On being vulnerable

This is a cop out post because I’m really just posting a TED Talk, but I’ll give it a bit of a preface:

I suck at being vulnerable. I can handle pain and stress and grief. I can be perky even when I’m tired and I can talk to just about anyone. But what I didn’t really realize until watching this is that what I really struggle with is allowing people to see me with all of my faults. I spend a lot of time putting on facades. I guess we all do to some degree. The difference is that I don’t know how to go without them. I like people to see me as this sunshiny, smart, determined, witty, put together girl. Even my close friends and family. Maybe especially them. The idea of the people I care about seeing all of my fears and insecurities scares me so much. I know they’ll love me anyway, but I still don’t want them to think of me that way. I guess mostly I don’t want their pity.

Brene Brown says that we need to be vulnerable in order to connect with people, and I can feel intuitively that she’s right. I just don’t know if I can do it. Being with Nob is amazing, but also terrifying because he sees through my facade. He just has this way of knowing when I’m nervous or scared or worried even when my smile fools everyone else. It’s one of the things I like about him, but it also freaks me out. Part of me just wants to push him away when he gets too close to knowing the real me.

Anyway, check out this video. Even if it doesn’t reveal deep-seeded issues the way it did for me, it’s also just really entertaining and informative.


T-minus 24 hours

Tomorrow I move into residence at the university. This time tomorrow perhaps I’ll be sitting in my res room listening to Vampire Weekend pumping out of my new Bose speakers (a belated birthday present from my dad), or maybe I’ll be eating dinner with some of my floormates in the fantastic cafeteria, or starting a game of pick up soccer out on the lawn.

Even though we were actually on campus today paying fees and picking up my student card, it’s still hard to imagine actually being there, like really living there. University is all I’ve thought about all summer during all of those long, hot shifts at the diner and late nights staying up with my laptop. I’ve imagined a zillion different scenarios for that first day, and now that it’s finally here I don’t even know what to think. I keep ending up arguing with myself:

Me: I should wear a t shirt and shorts and be super chill and casual on the first day

Myself: Oh my god no people here are probably so trendy I don’t want to look like a loser I need to put an outfit together like stat. Crap my fedora is all crunched from my suitcase…

I: Who cares! Just wander around and go up and talk to people. You should try to be outgoing and meet a ton of people right away!

Me: Well I don’t want to try to hard…maybe I’ll just chill in my room or something, at least for the first night…

Myself: But then who am I going to eat with? If I don’t meet people I’ll have to go to the cafeteria by myself and sit alone…

I: See this is my point, we need to get out and meet people! Who knows? We might meet our future best friend or boyfriend on the first day.

Me: Crap that’s a lot of pressure for one day.

So yeah. Wish me luck. As you can see, the hype for this day has gotten a little ridiculous.

In which I massively overreact

Okay I’ve always heard that you should never google your symptoms when you’re sick, but I thought that rule was only for hypochondriacs.

My right ear got clogged with water when Lis and I were swimming in Idaho last week. I wasn’t too worried at first. I figured it would pop when I dried out in the sun. Then I assumed it would happen during the drive home. Then I thought maybe I just had to sleep on it. I even hoped that the loud music at the club last night would do it.

It didn’t happen and I was so frustrated. It didn’t hurt, but the pressure was so uncomfortable and I could barely hear when someone stood on my right side and talked to me. I tried cleaning it out with a Q-tip, plugging my nose and blowing out, chewing gum, yawning really big…nothing. The pressure bubble just kept getting worse. Then again, maybe it wasn’t getting worse, it was just making me go crazy to the point where it felt like it was getting worse.

Anyway, desperate times call for desperate measures. Or at least that’s what I told myself. I turned to the internet. This is what it told me:

-The plugging my nose and blowing tactic I had been using was probably going to inflame my ear and give me a massive infection

-For that matter, blowing too much could actually blow up my eardrums

-I probably have an ear infection that could make me deaf if I leave it for long

All I can say about this is never never never web MD your symptoms. I finally went to the doctor tonight and she just squirted some water in my ear. Turns out a ball of earwax was blocking my ear and some lake water got stuck. That’s it.


So anyway, good news, I’m not deaf or dead. Bad news, I may be a hypochondriac.

Does the fact that I just diagnosed myself as a hypochondriac make me an even bigger hypochondriac? That’s kind meta eh? Diagnostic-ception…or something.

Home Alone 5: The Kay Edition

My dad is always worried about me when he goes away for a few days a month for business. He thinks I’ll get lonely or go hungry or something I think. I’m not sure why. By now I’m so used to it that I know how to make is fun.

-I have music on. All. The. Time. Loud, angry punk rock, or maybe the soundtrack from Rent or Les Mis or Wicked, or if I’m in a certain mood maybe some sappy country. You better believe that I sing along at the top of my lungs.

