I'm More "Doris Day" Than "Marilyn Monroe"

Doris Day and Marilyn Monroe.
Both women were icons, but for very different reasons.

One was known as the Sweetheart: she was the girl next door type, always smiling, good-natured, but also had a temper and wasn't afraid to fight for what she wanted.
The other was known as the Sex Symbol: she was usually cast as a woman with lower intelligence, always wore skin-tight and figure flattering outfits, and was the woman that all the men wanted.

Even if you've never heard of Doris Day, most people are able to figure out which description goes with which woman. Doris Day was the Sweetheart while Marilyn Monroe was the Sex Symbol. Due to her untimely death and being known as a sex symbol, Marilyn Monroe is known around the world. Doris Day doesn't have the same global recognition because she was seen as more of an ordinary woman. People saw her as cute and sweet, but not as special as Marilyn.
(Keep in mind that these descriptions are based on stereotypes and global conceptions of the women. Personally, I believe that both women were beautiful, intelligent, funny, and extraordinary in their own ways.)

Based on the stereotypes of these women, I believe that I'm more "Doris Day" than "Marilyn Monroe." Physically, I'm built more like Marilyn: hourglass figure, full lips, and cleavage even in a turtleneck. But personality wise, I'm more of a Doris: funny, determined, have a temper, and a contagious laugh.

Doris and I are the type of women that a man would marry and come home to at the end of the day when he expected a home-cooked meal on the table. Marilyn is the woman guys want to have a romance with, and take her out on the town and show her off.
Doris and I are stubborn and can hold a grudge when fighting with our man. Marilyn never has a fight with her guy because he agrees to whatever she says for fear of losing her.
Marilyn is the woman that men are immediately drawn to and they want to take care of, while Doris and I are more of the Girl-Next-Door type where it takes guys years to decide that they want to be with us.
(Don't get me wrong, I like who I am. I'm cool being more girl-next-door than bombshell, I'm simply making comparisons to illustrate my point.)

Recently, two close male friends of mine (who have never met) said the following to me on separate occasions:
Collin: How are you still single? You are fantastic!
Trenton: I don't understand why some man hasn't come for you yet.

At the time, I didn't have a response for either of the men. But when I really started thinking about it, this is what I came up with: I think it confuses guys when they see me and expect Bombshell only to get Sweetheart. They expect a woman who needs protecting and to be shown off yet receive a woman who can manage her own life without the approval of others. They expect glitz and glamour only to be met with simplicity. They expect Sexy and get Cute instead. When they realize that I am not the Bombshell they thought, they are disappointed and don't have much use for me after that. And that's fine. I'd rather them not call back instead of asking for another date hoping that I will change into the Sex Symbol they wanted and us both being disappointed.

I've come to the conclusion that I'm more "Apple Pie" than "Martini." It's just that most guys my age would rather go out drinking than have a home cooked meal. I'm not worried, though. I enjoy being the Apple Pie of life. I have great friends and kids who love and support me, and I know that one day a great guy will come along looking for something more substantial, and he'll find me. So ladies, don't worry if you aren't a Marilyn. There's nothing wrong with being a Doris. Take my word for it.

Ladies, to whom do you relate more? Would you rather be one over the other? Fellas, do you prefer Marilyn to Doris, or do you like sweet more than sexy? As always, I'm excited to hear what you have to say. 

You Can, But I Can't?

Did you know that it is impossible for two people to be tired at the same time?

Oh yeah, it's true.
Nearly every time I mention to someone that I'm tired, they question me about my activities, then state what they have done and why they are tired, and that therefore I should have no reason to be so worn out.

Example: I had worked a 12-hour day, gone to classes, did 4 loads of laundry and lots of dishes, gone to a program for my residence hall, stayed up working on regular homework as well as my Senior Thesis, and gone to the gym. All of this on 3 hours of sleep. 
When a friend asked how I was doing, I simply replied, "I'm good. Tired, but good."
Without missing a beat, he says, "You're tired?! YOU'RE tired?! I've gone to classes, worked on an art project, and still haven't had my afternoon nap. I'M the one who is tired."

Now, I have no right to judge this guy. Maybe he needs more sleep to function well; maybe he was having a bad day and was just crabby; maybe he had no concept of how hard other people work and was unaware that the world does not revolve around him. Who knows. What I do know is that, even though he was tired, I was also exhausted. Just because he experienced fatigue didn't mean that I was exempt from it.

So, maybe I should have used my *Sarcasm Font* at the beginning of this post when I mentioned that it's impossible for two people to be tired at the same time. But that's how a lot of people make it seem: they are tired, so there is no way for you to also be tired.
What the heck kind of ridiculous rule is that?! Lots of people work hard, and they all deserve to rest and relax. Just because someone worked in a different way than you doesn't mean that they worked any less than you, or that they should be less tired than you. The thought that we are in competition to see who is "Truly Tired" because only one of us deserves to be so sleepy is preposterous to me.

I guess I don't have a lot to say for this particular post. This isn't philosophical and doesn't require a lot of deep thinking, I know. But it is something to consider.  You being tired doesn't cancel out another person being tired. Why are you the only one allowed to be worn out? Isn't it possible (and dare I say even probable) that more than one person has worked hard and is in need of rest? Think about that the next time you start to condemn another person for stating how tired he or she is, instead of trying to prove why you are the one who has the right to be tired.

My Cup Runneth Over

It's November, and most people (where I am from, at least) are celebrating Thanksgiving soon. A significant amount of people have been making Facebook statuses about what they are thankful for every day. I didn't participate in that trend because 87% of my friends would ignore it, 10% would read it and grumble about it, and only about 3% would enjoy what I had to say.

While completing an activity with some of my students, though, I realized that I have quite a lot to be thankful for, and I should express this. Some of what I am thankful for is people, and they need to know how grateful I am towards them. So, instead of posting something on Facebook for people to skip over, I am writing about it on here. You all choose to read my posts, so I don't feel as bad. The following are some of the prompts that I used with my class.

What does being thankful mean: It means knowing that your life is better because of something, and appreciating it.

What opportunities are you thankful for: So many. Going to college, participating in band and going on all those fantastic trips, working with the Upward Bound program, just to name a few.

Something about myself I am thankful for: Being tender-hearted.

A person I am grateful for because they inspire me: P!nk and Miranda Lambert (so what I don't know them personally.)

Someone who always makes me smile: My kids. All of them. All 300+ of them.

An adventure I am grateful I had the opportunity to experience: Being a military girlfriend. That was definitely an adventure..

