For Laughs

“Don’t Even Get Me Started”

This phrase – don’t even get me started – is a very well known and well-used member of my vocabulary. Call it the veteran if you will.

Now the reason behind this is pretty self-explanatory.  You see when you first meet me it’s pretty easy to mistake me for a shy person. I’m an introvert, and as such, I hate meeting new people. My biggest thought when it comes to meeting new people is usually, “But wait. I already know people. My people capacity has been reached.” Unfortunately, the universe has consistently seen fit to ignore my people capacity.

So if you’re persistent enough to actually get to know me, you’ll come to understand a few things.

  1. I’m really not shy. Like…at all.
  2. I actually have quite a bit to say about life in general.
  3. And as a general rule, it’s best not to ask me what any of those things are because I will tell you. And it will be rather emphatic.

So here’s how it normally goes: some kind of topic will somehow come up in the natural flow of a conversation. And I will immediately say, “Don’t even get me started.” Now the fact that I have developed this self-regulating mechanism is actually a source of pride for me. Truly.

However.

It hasn’t gotten to the point where it continues to be self-regulating. Let me explain: after I say this phrase it is totally up to whoever I am talking to to decide whether or not I actually get started.

Those closest to me generally respond in one of two ways:

  1. They think it’s hilarious when I “get started” so they sit there very patiently in silence, waiting for the topic to begin bubbling under my skin so as to drive me crazy until I explode. And therefore “get started” anyway.
  2. They change the subject as quickly as they can, saving themselves from the very passionate rant that will surely follow if they don’t act immediately.

I’m telling you all of this because today I’ve got the blogging itch. I’ve got this itch to blog and it’s been driving me nuts ALL DAY LONG. I’ve had at least 47 topics all vying for attention in my head today. If I were a better writer, I’d think of some very clever way to connect all of these topics into a glorious blog post that would existential your mind to pieces.

But that’s not going to happen because I’ve gotten started and this is where it ends people.

  1. I have a friend who pushes herself too hard. Plain and simple, she pushes herself too hard. She holds herself to an impossibly high standard because in her head if she isn’t working so hard that she nearly dies then she isn’t doing her best. If she isn’t working so hard that she can’t see straight then she’s a failure. If she doesn’t spend at least 10 hours studying for the test that we both have to take this week then she’s not doing all she can do. And as much as I love her, and I do with all my heart, I can’t tell her enough times how absolutely absurd this is. Nobody can live life on 150% all the time. Nobody can and nobody should. We have to give ourselves some grace and decide what is and is not worth our time. And not be so hard on ourselves.
  2. Do you ever have those days when you are just drowning in memories? Every now and again this happens to me, and it usually isn’t the same memories or the same times. Some days I feel like I’m reliving my religious mission all over again. Other times it is memories from my time at my previous university. And no matter how hard I try I just can’t escape them. I spend the entire day in a memory field. Honestly, it doesn’t happen that often. But I’m not the only one this happens to, right?
  3. The Prince in Snow White. OH. MY. GOODNESS. There are very, very, very few things on this earth that I have such passionate negative feelings about. But this character is one of them. And I’ll tell you why: he is the most WORTHLESS character that was EVER created in the HISTORY OF THE WORLD. He shows up for five minutes, sings a song, leaves, and then at the end, he shows up and is all, “Oh, I sorta remember her. She looks dead. Maybe I’ll kiss her and see what happens.” Then he gets the girl – because he did absolutely nothing except smooch her – like he is the hero of the day. He is worthless and stupid and stupid. He got way better than he deserved. He is worthless and stupid. The dwarves were totally the heroes of that story. The prince is worthless and stupid.

So I know that I said there were about 47 topics in my head, and that – though a slight exaggeration – was quite true. Has been true, in fact, all day. But now that I’ve written this out, I think those were the most important.

As far as all the other ones go, though, don’t even get me started.

For Laughs · I'm Just Saying

Imma Be Honest

Imma be honest with all of you:

Sometimes I get so ridiculously tired of blogging.

