I wish I was a kid again. I wish I was still cute and never lost interest in wearing sparkly and brightly colored shoes. I wish I still had that no care attitude, and that imagination that told me I can be and do whatever I want. I wish I was still bliss with ignorance, and I wish I still had that want and fascination to know what the world can offer me. However, I do not wish to be a kid all the time, because I don’t wish to still have a bedtime. Let it be known, I love my sleep. I sleep at every chance I get, but I don’t know how much I would like it if someone still told me that I had to go to bed at a certain time.
Personal
My Emotions
The summer began with the attendance of two graduations. My brother graduated from High School, and my sister graduated from college. It makes me want to cry, seeing all these graduates and knowing that a new part of their lives are about to begin. And because my siblings are a part of this class of 2015, it makes me want to cry even more. I am so proud, excited, and scared for both my siblings!
I don’t usually express my emotions. Or rather, show them publicly. But if that rare moment occurs, it usually doesn’t go so well (that’s usually because I become a hot mess, the situation becomes somewhat awkward, and others don’t know how to react because the occasion is so rare). Even when I dance, I’m always told to perform more in my face.
I mean, I don’t even like to hug people. I don’t even express myself through the most simple expression of trust and intimacy (did you know that a hug releases 5% of stress? They don’t say whether it has to be a good or bad hug, so I’m assuming all hugs in general release dopamine. There is no prejudice. Man, maybe this is why I’m such a miserable person. My friend did tell me that she felt I have been a miserable old lady since I was 5…I need to hug!). I just want to be clear though, I do hug people because everyone does it. But if I did not conform to social norms, and I was confident in the choices I made, rather than being self-conscious that whatever it is I want to do is looked down upon, or deemed awkward and weird, by my millennials, and the society I live in today, I would freely choose not to greet with hugs. Rather, I would greet and send people off with high fives!
Even though crying is a little bit different than giving hugs, they kinda have the same purpose. They’re used to release stress and/or happiness. They’re used to show a form of vulnerability and intimacy. They’re used to express one’s feelings, and they’re used every day.
Now I feel like I have to justify myself. Just because I don’t like to physically express my emotions openly, does not mean that I am not an emotional person. In my daily soul searching struggle (ah, was that just an example of alliteration?), I find myself to be a very sympathetic and even empathetic person. It’s just easier for me to contain my emotions whenever I feel like crying in public. I personally feel like crying shows weakness. Or maybe I just care way too much about what others think. Or maybe I’ve given myself that excuse for so long that I’ve trained myself to stop myself before letting anything happen.
For example, my sister is moving away to New York. Not for college, but to start a new life. This past Monday was her graduation day. It would be the last time I would see her before she moved off to New York the following weekend. I told her how proud of her I am. I told her that I wanted to cry and that I would miss her. I mentioned that I wanted to cry, because I wanted her to know how sincere my feelings were at that moment. Coincidently, as I said those words, I felt a soreness in my throat developing. It was the feeling of my tears crawling up as I was trying to suppress them before they burst out of my eyes. I subconsciously told them to stop, and the tears were soon under control. Unlike how I said I was going to, I did not cry. I stopped myself from crying in front of my own sister.
Sometimes I feel like what I say isn’t validated until I show it. Without a doubt, my sister knew that my words were honest. But no matter how much I wanted to cry, I did not. I just wish I did because rather than telling her, or having her know my feelings, I wanted to show them.
Once The Kids Are Asleep
I feel like to be a babysitter, you need to acquire a certain set of skills. I’m not saying we all have to be stealthily trained ninjas or anything, but you’ve got to have tough skin. This ain’t a job for the softies (especially if you got one of those late shifts, or just dealing with really difficult kids). This is not so much a post about survival, as it is a guide for “How Not To Die From A Self-Induced Heart Attack.” I say “self-induced” because sometimes it’s clearly a heart attack we can prevent ourself, from ourselves.
I’ll have you know that I’ve never died from a self-induced heart attack. Therefore, the fact that I’ve never died from one, clears up any doubt you (and myself) might’ve had about my credibility. I am here to share my very important information with my very important guest(s). So now, you should totally listen to me and take what I have to say to heart!
Babysitters Club Movie 1995
Once The Kids Are Asleep
For many babysitters, this is the part we’ve been waiting for! The part of our shift where we’ve been counting down the hours, since we came into contact with these said kids. This is the part of our shift where we can finally relax…WRONG! This is the part where we need to get ourselves together, so we don’t get eaten alive by our own fears. At this time, besides reaching for our wood daggers and our body armor, it becomes our responsibility as the [wo]man of the house to protect it (and our sanity) by following these simple steps.