Something I am thankful for about my neighborhood or community: That this is a safe, small-town  community.

Something I am thankful for about school: It made me a little less naive.

Someone I really appreciate because they support and encourage me: My family. They have always told me that I could do anything I set my mind to, and I feel that they mean it. 

Something alive I am thankful for: Flowers. They don't really serve a purpose, but they are good for the soul. The prettiest bouquet of flowers I ever got was a mix of yellow flowers: roses, daisies, sunflowers, and lilies.

Friends I am thankful for: Too many to name, honestly. A list of those I talk to on a daily-ish basis would include Chrissy, Trevor, Ryan, David, James, Steven, Brad, Mark, Joshua, Adam. (I have a lot of male friends, huh.)

Someone younger than me that I am thankful for: My little girl, Emma.

Someone older than me that I am thankful for: My Mama

Something invisible I am thankful for: Laughter

I am thankful I learned how to: Be patient. (After all, I hear it's a virtue. lol)

An activity I am grateful for:  Swimming. Being in the water (ocean, lake, pool, doesn't matter) is my happy place

Someone who teaches me I am thankful for: Ramona Garcia and Mr. Maurice Dean Jasper.

Something I am thankful for that is:
       - Square: My Bachelor's Degree
       - Round: The ring my daughter Faith gave me.
       - Triangle: Awkward Pillow
       - Rectangle: My work badge. It means that I have a job, and I am thankful for that.

Something I am thankful for that uses technology: Medicine. Modern medicine is a fantastic thing. I've had a lot of injuries, and I am always thankful for the doctors and nurses who have all this technology to help. (Lung surgeries, cracked ribs, cracked sternum, bruised tailbone, concussions, broken fingers, broken ankle, asphalt burns, all kinds of stuff!)  

Something I am thankful for that is:
       - Blue: My Mama's ring
       -Orange:My orange dress. I feel pretty every time I wear it.
       - Red: The ladybug I received after surgery. His name is Francis.
       - Green: My Grandma's apron. 
       - Yellow: The sun. The brighter is beams, the happier I am.

An animal I am thankful for: Flutter-bies. (aka Butterflies).

Someone I really appreciate because they spend time with me:Once again, too many to name. My family and my close friends have always been there for me.

Something about my home I am thankful for: It is always filled with love and laughter.

Something I could not live without: Music

Something in nature I am grateful for: The changing of seasons. I love that I live in an area where I get to experience all four seasons (although Winter could be a little shorter and I'd be happy.)

Something you cannot touch you are thankful for: Prayer

Something I am thankful someone did for me: For all those who served, are serving, and will serve in the military to keep me free and safe.

Sounds I am thankful for: All of them. Several important people in my life are part of the Deaf Community, so I'm thankful that I have the ability to hear.

A sight I am grateful for: Children running towards me with outstretched arms and smiles.

"Perhaps Mr. Collins Has a Cousin"

Mr. Collins: Mrs Bennet, I have been bestowed by the good grace of Lady Catherine de Bourgh a parsonage of no mean size. It is my avowed hope that soon I may find a mistress for it. And I have to inform you that the eldest Miss Bennet has captured my special attention.

Mrs. Bennet: Unfortunately, it is incumbent upon me to hint that the
 eldest Miss Bennet is very soon to be engaged. But Miss Lizzie,next 
to her in age and beauty, would make anyone an excellent partner. 
Do not you agree?

Mr. Collins: Indeed. Indeed. A very agreeable alternative.

If you aren't familiar with this excerpt from the Jane Austen novel
 Pride and Prejudice, allow me to clear it up for you. Mr. Collins is 
telling Jane's mother, Mrs. Bennet, that he is interested in marrying Jane.
 Mrs. Bennet tells him that Jane is already on her way to becoming engaged 
to another man; however, Mrs. Bennet tells Mr. Collins that Jane's sister,
 Lizzie, is just a step down in comparison to Jane, and that she would be
 a decent backup. 

Personally, if I was Lizzie, I would be livid with my mother if she persuaded 
a man to go out with me instead of my sister because my sister was already taken.
To me, this says "Mom thinks I can't get a guy on my own, so she is trying to push
Jane's rejects towards me." And the fact that the man so easily changed his mind
about which woman to pursue in his quest for marriage tells me that he is more 
interested in having a wife than he is in the actual woman. Basically, he likes the 
idea of marriage more than he likes the woman he is asking to marry him. 

I've been the "Lizzie" in this situation a few times. Either a friend didn't like the guy 
she went on a date with and tried to set me up with him instead, or family members
 find out that a man is interested in my sister, but since she is taken, they try to redirect
him towards me.  I feel obligated to be nice and at least attempt to go on the date, but I
always feel awkward while on the date, and then I just get frustrated with whoever set up
the date in the first place. My way of thinking is that if he doesn't really want to
 take me out in the first place, then what is the point of going? He won't be
 happy, I won't be happy. Why push it? 

This sense of "not pushing it" also applies to dating in general, not simply the dates that 
other people coerce us to go on.  Anecdotal example: I went on a few dates with a guy
 named Anthony. We had fun, laughed a lot together, enjoyed good conversation, we had
met each others' parents. Things seemed to be going pretty well. We both got busy with 
work and school, and life in general, but still had plans to go out soon. A few days before 
we were supposed to go out, I still hadn't heard from Anthony, so I send him a message 
saying that I'm excited to see him again. No response. No response for days. Now it's the 
day Anthony and I were supposed to go out, but I still don't hear from him. Instead of 
getting all dolled-up and waiting around for him, and then being disappointed when he 
didn't show up, I made my own plans and had fun. Yes, it hurt that he blew me off without
 even a lame excuse, but I was not about to let it ruin my night or my life. Moral of the Story 
here is that is he isn't going to put in the effort to try to keep you, don't put in the effort to try 
to make him. If he doesn't want to be with you, then he is the one with the problem, not you. 
To me, if you gave it a solid shot but things didn't work like you'd thought, No Harm,
 No Foul, No More Dates. Don't misunderstand, I'm willing to put in the
time and effort that maintaining a relationship requires; however, I will not be the only 
one putting in that effort. As long as we are both interesting in keeping the relationship
going, then I will be more than happy to do my part. But if you can't be bothered with it,
then I am not going to waste my time trying to make things work for you. 

I'm a grown woman. I am not going to chase after you. I will not pine when you move on 
without even the courtesy of telling me. I will not beg you to stay with me, or to give me 
one more chance. At this point, I assume that anyone I go on a date with is capable of
 adult-thinking and knows that their actions have consequences. If you don't want to
 keep seeing me, be a man and tell me. I will think better of you if you tell me upfront
 rather than if you just leave me hanging. 