But I have this thing where I’ve been writing this blog for almost…four (?) years now and thinking of blog posts is just a part of who I am now.

However.

bad decisionsI don’t really know what’s going on inside my head, or what the cause is, but for whatever reason the last couple of days I have just been so, so, so mad. Just mad.

Have you ever woken up absolutely furious?

I still can’t decide if I would recommend the experience or not, but I’ll get back to you assuming that at some point in the near future I don’t wake up furious. One of the objects of this anger has been my blog.

I guess that for some reason I always thought it meant something, but I’m not sure it does. I guess I always wanted to write these posts that rattle everything inside of me while also putting it all into place, and somehow everything in my life causing the rattling would just fix itself. It would be like the universe saying, “Yo. I read your blog. And all those things you’re working towards and waiting for? Here they are. Stay golden.”

Actually, that’s never happened. Maybe the universe isn’t following this blog.

I’m fairly certain that I’m trying to be funny in this post. And that the fact that I’ve been absolutely furious for three days straight is also quite funny. Not sure. Nothing really feels funny right now, but the part of me that usually finds most things funny is assuring me that it’ll all be funny soon.

When I feel this way, I just constantly have to remind myself to remain focused on what I know. Just remain focused on the answers I received, do my best to avoid falling into sadness (which is so easy when life feels uncertain), and just continue doing good things and doing what I know makes me content.level of hell

I will say with complete confidence that I’ve been doing this remarkably well in recent months. I’m actually proud of myself for all I’ve been able to do.

But the last three days I’m just mad.

I think it’s an experience I only recommend if it doesn’t last too long. Sometimes you just have to drive through town wearing your sunglasses and mean face. With the bass turned way up and your rap music blaring. Actually, I’d recommend that experience on any day, but on days like this, it is an entirely new level of satisfying.

Stay golden.

 

For Laughs

An Open Letter To One Direction

Dear One Direction,

carI did not fully appreciate you until you were gone. I wish there was a way for me to explain how this happened. I wish there was justification for my actions. But there isn’t. Just like Zayn, I threw away an incredible opportunity to be a part of something spectacular. I’m trying not to be haunted by this fact. This letter, while a deep window into my soul, must be written. I can’t contain this anymore.

I’m going through the phases of loving you in ridiculous amounts, being angry at Zayn, loving you more without him, and being sad that you’re gone all at once. And oh, so much later than the rest of the world. It’s actually quite beautiful in all of it’s tragic too late-ness.

I’m watching X Factor things years too late. I’m watching interviews years too late. Enjoying music years too late. I’m falling in love with Harry so much later than everybody else. (Which doesn’t diminish the love itself, Harry, I’m just saying.) But it’s just all too late. Much too late. If I tried to count each instance I’m sure it would feel like infinity.history

It has taught me a valuable lesson. It’s taught me that for some things, it’s never too late. But it has also taught me that when something good is right in front of you, you have to grab it and never let go. It’s taught me that sometimes it can be too late. And that you can’t pass by the wonderful things that life hands you. Maybe we all say it too much, but we should never give up. If you know something, go for it.

Perhaps if I had jumped on the One Direction bandwagon years ago with the rest of the world, I wouldn’t enjoy everything you all did as much as I do now. Perhaps it would’ve have the same influence as it does now. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as special.

In any case, I need to thank each one of you individually for your contributions to my life in the last few months. You’ve all contributed to a rather interesting time in my life in your own unique way.

suitsLiam: You’re such a drama queen. I love watching you in music videos, because you just pour so much of your soul into it. Thanks for teaching me that about life.

Niall: You’re just…perfect. And so cute. And so loveable. Just so Irish. You make the world a better place with your happiness.

Louis: You have a special place in my heart, Louis. You have such kind eyes. You really are so pure. Like a cinnamon roll. You make me believe in the purity of the human race.

Harry: We’ve got to stop meeting like this. It’s more than I can handle most days. That’s really all I can say for now.