1. Quit with the imagination.
The kids are upstairs asleep while you’re sitting on the family’s couch, reading a book. You hear a noise in the far distance. You glance up from the page you’re on, and check if anyone is there. You’re heart is pounding because you think you see someone, but no one is really there. You don’t yell out “Anyone there?” because obviously you’ll wake up the kids if you do so, and if you’ve watched any scary movie, that is about the dumbest thing you could do. Because any prospective killer won’t give away his/her hiding place by answering, “Yes, someone’s here!”
Once the kids are asleep, this is the time to shut off your imagination. You no longer need it. The kids you’re trying to impress so you can be considered the “cool” babysitter, don’t care for it because they’re asleep. I highly advise you to turn off your imagination! We are trying to maintain the oxygen flow going into your brain, and we don’t need you stopping your heart beat by making it think there are ghosts, vampires, zombies, or ax-murderers looming around the still and quiet house.
One time, I was babysitting a family that had a small terrier. Around 11:30 pm the dog was barking because he had to pee. Even though I didn’t want to take him outside, a barking dog in a quiet house is the title of my next horror film. I put the dog on a leash and exited into the backyard. As I was standing outside with the dog, I was imagining myself in a scene from a Scream movie as I quickly scanned for moving shadows. I then set my eye on the sliding door that connected the kitchen to the backyard. As the light from within shined through the windows into the darkness of the night, I quickly made a plan on how I would dart for safety. Even though nothing had happened, I made it back into the house with my pounding heart in my hand. Please, in order to prevent yourself from a self-induced heart attack, turn off your imagination.
2. Lock all the doors, be aware of your exits, close all the blinds, and turn on the lights.
This is in conjunction with the first point. Make sure you feel safe and comfortable. You don’t want the parents to come home and find a grown a** woman rocking in the corner, whispering jibberish to calm herself, while sweating profusely (not to say that this post is based of off personal experience or anything).
3. Have your cell phone and cell phone charger handy.
This one is just common sense. How else are you going to dial 911?
4. Check the baby monitor only when necessary.
This is also in conjunction with the first point. Let’s just get straight to it. I hate baby monitors! They scare the living organs out of me. Whenever I turn on a baby monitor and that little black and white screen appears, I always think that I will see the baby out of its crib, staring through the monitor back at me. Or I will hear the baby calling my name, and I will look over and the baby will still be sleeping. I advise you to only check the baby monitor when necessary. How do you know when it’s necessary? If the last time you checked was 30 minutes to 1 hour ago. Or if you really do hear a noise. I doubt a baby will know how to say your name, if they can’t even say “momma” or “dadda.” Lastly, check the baby monitor if you feel like something is wrong. Go by intuition.
5. Bring a book.
Bring any book that makes you feel happy! This will make you calm. You deserve to wind down. It’s been a long day, and it’s nice to have some you time. Fill your head with happiness and the good stuff, like unicorns and throw pillows.
Retail: Being Hired As A Therapist
I have been working in retail for about 5 years (you can also refer to my LinkedIn for proof *wink wink*). My first job was at Barnes and Noble, I also took up a crossover position at Banana Republic, and finally ended my retail “career” at a children’s clothing store called Hanna Andersson. I feel like retail has taught me more about people and life, than any other life experience I’ve encountered (to a certain degree).
How Not To Lose Faith In Humanity
The companies I’ve worked for did not hire me as just a Bookseller, Brand Ambassador, and Sales Associate, they hired me as a retail therapist. I am told I have that face. You know, the one that says “I’m a good listener, tell me all your problems, and I won’t judge you” type of face.
Side Note: In actuality, when you’re a stranger shopping in my store, I really don’t want to hear about how someone stole your parking spot and now your whole day is ruined (I just want to listen to my own thoughts, where I’m wallowing in self-pity and telling myself I need to do something that will do a better job at paying the bills). In reality, when you’re a stranger shopping in my store, I AM judging you! It’s just a natural thing that human beings do. We form opinions based on first impressions. End Side Note.
That’s how I was in the beginning of my retail days. As days, weeks, months, and years went by where customers would continuously be rude, vent, and laugh with me (and at me), I began to realize that we all want the same thing. We all want someone with an objective POV to just listen to us. We want someone to be there for what we feel that day and in that moment.
Not to say that there weren’t days where I wanted to completely give up on humanity…Like yelling something at the top of my lungs about how disrespectful and rude everyone is when they don’t even know me, when they don’t even see how hard I’m trying to help them and be there for them. I would then drop the mic *drops mic,* flip over a table (in this case, it would be the store’s portable folding table), do a little boogie, throw up a peace sign, and walk into the sunset with my sunglasses on and a venti iced green tea lemonade in my hand.
