how hard I try, I will never be able to speak theirs. Sure, we know a few words, and we may have some similar values, but, the core of who we are is so different that we’ll never be able to figure each other out…unless one person becomes fluent in the other’s language.

For me, I’ve always struggled in the learning department. I’m not smart, and I will never claim to be knowledgeable in anything important. (Now, pop culture, that’s a different story). So, image me sitting at a table trying to insert myself into a conversation my man’s friends are having about nuclear energy and biomechanics. I’m lost. All I can do is say, “uh huh,” or “interesting.” Sometimes, I ask questions to try and better understand what they’re talking about, but half the time I can’t even remember what they were saying. I feel like I need a dictionary for every other word that comes out of their mouth.

Even when they’re drunk, they’re smarter than I am. They can play variations of chess and still win. (I’ve never played chess or checkers in my life. I tried to learn a few times as a kid and failed…miserably). What’s even worse is when they bring out the “fun” card games. Like ‘Smart Ass,’ for example. This game is all about reading clues from a card and trying to guess the person, place, or thing before everyone else does. And, you guessed it. When we played, I came in last. My brain just doesn’t operate on their level. It’s hard explaining the fact that I have a learning disability to a group of highly intelligent people who’ve never had an issue with comprehending information in their life, let alone people who have literally been made fun of for being able to comprehend said information so quickly and thoroughly.

I love that every soul on this Earth is different and unique, and I embrace other people’s cool. I was the weird kid growing up (and I still am), so I know what it’s like to not feel like you fit in or think that everyone around you doesn’t get you. I know what it’s like to have interests in things that other people don’t. I look forward to all of the different comments and perspectives that I receive from writing this blog (that’s one of the main reasons why I continue posting). So, ladies and gentlemen, my message is clear. Do you, and don’t forget to let your freak flag fly.

Granny Smith – over and out

Can We Change The Subject?

Can We Change The Subject?

Recently, I went over to my boyfriend’s parent’s house for dinner. I don’t normally spend time with them, but every now and again I’m subject to a visit and an awkward conversation. During the dinner, they asked me a simple question, “how’s work?” My heart froze. I didn’t want to answer. I would’ve given almost anything to talk about something else. Wouldn’t you rather ask me about my trip to the gynecologist? Can we talk about the last time your son and I engaged in sexual intercourse? Anything was better than talking about my job.

And, that’s when it hit me. Even though I’ve known it all along, when you’re an adult and enter the workforce, you’re immediately defined by your job. What do you do? That’s the first question we ask a stranger when we’re at a social gathering, right? If you’re a doctor, you must love helping people and have a high level of intelligence. If you’re a bartender, you must be an alcoholic or have breast implants.

For my job, I’m a board operator for a radio station. I barely work 15 hours a week, and I do the same thing just about every day. Nine times out of ten, I get paid to read a book and make sure nothing goes wrong. This position is really destined for someone in high school or college. Someone who wants to learn the ropes, get their experience, and get out. I lost my job almost a full year ago, and this plus an internship and a few volunteer opportunities has been all I can find. And, I know what you’re thinking. Why has it taken her a whole year? Why doesn’t she take the first thing she can find? Oh, so she’s living at home. Why is she mooching off her parents? Doesn’t she feel terrible? What could she possibly be doing all day? Why doesn’t she try harder?

I know some of you are asking these questions because these are the questions my own friends and family members have asked. Every time I see them, they ask me how the job hunt is going. And every time, I try to give them short, yet informed, answers. I don’t want them to keep asking me questions. Because, no matter how sympathetic their tone of voice is, their eyes tell me a different story. And please, it’s embarrassing enough that I was making $48,000 a year, full-time, full benefits, right out of school, and now I’m barely part-time, making $8 an hour, no benefits, nothing.

I know that this is not an uncommon situation. With the crazy economy the last couple of years, many people lost their jobs, took a job they didn’t like just to pay rent, got a pay cut, etc. But, the last thing we all want is to have the people that we love most in our life think of us unfavorably. There have been times when I’ve asked myself, do my boyfriend’s parents think little of me? Do they think I’m using their son? Do they think I’m good enough for their son? Do my aunts and uncles think I’m a spoiled brat? Are they embarrassed for me?

So, this holiday season, let’s cut everyone some slack. At the gatherings you have with your family and friends, how about we ask the question, “what’s new in your life” or “how are you?” instead of, “how’s the job/job search/the unemployed life?”

Granny Smith – over and out