-I pee with the bathroom door open. That’s right, just because I can

-I sleep wherever I feel like sleeping. So maybe in the floor with my laptop or on the recliner watching tv. Sometimes I wake up with a kink in my back but whatevs

-I make big ole ice cream sundaes with chocolate sauce and fruit and nuts and I sit on the counter and eat it and no one can judge me. Not that my dad would anyway, but it’s the principle of the thing

-I watch Game of Thrones with full sound and don’t have to worry about my dad walking in during the semi-pornographic parts

-I talk to my cats about my life problems and they listen attentively. jk they fall asleep, but still

Except I just realized that my dad is coming home tonight and the house is a disaster. Guess I know what I have to do now. Yay dishes.

How to procrastinate

-Say you’ll do it after you finish season three of Game of Thrones

-And catch up on all the stuff backed up on your pvr (I’m looking at you, Pretty Little Liars, and summer repeats of Girls)

-Take your cat for a walk. He looks bored. I mean, cats always look bored, but still…

-Before you get to work you should probably eat, so time to make an elaborate and time consuming lunch. I’m thinking tomato basil bruschetta with melted mozzarella on crackers, and nice little salad on the side…maybe a smoothie too…

-Read self help books like Arlene Dickinson’s Persuasion, about how to build your career…while you know, avoiding doing work for said career

-Stare at grad photos on Facebook from two months ago and wonder how your white grad dress still makes you look pale. Like blue, veiny pale.

-Consider going to the beach right away to get a tan

-Realize that it’s like 15 degrees out and cloudy

-Decide to write a blog post because that seems easier than the article you’re supposed to be writing

-Wonder if you’re really cut out for journalism school if you can’t even motivate yourself to write one article

-Decide to stop torturing yourself and watch more Game of Thrones instead

The four types of yearbook signatures

Looking through my yearbook, the signers can pretty easily be divided into four groups.

1) The complimenters. It doesn’t matter how well you know the person, they have like eight nice but generic adjectives to describe you with, like “sweet” and “cool” and you can be pretty sure they wrote almost identical things in everyone else’s books. That’s okay complimenter, I probably won’t remember you in a few years anyway.

2) The rememberer. Again, it doesn’t matter how well they actually know you, they will dig up some obscure memory from that one time you hung out like two years ago, or that one thing you laughed at in that one class that one time. Examples include:

“Remember that time we went shopping? Thanks for introducing me to Forever 21.” (I forgot we ever did that)

“I still have the sonnet you wrote about me getting struck by lightning” (Rigghht…I remember that…now…)

“I’ll always remember physics class with you, especially your bad Swedish accent while doing calculations.” (I forgot about that too. I hated physics)

“I will literally never forget you climbing up on a chair at your birthday exclaiming, ‘Guys this is how I twerked in Africa!'” (I wish I could forget that one. Also the horrible dancing that followed. And the falling off said chair.)

3) The real friends. You can tell the real friends because they say things that would normally be offensive/don’t make sense, but are okay because you know each other so well. Examples:

“I hope that you marry a Filipino guy so that you can have grandchildren that look like Angelina Jolie.”

“You’re still the girl who cried STD.”

“You should get your schizophrenia checked out.”

“I still want a sandwhich.”

4) Then there’s the things that made me cry when I read them:

“Thanks for your brilliance and wisdom. I know you will change the world.” (My favourite English AP teacher)

“You are the only person I know that commands 100% of my respect and you are my best friend. You always will be even if you’re on the other side of the country. All I can do is thank you for being there since there is no way I can truly say goodbye.” (Mat)

“You are a tremendous person, full of talent and promise.” (My soccer coach)

This was supposed to be a funny post, but then I started reading through all the messages in my yearbook and now I’m getting a little teary and nostalgic. Maybe I’m going to miss high school a little more than I had originally expected to. I mean, I’m excited for university, but it is beginning to be hard to think about leaving all of this behind. Although when I think about high school I often think of it as saturated with boredom and stress and grief, but it was also so full of laughter and this intense sense of belonging. I was crazy to think that I wouldn’t miss that.




I need to have a jealous bitch moment here

Standard angst warning on this post: there is an abnormally high amount of angst in this post. Read at your own risk. Kay and Have You Seen My Glass Slipper? are in no way liable for any psychological damage incurred from extended exposure to this level of angst.

I wish that Mat wasn’t so damn nice, because that would make him a hell of a lot easier to hate. School awards day was today, and Mat swept all the categories: student of the year, school spirit, and journalism distinction, top journalism mark. All of the categories that I should have had locked down. Well, maybe not school spirit.

And yes, they’re high school awards, and in five years or even a couple weeks, no one will care who got them. Really, I get how trivial this complaint is, and I get that I seem like a jealous bitch as well as a compulsive over-achiever, it’s just that I am so SICK of living in Mat’s shadow. I’ve done so much work for the school in the last three years as editor of the yearbook, editor of the school paper, and captain of the soccer team. I’ve mentored a lot of younger students in the journalism program, I’ve done a lot of work advertising for the global aid club and I started a school Twitter account to keep students updated on school events. I really CARE about this school and I thought that people would have noticed that by now, but all they see is Mat. Mat, who is my co-editor in yearbook and the paper. Mat, who is so visible taking photos at events while I only write the copy and work on the layouts of the yearbook. Mat, who is in full French Immersion and full AP to my single AP course.