Rudeness is merely an expression of fear. People fear they won’t get what they want. The most dreadful and unattractive person only needs to be loved, and they will open up like a flower.
– M. Gustave (The Grand Budapest Hotel)
(Although rudeness should never be an excuse to mistreat someone you don’t know, because we all know what it means to have manners, I thought this quote fit in nicely to my experiences in retail)
Retail is tough. It has taught me to be patient, to be kind, to channel my inner peace (this kinda sounds like the Prayer to Saint Francis….ohhhh boy, did it take me a lot of prayer and believing in a higher power when I came across just straight up mean customers who thought they could change a 30 year policy, or yell at me when they couldn’t get their way, or scold me on how to do my job when I’ve been doing my job for 2 years). Retail has taught me to show compassion, and if someone wants to complain to you about their day, to really listen (even when you don’t want to). Because maybe they don’t have anyone else to talk to. Maybe they’re stuck staying at home all the time, isolated from the outside world on a daily basis with no outside communication, unless it’s the occasional mall outing when they decide they have time to shop and be amongst society. We don’t really know. I don’t think anyone ever really knows. Retail has taught me to be there for people, and that I can feel guilty, but I shouldn’t feel guilty for things that are out of my control.
People just want to talk, strangers just want to share, and individuals just want to be accepted.
Stalling On My Adulthood
I like school. A lot. But I can’t figure out if it’s whether or not I use it as a security to prevent myself from actually facing the realities of life and a career. After I graduated college, I moved back home. I no longer had the financial aid to help me pay my month’s rent, or utilities, or water bill (thank you financial aid!). It was all gone. Now I have to use my own money, that I make from babysitting, to pay my cell phone bill, car, and insurances. Being in school, or more specifically, college, was the best! It gave me my freedom and independence, without having me work so much for it.
I find it embarrassing having to move back home, that I want to move out already. No one is forcing me to. My mother is very generous. She doesn’t even make me pay rent (which I am super grateful for). But I want to move out for myself. I want to move out to prove to myself (okay, and my peers) that I am not a dud or dependent. I know a lot of people move back home after they graduate, but in reality that is what people like me (who have moved back home), tell others (who have moved back home), to make them feel good about themselves. And do I feel better about myself? YES! But only for a hot moment.
I’m proud of myself, because for the past year, I’ve been trying to figure out what I want to do. I’ve stuck to babysitting, and holding myself back from really finding a legit career. People tell me, you don’t have to have it all figured out now, but in a way we do. Or else, we remain stagnant and continue living at home and being miserable because you can’t host a party, because your mom has work in the morning and your siblings are sleeping because they have school the next day. Oh, right! Going back to why I’m proud of myself. I am proud of myself, because I now have something to work for. The next step is grad school, and in order to get into grad school I need to study for the GRE (then obviously take them…eventually). It’s nothing big, but it is to me, because I get to go back to school! And hopefully be able to move out anytime soon.
(Plus going back to school allows me to delay that dreaded and mundane life called adulthood).
This is my next step. I now have something I can work towards. Something I can look forward to. Who knows if what I’m going to grad school for is something that I truly want to do. But it’s something. Who knows if this means I will eventually have it all together, but I’ll know when I get there. I’m tired of trying so hard as to what it is I want to do. Let me just do something, and hopefully everything else in my life will fall into place. I’m done chasing what will make me happy, because that’s what I’ve been attempting to do so far, and it has led me to be miserable. By being realistic, maybe this is me thinking like an adult, but not fully emerged into acting like one.
Current Mood: Afraid
I am afraid of leaving my friends, known places, and familiar feelings, because I fear of being uncomfortable. I am afraid of loss and change, because I fear instability, chaos, and the unknown. Dang, just call me one big scaredy cat!
I have established a life (let’s be real…a “social” life) here in Southern California, which makes it harder on me whenever I consider leaving it. I want to leave and experience everything! I know that I am young, and I understand that there is a bigger world outside of my little world that I live in right now. However, I continuously find myself in one place, attached to this comfortable community.
Let’s be real, making new friends at this age is kinda tough, which can go under cons on my “If I Were to Leave SoCal” list. I am told that I should travel. I should live in different parts of the country. I should (blank) because I can, and I can always come back. I don’t have any commitments, or any real long-term goals here in SoCal, but there is one thing that I just can’t escape. And that is change.