"If he isn't calling you, it's because you aren't on his mind. "Busy" in another word for Jerk." 
I don't know who is quoted as saying this, but they have a point. And I don't have time for 
jerks in my life. 

In a Game of "Truth or Dare" I Always Picked Truth

I have never been described as brave.
Sure, I've been described as timid, backwards, awkward, and nervous. But never brave. And I kind of hate that. I wish I had the courage to do things boldly.

Now, I wouldn't necessarily say that I'm a coward. I'm just cautious. I don't take unnecessary risks when there is clearly a safer route. For example, a few years ago when we all went on vacation, my sister went bungee jumping. Instead of going with her, I waited on the ground and just watched.That's just how I've always done things. But every once in a while, things need shaken up.

Here is where I need your help.
I'm leaving it up to my readers. I'm hoping to get at least 10 comments about something I should do that would show me as being brave. Of course, they can't be ridiculous stunts where someone could get hurt, but suggestions on activities for me to improve my bravery. Once I get a decent amount of suggestions, I'll start working on completing those tasks and will keep you updated. But this way, I know that I'm accountable for reporting back to you about my challenges, so I am more likely to be brave than I would if it was just me.

Okay, so maybe this is the Psych major coming out in me doing a social experiment, but I'm kind of excited to see what you come up with.

Happy Girls are the Prettiest

My last few posts have been intense, so I wanted to lighten things up a bit.

Last weekend I took out my little girl, Emma, for a Girl's Day. We went to the park, drove around downtown blasting music, had a picnic in the park and fed the ducks. It was a fantastic day. Now (for those of you who are knew to my posts) when I call her "My Little Girl" I don't mean that she is my daughter; I love her like she's mine, but she is in no way related to me. That being said, I always have a great time when Emma and I go out. Normally I'm so wrapped up in that feeling of happiness that only being with a child can give you, that I don't notice much else. This past weekend, however, something caught my attention.

I was hit on more when I was out with Emma because guys thought I was her single mother than I have in any other situation. Let me run that one by you again: I had more guys flirting with me when they thought I was a 24 year old single-mother than when they think I'm just a single 24 year old female.

I was completely baffled by this observation. I simply couldn't understand it. I thought that most guys would avoid flirting with a woman my age knowing that she had a child for fear of being tied down, or having to take on lots of responsibility at such a young age themselves. When I asked one of my guy friends what he thought about this phenomenon, he made a valid point.

Trevor: Have you ever seen yourself when you're with kids? You light up! You're beautiful normally, but when you're with your kids, you are absolutely gorgeous. You have a 1,000 Watt smile and you beam with love. When you are with your kids, you are truly happy.

He's right. Being with my kids is my Happy Place: that time where nothing is wrong, there is lots of laughter, and you are completely content with yourself.  As juvenile as it sounds, I think that everyone needs a happy thought. They can be a way of escaping a terrible situation, they get help you out of your mental-funk, and just put you in a better mood in general. A lot of people use them:

In "Peter Pan", it is revealed that the only thing Wendy, Michael, and John need to do in order to fly is to "think of wonderful thought. Any happy little thought." (Of course, there is a small matter of Pixie dust, but that isn't something the children can control.) The Happy Thought is what enables flight.

When actor Adam Sandler takes on the role of "Happy Gilmore" for the self-titled movie, he also finds himself using a Happy Thought to get himself in a better frame of mind and overcome obstacles. When Happy tries to beat Shooter McGavin in a golfing tournament he turns to his "Happy Thought" to get the job done, and it works.

In the movie "A Little Princess" Sara is young girl in a school for girls. Sarah is orphaned and made a servant in the school so that she may work off some of her debt. At one point, the Head-Mistress threatens to call the police and have Sara thrown out on the streets with no form of shelter or food. To help herself make it through the night without having a nervous breakdown, Sara pretends that the tiny, dirty old attic is covered with expensive clothes (instead of the rags she is wearing), silver platters covered with food (instead of admitting she hasn't eaten in days) and that she has a soft, warm bed to sleep comfortable on (instead of laying on the floor where the boards are soaked through.) But because she imagined all this as her Happy Thought, Sara was able to make it through the night and into a better day.

Whatever your Happy Thought is, keep it with you when you are having a bad day. Go to your Happy Place when it seems like the world couldn't be any worse, and find the light that your thought brings about. when you are truly happy, you will look it. You will feel more confident, outgoing, and more beautiful. Audrey Hepburn is quoted as saying, "I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls." And I think she has a point.

It's freezing and our hair is a mess. But we don't care because we're happy when we're together.

Fight Like a Girl

I believe in rooting for the underdog. 
I believe in being prepared.
I believe in taking care of yourself.

I believe that no man should ever hit a woman. But I also believe that every woman should know how to protect herself in case she is ever attacked.

Most of the human population consists of good people. Men and women that are good-natured and wouldn't hurt another person intentionally. However, there is that 1% of people (both men and women) who are, in my opinion, the scum of the Earth and don't care who they hurt in any situation. Whether it is physically, emotionally, socially, psychologically, they are A-Okay with hurting people. Most of the public have their own style for dealing with emotional and psychological tactics. A significant number, though, are unprepared should they find themselves in a physical battle.

I've been hit. I won't go into details, but I can tell you that it is all kinds of no-fun. It's the most infuriating, humiliating, terrifying, shocking and helpless feeling that I've ever experienced all at the same time. I don't want to ever feel that way again; I don't want anyone else to have to feel that way. But a good portion of women are unprepared to defend themselves in the event that they are assaulted.

I've always been able to hold my own, and was stronger than majority of the girls I knew. However, this didn't dissuade me from taking a Self-Defense class on campus my freshmen year of college. A few officers from the police department volunteered to teach women basic self-defense maneuvers to ward off any potential attackers. I LOVED this. I got to spend three hours a night for a week learning different techniques, practicing punches and kicks, and feeling empowered because I knew that I could defend myself. Not only did I greatly enjoy this class, but I excelled at it. I was so good that I was offered the chance to help teach some of the female cadets those same techniques.

A few years later, I enrolled in a Women's Self-Defense course, and received college credit for it. Instead of just showing us basic moves, the teachers demonstrated and explained types of Aikido moves. They showed us how to use natural movements to get out of our Attacker's grip, how to escape a choke-hold, and how to wriggle out of a bear-hug-type-hold by using smart strategies instead of trying to overpower the assailant (which is not likely to happen, anyway). These men taught us how to react in a smart way instead of panicking and endangering ourselves even more.