I do just as much work on the yearbook as he does, but if the principals need to talk to someone about what’s going on with it, they always find him to talk to, even when I’m sitting right next to him in class when they come to get him. Even the yearbook advisor, who knows me, and supposedly knows what I’m capable of, always looks to him for direction.

And those journalism awards piss me off even more because Mat doesn’t even want to be a journalist! He doesn’t even like writing. He’s into photography and he wants to be an economist. I’m the one who is in love with writing. I’m the one who gets paid to write for a magazine. I’m the one who got her publisher to come in to school and speak to our journalism class. Me.

I’m just so angry at him and I know that I’m not being at all fair because he is so kind and selfless and he always includes me and sticks up for me and makes sure that teachers and administrators notice my contributions. He has put up with my frustrated rages when we’re struggling to piece together layouts, the days I ignore him in class while I’m struggling through writers’ block, and all of my sarcasm that isn’t always as funny as I think it is. He is such a good friend and I don’t deserve him.

Besides, I didn’t exactly get ignored at the awards. I was given a $750 scholarship for my trouble, from some donor outside the school to be used for miscellaneous purposes. I should feel grateful because I could really use the tuition money, but it kind of felt as if I was being paid off because they knew they were excluding me from the other awards.

Man, I’m an idiot. I needed to get this off my chest, though. Here it is, the worst of my inner ugliness. If this sort of rant isn’t what an anonymous blog is good for, I don’t know what is.

What to say when people ask you what you’re doing after high school

-I’m taking a year off to practice my beat boxing skills

-I’m moving to a remote hut on the top of a mountain to live as a hermit with my goats

-I aspire to be the next Paris Hilton, or maybe the next Kim Kardashian

-I’m taking a year off to work on my Klingon language skills. Also my elfan.

-I’m renting a Winnebago and travelling around rural Canada to find myself

-I’m joining Greenpeace

-I’m moving to the Playboy mansion

-I’m joining the Hell’s Angels

-I’m joining the circus

-I’m training to be a ninja

-I’m going to spy school

-I’m searching for Horcruxes

-I’m taking a year off to blog about how I don’t know what I’m doing with my life

-I’m taking a year off to blog about blogging about how I don’t know what I’m doing with my life

Just whatever you do, don’t tell anyone you’re going to journalism school. That, they tell me, is completely impractical.

Grad checklist

T-minus one week until grad! Yeah, I know it’s weird. We “graduate” over May long weekend, and then we have to go back to school for three more weeks. It’s weird being in school mode and graduating mode at the same time. On top of that I’m planning my summer and planning university stuff for the fall. It’s an odd time in my life, really. It’s like I have one foot out the door, but I’m not leaving for three and half more months.

My to-do list for the next week looks like this:

-Recover from the AP English Lit exam today, which turned me into a puddle of angst. Nothing like three hours of  writing essays and dissecting poetry full of words you don’t understand to make you feel like you don’t know anything.

-Grandma’s 80th birthday this weekend. And once grandma goes to bed my cousin and I are sneaking out for a pre-grad party with her friends.

-Plan for hangover on Sunday from said party

-Go to pre-grad hair appointment on Monday and have an angst session with my stylist while we figure out what to do with my hair for the grad banquet.

grad shoes

But seriously how awesome are my shoes?

-Get those little nipple stickers because I can’t wear a bra with my grad dress. I don’t want to have to cross my arms every time it gets drafty at the banquet.

-Break in the mint green four inch platforms (they seemed like a good idea in the store while the saleslady gushed about how they make my legs look a mile long. I mean, they do, but I’m not sure I can walk in them.)

-Get accessories that will somehow match said shoes

-GET A SUMMER JOB because otherwise I don’t know how I’ll be able to pay for university

-Figure out when I have to register for university classes

-Figure out what to tell people when they ask me how the hell I plan on making a living with a journalism degree

-Finish reading Jane Eyre and then write a really profound essay about it to make up for the crappy excuse for a research paper that I submitted about Charlotte Bronte

-Try to not fail Chemistry

-At the very least try to not fall asleep in chem every day next week

-Pray for no rain on banquet day so that we don’t have to take grad pics in someone’s living room

-Take photos of field hockey, the world’s most boring and pointless sport, for the school paper (seriously what is the point of making the ball so heavy and the sticks so short that you have to hunch over? It’s like they’re purposely trying to make the game suck)

-Get caught up on Grey’s Anatomy before the season finale

-At least make an appearance at soccer at some point so they know that I’m still alive

-Ditto with track practice. I just need to attend enough practices so I don’t actually face plant in hurdles at the upcoming meet

-Send the school paper to the printers after editing all 48 pages. 48 pages of crap I might add. My articles are included in that crap because I haven’t had the time or energy to care all that much.

-Listen to all the hipster music Pal keeps sending me

-Try to remember to enjoy my senior year or something

-Try to remember why I thought I’d enjoy my senior year

-Try to not scare off all of my friends with the angsty noises I keep making