It’s odd that I’ll allow myself to change and grow as a person. But it makes me sad at the idea of others evolving and growing into all that they can be, without me. I just don’t want to miss out on what my friends and I can learn with one another. And for some reason, if I stay, we can continue to grow in experience and in age, together.
Maybe it’s a part of growing up, maybe it’s a part of life, but we are always wanting to improve our experiences, and travel to new places. I am scared that if I leave, there won’t be anyone beside me who truly understands the emotions that come with growing up. I know that we cannot be together forever, but I don’t want to lose the connection with my friends, and I don’t want to lose that support.
In order to get a better idea of who I am and what I want out of life, I’ll eventually have to leave the place where I am most comfortable. It’s scary, and I’ll admit that I’m one big scaredy cat! But from what I’ve heard “your life begins, where your comfort zone ends,” and my first step to making that happen is embracing what scares me, and walk through the door.
The Day I Was Promised A Bunny
When I was 9 years old, my family and I went to a pumpkin patch. The pumpkin patch had a petting zoo. Actually, it was more like a petting farm, because it was basically a gated area with lots of farm animals. Besides the typical goats, this “petting farm” had rabbits. Dwarf bunnies to be exact. I remember holding one in my arms and it fell asleep. At that point, I knew I wanted a bunny for a pet.
There I am to the left, holding the bunny from the petting farm in my arms. Now that I look at it closely, the bunny looks scared. Maybe it pretended to fall asleep, in order to calm itself down from the anxiety of being held by a kid.
I asked my mom if I could get a pet bunny of my own. She said that if I learned about bunnies and how to take care of them, I could get one. So I found myself at the library researching all the books I could find about bunnies and how to take care of them. I photocopied all the books I found (I guess I didn’t know what a library card was, because I could’ve just helped save the environment for my future kids by checking out the books and taking down notes on recycled paper or something). After all that research, I decided that a floppy eared bunny was the bunny I wanted to get. I knew that I wanted to have a boy bunny, and name him Pinocchio (I also had this slight obsession with Pinocchio at the time. I owned 3 different types of Pinocchio marionettes, a small Pinocchio figurine, and a Pinocchio pencil holder…yes, when I like something, I end up going all out).
I did it! I had done my research. You could call me a pro at this point. I was ready to be a pet owner…
In the end…after alllll this…I never got my bunny.
What Do You Want To Do?
So…I still don’t know what I want to do when I “grow up.” Right now, my biggest worry is whether or not I get to eat ice cream for breakfast. You might think that it’s kinda dumb, and if I wasn’t in such a “positive” mood, I would agree with you. However, I’m not going to…today. It’s not dumb, because it’s what’s important to me at the moment. Woah, for those that know me, look how much I am progressing by this whole living-in-the-moment kind of mindset.
I know what I want to do, ie. sleep, eat ice cream all day, shop on a million dollar shopping spree…but career wise? Hmmm, give me a sec…
23 years later…
pixshark.com
Yup! Still trying to figure it out. It’s even harder when I’m still trying to figure out who I am. I have found comfort in the fact that there are a lot of other people that don’t know what they want to do, but I was hoping for a little more direction in my life at this point. When a good amount of the public ask me what I want to do and I say “I don’t know,” their next question is always “Well, what do you like to do?” I like to do a lot of things! But I don’t know if those things are “things” I would still like to do in the future. Or would benefit me career wise. I’m a very indecisive person. My opinions and likings about things often change (except when it comes to the color Orange. I love Orange! It seriously is…the new black). So how do I expect myself to know what I want to do for the rest of my life?
Don’t get me wrong, I have involved myself in various activities that I thought would help put me on the right path, but I somehow end up not enjoying any of them. It always turns out to be boring, and then I start to question if this is something I want to continue doing every single day.
I want my life to be exciting! I dream about being a superhero! I want to show off some really cool martial arts moves and show others that I’m not ordinary. But it’s only a dream, because who really has the time to plan out a science experiment that goes wrong, where I fall into a puddle of hazardous material, somehow survive, and wake up with electric powers, or with the ability to turn into silver liquid and transport to anywhere I want (ayyyye, if she doesn’t get that Alex Mack reference…she’s too young for you).
The other day, I was babysitting for a new family. The mom wanted to know more about me. She asked the usual questions: “Are you in school?” “What was your major?” and “What do you want to do with that major?” And my answer went something along this line, “I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure it out.” She then responded with something, that I believe will stick with me forever (well knowing my indecisiveness, I don’t know/haven’t decided if this is something that I want to have stick with me forever…because it could either go good or bad). She said “You don’t have to have it all figured out right now. People change their careers on an average of 7 times throughout their lifetime.” These words quickly made me feel better. However, it still made me feel like I was running out of time. Plus, I don’t know how long my lifetime will be.