 There are classes offered through most, if not all, colleges and cities. Most martial arts studios offer some self-defense classes. Gyms provide women's groups so that females may learn basic fighting techniques without feeling self-conscious. There are so many options to learn how to defend yourself. I don't condone fighting just for giggles, but I strongly suggest knowing how to fight in order to protect yourself.

I'm sure that I'll catch all kinds of grief over this post telling me that I should have written to males advising them to not be violent to women instead of telling women that they should know how to defend themselves. Personally, I believe that both are true: men should never hit a woman, and women should know to protect themselves. The male-lesson needs to be taught at home when he is still young and forming his ideas about how to act. It does no good for a boy to grow up thinking violence against women is acceptable, and then for me to try to tell them not to do it. It doesn't work that way. On the other hand, however, no matter when we tell females that they need to be able to take care of themselves, it seems to sink in. I know this because there are women of all ages signing up for self-defense class, getting their Concealed Carry gun permit, and learning how to curl her hands into a fist for the first time.

When the days comes, though, I will teach my son how to properly treat a lady, and I will teach my little girl how to throw a right-cross.

Strumming My Pain With His Fingers

This post is about suicide...

"Suicide does not end the chances of life getting worse. It eliminates the possibility of it ever getting better."

 Majority of the people who read my posts are young adults. This means that these wonderful people are in high school, or working their way through college usually, but they are all experiencing difficult times. The stressors of school and work, figuring out who you are and how that fits in with the rest of the world, having the courage to stand up for yourself when the rest of society says that you are wrong; all of these place a burden on the shoulders of young adults, especially.

Whether it is from being thrown into different roles than what they are used to and therefore are unsure of how to act, or whether they feel like they don't have the proper support at home (or wherever), or if they feel like the world is telling them what they can/cannot do and that they don't get to make their own decisions, this stage of non-understanding leads to thoughts of desperation, hopelessness, and "the world would be a better place if I weren't in it."

That's right. A lot of people have thoughts about suicide.

(I'm about to get real honest with you, real fast. What you're about to read is something that I've never told anyone. Not my parents, my siblings, my best friend. No one.)

When I was in high school I thought about suicide. A lot. I believed I was the scum of the earth and that the world would be better off if I was no longer a part of it. I felt abandoned and knew that no one would miss me if I was gone. I hated struggling to get through the day; I had this continuous feeling of worthlessness and anxiety that placed a lump in my throat the size of a baseball. I saw my life spiraling out of my control; twisting and turning like a roller-coaster without a track to guide it. Days, weeks, months went by and I forced a smile, hid my tears, and put on a facade so that people around wouldn't ask me "What's wrong?" There wasn't a day that I didn't think about ways to kill myself.

Eventually I got out of the toxic environment that had me believing I was a terrible excuse for a person. I realized that I was smart enough to find my way through the "Maze of Life" instead of getting stuck in one of the dead-ends. But even after escaping this torturous location, I still had this self-loathing state of mind. After being told everyday that I was unlovable, it was hard to escape that way of thinking. At this point, I wasn't thinking about suicide on a daily basis like I was before, but it still entered my mind from time to time.(Let me make one thing clear: while I thought a lot about committing suicide, I never made an attempt.)

After some personal reflection, I figured out what had me feeling so depressed and dejected. I got in a better frame of mind and was able to pull myself away from suicidal ideas for good. I had to work at making myself believe that I was worth something (worth anything) and that I could take control of my life. Some days it was tougher than others, but it was definitely worth it. Now, I have great friends, a fantastic job that enables me to work with wonderful students and love them as my own children, and I am in control of my life. I no longer let the negative attitudes of other people bring me down. I know that I am doing the best I can with my life, and I have people who love me. I'm happy with that. I have a blessed life, and that's enough for me.

I tell you all of this only to let you know that there is hope. You are not the only one struggling, and it will get better. I know that life seems dismal, like an up-hill battle that you can't win, and that you are doomed to feel this way forever. It's tough, but you can get past feeling hopelessly crushed by life. But this can only happen if you give it a chance to. If you end your life, you aren't giving yourself the chance to show the world just how fantastic you are. Whether it is simply changing locations, getting rid of negative people in your life, seeing a counselor on a regular basis and starting an anti-depressant, or sheer determination to kick this feeling, it is possible to beat thoughts of suicide and depression.

If you or someone you know is having suicidal thoughts, tell an adult: a parent, teacher, counselor, someone that you trust. Feeling suicidal is not an elaborate scheme for getting attention, please don't take it as such. If someone tells you that they are thinking about suicide you should take that very seriously, and assist them in getting the proper help. If you don't know where else to turn, you can always call 1-800-273-TALK (8255). 

Laughter is the Best Medicine

Laughter is the best medicine.
Okay, it is a cliche, but there is a reason for that: It's true.

It's no secret that I've felt down in the dumps for the last few weeks. Between working one of my jobs that I believe to be a secret level of Hell that even Dante was afraid to write about, and feeling alienated because my friends live two-hours away, I have definitely had a major case of the blues. This past weekend, however, I experienced the only stimulant that I will ever need to get me out of this slump: Laughter.


I laughed because a friend admitted that she didn't understand a joke used for six weeks about another friend's height.

I laughed because I was the oldest in our group, yet I was the one wearing a shirt with Rex from Toy Story with the words "I'm a Nervous Rex" on the front.

I laughed when my best female friend tried playing the new Grand Theft Auto game and had trouble car-jacking a TARC bus.

I laughed when we got stuck talking with British accents.

I laughed so hard that I cried when I complimented a stranger on his hat while still in British-mode, and he complimented me back using a British accent and calling me his Love.

I laughed when my kids asked if I was married yet. And since I wasn't, did I at least have a boyfriend, now?

I laughed when a cluster of kids yelled "Group Hug the Momma!" and I was immediately attacked with love.

I laughed when watching Happy Gilmore, and the guys would quote the lines before the characters said them.

I laughed when the boys acted 7 years old and chased each other around our cars, even though they are 26 years old.


If you couldn't tell, I had a really great time last weekend. I don't know if I could have managed being in a funk any longer; I needed the love and laughter that came with the weekend. My cheeks hurt from where I had been smiling and laughing so much. That is a good sign, for sure.