Also, I would like to issue a blanket thank you to all of you for the following songs, which light of my life, comfort my heart, and speak all the words I wish I could speak:

  • Still the One
  • End of the Day
  • You and I
  • Infinity
  • Rock Me
  • Steal My Girl
  • A.M
  • Kiss You
  • Little Things
  • Better than Words
  • If I Could Fly
  • No Control
  • Perfect

Oh, these are only a few. Truly. But these are some of the special ones. The ones that have little thingshelped me through some hard times, which I honestly can’t be held responsible for. Just thank you. Thank you for making me happy, for helping me know that there really are words for how I’m feeling, and teaching me lots of life lessons. Lots of little things.

Probably the most important life lessons you’ve taught me are that life is meant to be lived, that we need to follow our passions, and that love is much too precious to let slip away.

Many thanks.

Love, Jordan

For Laughs

Karma

I once read about the poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning. I remember reading that she wrote amazing poetry, poetry about what was going on in the world and the great issues of the day. Apparently she made quite the influence on the world with her work, which was incredible for a woman in Victorian era England.

I also read that after marrying fellow poet Robert Browning, her poetry “declined”. I remember reading that it was disappointing, how love addled her  writing and that after she fell in love she couldn’t write about anything else.

I have two things to say about this memory of mine:

  1. At the time I went right along with whoever was writing that and judging her harshly, wondering how she could’ve let that happen to her.
  2. Karma is real. Very real.

And that is all.

Have a nice day.

For Laughs

I Prefer Steadfast

For about as long as I can remember, people have found it necessary to tell me that I’m a stubborn person. Well actually, for longer than I can remember, I’m fairly certain.

Now to continue on with this honesty thing, most of the time this comes from my mom when I call her in hard situations. Somewhere along the line it usually comes up that I’m a pretty stubborn person.

honkedWell it has been my experience in life that calling somebody “stubborn” is not a compliment. I’m not necessarily proud of my so-called stubbornness, however it seems to be a fact that the entire world knows about.

So I’ve been thinking.

I think being stubborn is a good thing, obviously to a point. Being too much of anything is probably not a good thing. If you’re not willing to stick with something and believe in it, then you should probably just go home right now. But you don’t want to be so stubborn that you miss wonderful opportunities.

Anyway, I guess the point here is that I’ve decided to not be stubborn.

I prefer “steadfast”.

It’s much more positive.

Just Writing

Clock Like

Clock Like

Looking at the clock
For months on end
Waiting for it to stop
Just waiting

Dreading it so much
Hardly able to think
Would there be touch?
How many tears?

Then came the night
The clock finally stopped
Beside bright car lights
That moment

Beautiful, when it came
More so than I thought
A memory in a frame
So precious

Books and smells
Talking and reading
Laughter can tell
All of the story

Funnier than I thought
The moment at the end
A moment so caught
By friendly eyes

It ached, you know,
More than I imagined
I held the tears close
Until the clock began again

It is much different now
A different kind of waiting
More subtle, anyhow,
Than I expected

So long since words
Came from me in poems
Somewhat like birds
Singing the veiled stories

I wish I knew how to say
All the things it was
That moment at end of day
But I cannot

For it was both beautiful and unfinished
Like a clock

 

For Laughs · I'm Just Saying

The Oxford Club

shoesThe English Department in my university is housed in a very old building that was originally the men’s dorms. It’s made of old, yellowish brick and is about three stories tall. It sits near the bottom of the hill on which our campus is located, and inside the lights are slightly dim and the halls slightly narrow.

In short, it’s pretty much perfect for housing the English Department in every way. And I mean this with the utmost respect. English is one of my areas of study, after all.

So one day a few months ago I walked past this building, and outside of it I beheld a truly wonderful sight. Several of the professors, all male, were standing outside in a half circle. They all  held mugs and wore tweed jackets and caps, and in the center of them was my favorite professor of all time expounding on some great topic.

Yesterday while I was walking past this building I once again beheld this group of libraryprofessors, again in the half circle. This time they were without the tweed jackets, though the caps were still thoroughly present.

I cannot explain why, but this is literally one of my favorite things on the entire planet.

I’ve named them The Oxford Club.