I think I have about 4 more tries left to change my career (if you count working as a Sales Associate, a Babysitter, and a volunteer at the Natural History Museum [I seriously thought I wanted to work in a museum my whole life. Turns out, it’s not for me] as careers).
I feel like it’s easier for those who appear to have it all figured out, to tell you that you don’t have to have it all figured out this instant. But at the same time, I feel the pressures of society pushing me to believe that I have to know who I am and what I want to do right nowwwwww, because if I don’t start working, I won’t ever be happy.
Ugh, but I don’t know…
My Mourning Routine
- Wake up and cry a little because I miss my sleep.
- Plan out my day (clean my room, go to the bank, go to work, then off to dance class).
- I’ll have you know, what I plan out never gets done, because I get super lazy and scared to just even leave my room (hashtag truth).
- Sometimes I’ll make it into my car, drive to where I need to go, get scared and never leave my car, then drive back home until I have to leave for work.
- Put food in my stomach.
- What I drink/eat for bfast: water, frozen pizza or cheez-its (whatever is handy. Sometimes I eat ice cream or last night’s dinner).
- Think about eating healthier, but will just end up starting “tomorrow.”
- Wash up!
- Change for work aka Appear decent, then complain to myself that I’m not fashionable and have really ugly to no clothes (no literally, the only clothes I have in my closet are t-shirts, sweats, and bball shorts I can wear to bed, to babysit, or to go to dance class and rehearsal in).
- I am a babysitter, so I can usually wear whatever I want. I spend a good couple hours sitting on my bedroom floor, thinking about how to make myself look stylish. Then I remember the kids I babysit usually get dirty real fast from literally playing in the dirt (or they sometimes bite me and try to eat my clothes), and I revert to raggy t-shirts and jeans (because sweats are so unprofeshhh)
- Put my hair in a ponytail (can’t have any distractions while I watch other peoples’ kids–yes, I take my job seriously. But on the days I don’t, I force kids to watch tv. Unfortunately, kids don’t like watching tv anymore, and so I actually have to play with them. You may think I’m a horrible babysitter, but I’m actually pretty damn good).
- Leave for work aka Time to make that mula babyyyyy!
Technology and Chain Letters
The dance team I am on hosts an annual Cabin Trip. At this Cabin Trip, we exchange gifts with our Secret Cabin Buddy. This game is eerily similar to the game Secret Santa. On the day of the big reveal, my Secret Cabin Buddy got me incense, my favorite candy, a sweater, and last but not least, Chromecast. Which was a big “ooo” and “aaaah” moment. I said “ooo” and “aaaah” just to belong…but to be honest, I had the slightest idea as to what this Chromecast was. I’ll have you all know, I am technologically challenged. I can’t even figure out how to work a DVD player, let alone turn on the tv. But some how the 4 year old that I babysit does…
My Secret Cabin Buddy tried to explain to me the purpose of Chromecast and all the cool things it can do. Don’t get me wrong, it sounds amazing! But I was so not into it when he was explaining how it works, because I was already dreading the installation process of that thing…and SPOILER ALERT: I tried installing it and everything went wrong. I think I did it half correct, but I haven’t tried using it since February. This is because I’m scared I won’t be able to figure it out, and I might just curl up into a ball and start crying, while gently rocking myself to sleep. Sooo basically, I’ve just given up.
It’s like this one time, at band camp…jk, but seriously…this one time, when I was about 8 or 9 years old, my cousin gave me a chain letter. (Now mind you, this was before email, so this was a hand written chain letter). I didn’t understand what the heck a chain letter was, yet alone the meaning of the word “chain,” and the whole big symbol it represented in its actual name: “chain letter.” I was so confused when my cousin explained it to me. So confused, that I literally ran into the other room, laid down on the couch, and cried. Yes, I cried! I cried holding that measly paper in my hand. The letter that I was supposed to copy (or re-write) and pass forward to a specific number of people. I’ve never felt such a low in my self-esteem and self-confidence before. Well, I can seriously share multiple instances when I’ve felt that way, but that’s for another time. To complete the story (if you’re really wondering how it ended), I never continued the chain letter.
The story above depicts how I feel every single time I come face-to-face with technology. Any type of technology. We don’t have to get specific, because it’s technology as a whole that I just don’t understand. I’m not even the most basic when it comes to being tech-savvy. I just can’t.
Befriending Murphy 