So, does laughing instantly elevate your mood? What kinds of things never fail to make you laugh? Do you feel completely rejuvenated after a good long laugh? Have you ever heard someone laugh and had to laugh yourself, even though you didn't know what was funny? I look forward to hearing your anecdotes and laughing-so-hard-you-cried stories. Spread the laughter.

It Doesn't Matter

These are my kids.

It doesn't matter that she is an inch taller than I am.
It doesn't matter that he is only 5 years younger than me.
He is a size 0, and she is a size 22. I fluctuate anywhere between an 8 and 12.  But that doesn't matter. 


It doesn't matter that he is on the Autism Spectrum and doesn't understand a few social cues.
It doesn't matter that I am in no way biologically related to her.
He would rather play video games when I'd rather be swimming. But it doesn't matter. 


It doesn't matter that I am a blonde, and she has brunette hair. (Or red, or blue, or green, or purple, or whatever color she decides to dye her hair.)
It doesn't matter that he is gay and I'm straight.
It doesn't matter that she just upgraded her phone to the iPhone 7 and that I still use my basic TracFone.
He prefers Winter whereas I am a Summer baby. But that doesn't matter.


It doesn't matter that she has scars on her wrists from cutting and that the only thing on my wrist is a hairband and the word LOVE.
It doesn't matter that she is bold as brass and will start a fight for the fun of it, even though I hate confrontation.
I love comedies, but he enjoys  horror  movies. But that doesn't matter.


If you're keeping score, you'll realize that none of the above things matter. That's right, in the grand scheme of life, none of these things truly matter. The only thing that matters is that I love these kids. I love them as if they were mine. I would do anything in my power to keep them safe, happy, and healthy.

I help them with homework after school. I sing them lullabies when I tuck them into bed. I give them a hug and a juicebox when they have had their hearts broken. I teach Him how to flirt, but I show Her how to throw a right-cross.They come to me with questions and problems because they know I will help them without judgment. 
So, the next time you point out that they are not biologically mine, don't act surprised when I will point out that you aren't smart enough to understand this kind of love.The kind of love where kids don't have to be blood-related to warrant being loved and cared for. The kind of love that makes you want to legitimately adopt 130 adolescents while you are only 23 years old.

Whether it's the 8 year old who calls me Katelyn, the 14 year olds who address me as Miss Vinson, or the 15-21 year olds who call me Momma, I have kids. Lots of them. And anything you say to the contrary simply doesn't matter.

Apparently I'm an Alpha-Female

Those of you who know me or have just kept up with my posts know that I support strong women. Whether it's Wonder Woman, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Debbie the serial killer from "The Addams Family" movie, or the mom from the song "Harper Valley PTA" by Jeannie C. Riley, I completely respect women who are able to support themselves, stand up for themselves as well as others, and show a strong sense of character no matter the situation.
I like to fancy myself as a strong woman. I know that I have flaws and don't always do the right thing, but I would like to think that I can take care of myself (and others) in any given circumstance. However, even having this vision of myself as a strong female, I never thought of myself as an Alpha Female...

One day during my senior year of college, I was walking from a class back to my residence hall when I hear someone call my name. Now, I went to a medium-sized university, where I knew about 80% of the student population, so it wasn't unusual for someone to yell at me from across campus. I hear my name again, but this time it is closer. I look around and see a few people that I recognize, but none that are yelling for me. I turn around and continue walking, thinking that this mysterious person was yelling for a different Katelyn, when this young man walks up to me and says, "Hi, Katelyn."

Earlier I mentioned that I knew about 80% of the students on campus. This guy was one of the few that I didn't know. I had never seen him before, I didn't know his name, I couldn't even place him as being a friend of a friend of an acquaintance. But he definitely knew who I was. Shocked that he knew me and I had no idea who he was, I stopped in my tracks and listened to what he had to say.

Guy: How was your Senior Seminar class?
Katelyn: It was fine...How did you know I was just in Senior Seminar?
Guy: I know all about you. I actually just called you over to let you know that I am writing a paper over you for my Freshman Psychology class. I figured that since I'm writing about you, the decent thing to do would be to let you know I'm writing about you.
Katelyn: Umm...what?
Guy: Yeah, I'm writing about how you are an Alpha Female. I see you all over campus, and how people just respond to you. You always have a positive attitude, but you don't take crap from anyone. You really are a take-charge kind of woman, so I'm writing my paper over you.
Katelyn: I'm not sure....I don't....How do you know....Huh...?
Guy: Okay, bye!

And with that, he left. With a smile on his face, he bounced away, never once looking back. And I just stood there stunned for a moment. It took me a while to process what this guy had said: a guy that I had never met knew about me, my schedule, and my personality, and he was going to write a paper about me for a class. Thinking it was a joke, I looked around to see if friends were hiding behind trees laughing because of the amazing prank they pulled on me. I was hoping that they were just trying to give  Ashton Kutcher and the creators of  Punk'd a run for their money. Unfortunately, there was no one around.

Flipping out a little, I go tell my roommate about what just happened. She agrees that it was a strange encounter, but says that I probably know the guy and don't remember. I nod in agreement hoping that it will put my mind at ease, all the while knowing that I have never met this guy.

A few weeks pass and I don't hear from him. I get so wrapped up in finishing my Thesis and other classwork that I honestly forget about the entire thing. One day, however, this young man is standing in front of me as I walk onto my front porch. (Let me tell you, I felt like this guy was part of a real-life pop-up book and I was kind of terrified.) Once again shocked, I stood there listening to what he had to say; granted, I was thinking of all my escape routes and doing a mental inventory of all the weapons I had with me in case things got bad, but for all he could tell I was just standing there listening to him.

Guy: Hey Katelyn. I just wanted to let you know that I finished my paper about you.
Katelyn: Okay...
Guy: I got an A on it, in case you were wondering. My professor said that you were an interesting case; definitely an Alpha Female. He had to ask me if I embellished on the details of a few of the anecdotal stories of yours that I included because they are so outrageous. But he was more impressed when I told him that no embellishments were needed. That was all you.
Katelyn: ...what stories..?
Guy: Oh it doesn't matter now. But I need to be headed towards my next class. See you around.
Katelyn: ...wait! How do I know you?!
Guy: You don't. Bye!

And once again, this mysterious man was gone. I haven't seen him around campus since.

I'm not sure if he wanted to become one of my outrageous stories, or if he seriously thought I was that interesting, or what was going on with him. But I would absolutely love to read what Guy wrote about me. Also, I'd like to know which stories he used and how he even found out about them; if he thought I was such an interesting case, why didn't he talk to me himself, instead of creepily watching me from around campus?
I can't decide if I'm more flattered that he thought I was an Alpha Female and wanted to write about me, or more creeped out because of the way he chose to go about it. Either way, I feel like this just adds to my arsenal of "Only Katelyn" stories. Who else has someone pop-up out of nowhere to inform them that the other person is writing a character analysis (basically) over them for a college-level Psych class? If there is anyone out there with the same issue, I would love to hear about it.
As always, I can't wait to hear what you have to say!

I'm Kind of a Tech-Not

As many of my readers have mentioned, it has been a while since I have posted anything new. I want to apologize for that, but at the same time let you know that it isn't that I wasn't writing because I was bored with writing. I wasn't able to write or post because my computer died. Completely. I couldn't run any programs, it wouldn't connect to the internet, and the screen blacked out. Basically, my computer usage was severely limited. Since my computer went kaput, I have been doing a little research trying to figure out the best computer to replace it. Believe it or not, I don't use the computer for many things. I talk to friends on Facebook, check my emails, listen to music, and write my blog. That's about it. I don't play computer video games (League of Legends, World of Warcraft, anything like that), I don't randomly search the internet to see what I can find, I don't use fancy programs that require a lot of storage. I just need the basics.

So here is the start of my rant....

Why is it so difficult to get the basics when it comes to technology? I have no need for a super-computer. I wouldn't have the first idea about how to use it; however, despite explaining this to sales associates, and even tech-savvy friends, they all still try to convince me that I need to upgrade from what I was using previously. I say "Nay-Nay!" If what I had performed every job that I needed it to, why would I want to pay extra money for all the bells and whistles that I will never use? That makes absolutely no sense to me.
"But Katelyn, it has all these cool features, and you can download apps, and watch movies and stuff."
I literally couldn't care less about all those things. I think technology is over-used anyway, (I prefer in-person contact), so why would I buy a device that sucks me deeper into the Technological World and pulls me away from real-life contact...? This goes for everything from computers, to cell phones, m-pods or i-p3s, tablets, and all the other types of technology that I don't know about.

I didn't get a cell phone until I moved into college. But even then, I started off with a pre-pay service using TracFone. My phone will make calls, and send/receive text messages. That's all I need it to do. It's been five years, and I'm still using TracFone. Friends ask why I don't upgrade to a "real cell phone carrier" because they are so much better. Once again, I don't understand why I should get a phone with more on it to distract me and pay $80 a month or more when I can pay the same $80 and buy minutes that will last me an entire year. I don't want to be able to surf the web on my phone, I don't need games on my phone. I have a busy life, so those things would just get in my way. My dinky little phone has done everything I need it to, and works when other people's smart phones have shut down on them.

I realize that I have probably wasted my breath on this rant, living in the Age of Technology and all, but I really don't see the point of upgrading just to upgrade. Don't get me wrong, technology is helpful and has its place, but it shouldn't consume your entire life. I believe we should unplug and get outside to play with our kids; sit down and write a hand-written to a friend instead of sending a chain-email; use social media to coordinate when you are meeting with friends, but don't make it the only place that you "see" them.

So, does anyone else feel the same way about technology, or am I the only person left who hasn't been sucked into the world of Candy Crush, Twitter, and SnapChat? Do you automatically upgrade your phone every six months because a newer version of your phone was just released? Is there a room in your house dedicated to all things electronic? Am I stuck in the Stone Ages, or do you think I have a point? I can't wait to hear what you have to say.

26 Books in 1 Summer

I'm not a big reader. Books usually put me to sleep. Literally. I fall asleep every time I pick up a book. That made it really difficult to get through college, especially my Senior Theory class. (*cough* Paul *cough*). There were several times when I would start on my reading assignment, and the next thing I knew, my roommate was waking me up, my face plastered to the textbook. Reading just isn't something I enjoy. Given the option between music and reading, I would take the music every time.

However, every once in a while a book will catch my interest and actually keep me awake. Janet Evanovich is an author that does just that. Author of the "One For the Money" (the Stephanie Plum series) and "Wicked Appetite" (the Lizzie and Diesel series), Janet is a terrific writer. She writes characters with depth to them, who get into crazy situations, and have a remarkable wit about them.

Stephanie Plum is a female bounty hunter who finds herself in all kinds of mind-boggling situations: burning down funeral homes, chasing alligators down alleyways, body-slamming criminals, having her car fire-bombed. She is in on-again/off-again relationships with a cop named Morelli (the boy next door who grew up to be the good guy next door), and an ex-military man named Ranger (who is a mostly good guy with bad-guy tendencies). He partner in crime is an ex-hooker who is street smart, but doesn't always have the best control over her attitude. With the combination of characters, there is no limit to the kinds of trouble that Stephanie Plum finds herself in.

The Lizzie and Diesel series is a little more...supernatural. Lizzie is a cupcake maker going about her normal routine when a dangerously handsome man named Diesel waltzes into her life and messes everything up. He tells Lizzie that she has paranormal abilities of locating magically enhanced objects, and that she must help him locate stones that represent the 7 deadly sins. Living in Salem, Massachusetts only adds to the spooky factor of the storyline, but once again, Janet Evanovich creates characters that you would be hard-pressed to forget with circumstances that make you bust out laughing.



As a not-so-avid-reader, I know that it seems silly for me to be recommending books to you; however, when a book can make me literally laugh out loud, and feel invested in the characters' lives, I believe it is a book worth a recommendation. Let me put it this way: I don't enjoy reading, but I read 26 books in one summer that were all written by Janet Evanovich. That alone should tell you how interesting they are. So go out, pick up a book, and laugh until your side hurts.  You can thank me later.



Still not convinced? Here are a few quotes from Janet's books:

"I didn't want to burst his bubble, but the only time Ranger wouldn't look out of place would be standing in a lineup between Rambo and Batman."

"Don't let Grandma play with my gun!"

"There was no good way to tell my mother I was being stalked by a homicidal drag queen."

"I'm a Catholic by birth, but in my own personal religion, the Trinity will forever be the Father, the Son, and the Holy Jelly Donut."

"I can walk 3 miles in 4-inch heels and I can shop Morelli in the ground, but I don't do running."

"Calories don't count if they're connected to a celebration. Everyone knows that."

"Sometimes it's good to have an ex-hooker as a crime-fighting partner."

I Love You, But Don't Touch Me...

I get along with most everyone. I'm friends with people who call themselves Goths, as well as Preppy kids, and everyone in between. And I care for all of them. However, I show my affection in more of a verbal way: I compliment them, tell them how wonderful they are, how great they look, how amazing their laugh is, stuff like that. I'm not a hugger.

To be honest, hugging is weird for me.
I was never big on giving out hugs in the first place, but when I got a little older hugs made me really uncomfortable. When guys would hug me, more often than not, they would try get handsy, and I was not okay with that. And when hugging another female, our chests were at the same level, so there was lots of (for lack of a better word) smooshing going on, and once again, I was not comfortable with that. So I just started avoiding hugs.

 
Like my Papa, when a hug is needed, I usually give one-armed, to-the-side hugs. This way the other person still gets their physical affection, but I don't have to compromise my personal space bubble. Even with my closest family, I don't give big bear hugs.


Now, I've gotten better about giving hugs; I've learned how to hug without relinquishing my comfort. I still use the one-armed hug when someone needs a hug but I'm still hesitant to step out of my bubble. I give two-armed, but not tight hugs to friends. Two-armed, tight hugs are reserved for my family, best friends and kids. There are even a few people who pick me up and spin me around when hugging because I'm so comfortable with them (but those people are truly unique and have known me for a LONG time. So, for your own safety, don't try that.)


So maybe I'm a little weird when it comes to hugging and showing physical affection. But there is something that just bothers me about giving hugs. After having a fun night out with a very close friend of mine, he leaned in to give me a hug and I literally said, "I love you, but don't touch me..." In short, if you have ever gotten a really good hug from me, you should consider yourself lucky. I don't give those out to just anybody.


Does anyone else find hugging odd? Are you comfortable hugging certain people over others? Would you rather tell someone how much you care for them and how wonderful they are rather than give a hug? What do you think about my reasons for why hugging is weird for me: has anyone else noticed that? As always, I'm curious to see what you have to say!

I Don't Have Time for "Perfect"

I'm one of those people that tries her absolute best on everything she does. I push past realistic boundaries until I've done all I can physically do to complete a task; that being said, I am nowhere near perfect. I have a temper, my hair is usually a mess, I forgive too quickly but have trouble trusting people, I wear my emotions on my sleeves, I pull my hair out when I get nervous, I drive too fast, and I can't find shirts that fit right. Like I said, I'm not even close to being perfect, but I try to do the best with what I have.

Maybe all of the aforementioned faults are what make me so annoyed when I see someone who is "Perfect." (Yes, I know that no one is *actually* perfect, but there are those people who would have you think otherwise...) Their hair is always in place, their makeup is flawless, their teeth are straight and bleached white, their clothes are always neat, their manicure is on point, their life is completely organized and everything seems to be going right for them.
I CAN'T STAND THAT!

There are two reasons that people like this get under my skin.
1. Their life really is as good as it seems. They haven't had to endure the hardships that most other people have gone through, and they don't know what it's like to have a hard time. Everything has been handed to them on a silver platter and they haven't had to experience the "downs" that come with life.
If that's the case, then we have absolutely nothing in common. You will not understand the struggles that I've gone through to make me the person I am, when you were born as a shining star.

OR

2. Their life is just as hard as the rest of ours, but they aren't comfortable enough with themselves to show who they really are. They spend hours preparing themselves, and putting on this facade so that other people will think better of them. Now, don't get me wrong: there is nothing wrong with dressing up and having your life together; however, if you spend more time making it look like your life is together than you do actually living your life, then what's the point? You are more invested in what others think instead of how you feel about you. You feel like you aren't good enough to show what you consider your "dark side" (your stubbornness, singing off key, going without makeup, whatever it may be) because it isn't the absolute best.

I may not be perfect, but I'm always me. I'm real. I'm sweet, I'm stubborn, I dance while driving my car, I laugh too loud, I sound like a pterodactyl when I hiccup, I get my feelings hurt and my life is an Awkward Turtle. But you can always count on me being me. Are you always you?


"Today you are you, That is truer than true. There is no one alive Who is youer than you."
~Dr. Seuss

"But I Am Le Tired"

Is anyone else completely exhausted?
Seriously.


I've heard it said that "if you're an adult, and you aren't tired all the time, then you aren't doing it right." But the amount of tired that I'm experiencing is absolutely ridiculous. And surely I can't be the only person who feels this way; between my friends who are married and have kids, those who are working on their Doctorate, those struggling to graduate from college, and everyone else going through their own issues, there HAS to be a ton of people that are totally wiped out.



I'm proud to say that I work hard. Every day. Even if I'm not at work, I work hard. I know that working the way I do is cause for me to be tired at the end of the day. But to be perpetually tired..? To wake up just as worn out as when you laid down? To go through your day like a zombie because, no matter how many cups of coffee you drink, you just can't seem to wake up? That seems like over-doing it to me.



Granted, I would rather wear out than to rust out; however, that does not mean that I want to be the first one to wear out. Every now and again I would like a day to just sleep in as late as possible. I just want to stay in comfy pants all day and not feel guilty about it. One day to not leave my house, not put any makeup on to impress other people. All I ask for is one day with no responsibilities so I can have fun in my own way: whether that is watching classic Disney movies all day, going on a road-trip with a friend, playing in the park with my kids, or simply laying in the grass making shapes out of the moving clouds, I just want a day here and there to be me, and catch up on rest.



I wish I could write more about this, but I can't. I'm literally so tired that I can't form the words. So, before my sleep-deprived causes me to write in incoherent babbles, does anybody else feel this way? Are you as tired as I am?

You Make Me Feel Like a Poor-Man's Mary

I'm not stupid; I know that I'm not the perfect woman. Jaws don't drop when I walk into a room. I'm not the girl that "all guys want to date, and all girls want to be best friends with." I have no illusions to the contrary.
However, I don't deserve to be treated as a backup plan.



Don't make plans to hang out with me and then back out because you got a better offer.


Don't sweet-talk me and tell me that I'm beautiful one day, and the next day completely ignore me because someone prettier caught your eye.

 
Don't tell me that you miss me and wish you could hold me, all the while messaging dozens of girls the same thing.


When hanging out with me, if you see people you know, don't be ashamed of me. Actually introduce me to your friends instead of leaving me in the background awkwardly while you talk.



Whatever you do, just don't make me feel like I'm the alternative; I don't want to be your "Poor-Man's Mary." Don't tell me that you want something better, but will settle for me because I'm the cheaper version (metaphorically speaking, of course). This is a terrible for feeling for anyone to experience. I don't have a lot to say for this post: I guess my heart hurts just enough that I want to get my point across without really gushing about it. I just know that when you make me feel like the backup plan, I feel like I've done something wrong: I blame myself for not being good enough, I get angry, I'm ashamed, and I'm disheartened. No one should feel like they aren't good enough to be a priority. Nobody.

My Inner Beatnik

Sherman Alexie once said that "Poetry = Anger x Imagination."
 To me, this means that you have to have an emotional reaction to something to create, or even understand, poetry. Whether it's anger, love, depression, despondence, or confidence doesn't matter. To be able to create poetry, you NEED to have a strong emotional reaction. If the writer has that strong reaction, the reader will have a strong emotional connection. (The reader may not have the same reaction that the writer had, but that's part of the beauty of poetry: it's open to personal interpretation. "It's not about what it is, it's about what it can become." ~Dr. Seuss, The Lorax)


Two of my favorite poets are Edgar Allen Poe and Dr. Seuss. (Yes, I know this is an odd combination, but they always make me feel something.)
My friends and UB kids make fun of me because I can quote the first four pages of "Horton Hatches the Egg," complete with character voices; I enjoy it that much.  Maybe you just see his writings as children's books, but they can be so much more than that.
In sixth grade we had to read poems. I had read a few of Edgar Allen Poe's work, but that was the first time that I'd ever heard "Annabel Lee." I instantly fell in love. This heart-breaking story of young lovers being torn apart by tragic death tears me apart. I made up a simple melody to fit the words of this poem, and I sing it anytime I'm feeling down.

ANNABEL LEE
By Edgar Allen Poe

It was many and many a year ago,
 In a kingdom by the sea.
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
of the name of ANNABEL LEE.
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
than to love and be loved by me

I was a child and she was a child
 in this kingdom by the sea.
But we loved with a love that was more than a love,
 I and my ANNABEL LEE.
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
 coveted her and me. 

And this was the reason that, long ago,
 in the kingdom by the sea,
a wind blew out of cloud chilling
my beautiful ANNABEL LEE.
So that her highborn kinsman came
and bore her away from me
 to shut her up in a sepulcher
in this kingdom by the sea. 

The angels not half so happy in heaven,
went envying her and me.

 Yes, that was the reason, as all men know,
 in this kingdom by the sea,
that the wind came out of the cloud by night,
 chilling and killing my ANNABEL LEE. 

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
 of those who were older than we.
Of many far wiser than we.
And neither the angels in heaven above,
 nor the demons down under the sea,
can ever dissever my soul from the soul
 of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE. 

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
 of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.
 And so, all the night-tide,
 I lie down by the side,
 of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride.
 In the sepulcher there by the sea,
 in her tomb by the sounding sea. 


You don't have to like every bit of poetry that you read. You don't have to like any of it. But I think you should at least experience it. Really let yourself experience it and see if it stirs any emotions inside of you. Read simple poetry. Read poetry that requires the use of a dictionary to understand. Listen to spoken poetry ("If I Should Have a Daughter" by Sarah Kay, or anything by Shane Koyczan (fair warning: he cusses in some of his work, so don't listen if you would be offended by this.))  Get excited, get angry. Laugh, cry. Do something. 

Who's in Charge Around Here?!

In this crazy messed up world that we live in, we all have to make decisions. Be them good, bad or indifferent, we all make choices. But how do we make up our minds about which choice to make? Some people are analytical and use their mind to reason things out; others go with their gut and what emotions tell them.

MIND ONLY
Those who rely solely on their minds are usually methodical in everything they do: they plan and organize, they have trouble being spontaneous, and they force themselves to be rational about all situations. They play a game of chess in their minds to figure out how one situation will impact the rest of their lives.These are the people that take ten years to buy a couch because they want to be absolutely positive that they are making the right choice. Dr. Gregory House, of the show "House" could be described as a "mind-only" decision maker. He makes decisions based on how rational the options are, and openly mocks those who believe or act illogically.

HEART ONLY
Those who listen to only what their heart tells them are impulsive: they make snap decisions (which can be good or bad, depending on the mood they're in), are more adventurous, and tend to jump into situations without knowing what kind of consequences their actions could lead to. These are the people that think up a scheme and act on it immediately. In the movie "Single White Female" Allie acts based on her emotions at the time. Doing so, she becomes roommates with a psychopath who tries to kill her. Granted, no one really thinks something like this will happen to them, but if Allie had taken some time to calm down, she would have gotten back together with her boyfriend and not needed a roommate (crazy or not) in the first place.

COMBINATION
There are several philosophers who could argue for each of the above methods, but I prefer using a combination. I would rather use both my heart and my head in the decision-making process instead of going to either extreme. If I use only my heart and emotions, then I would make snap-decisions and have a lot of regrets. On the other hand, if I my mind to reason out every action, then I would be consumed with "If I did this, what would happen..." thoughts and would lose relationships with the people I love. Combining these methods allows a person to take into consideration the consequences of the his or her actions, while also factoring in the human-element of how that makes you feel.

Scenario 1: While shopping, I find a dress that flatters me and makes me feel pretty, but notice that it is out of my budget.
Mind Only: I don't need new clothes. I already own clothes. That fulfills the social requirement, therefore there is no need to purchase any additional items of clothing.
Heart Only: This dress is so pretty! I want it! I'll get it. (*When it's the end of the month and I can't buy food because I spent my grocery money on this dress then I will just wallow in my emotions and regret.)
Combination: I really like this dress, but I can't afford it right now. I'll wait for it to go on clearance, and then buy it.

Scenario 2: A man with a moral compass that points to a different direction than mine asks me out on a date.
Mind Only: The choices this man has made are irrational; they are based on fallacies. He will not be a benefit to my life in any way, so I will not accept his invitation.
Heart Only: Wow, he's handsome! I definitely want to date him! (Later when we argue about any given topic, I will fly off the handle and let all of my negative and angry emotions out.)
Combination: I acknowledge that we have our differences, but agree to go on the date. I notice the oddities that would make it hard to build a relationship, so I break things off, even though I still think he is really cute.


I could go on with different examples of what would happen if you used just your mind, just your heart, or a combination of these two to make decisions, but I think you get my point. Maybe it just works out better for me this way. Maybe you are perfectly content with going on just-emotions, or just-reason. But I can't see myself being happy or comfortable with a decision I made based on Mind only, or by Heart only. I think you have to take a little bit from both sides. What do you think? How do you make decisions? Do you change the way you make decisions based on which method gives you the outcome you want? As always, I look forward to hearing what you have to say.