writing

“Oh Lord, Know Yourself, Know Your Worth…”

Beside 0 to 100’s opening line being profoundly deep, it really is difficult to know one’s own self and one’s own worth.  I’m pretty sure that we can all agree that ohhhh Lawd, the journey to reaching that point when we realize who we truly are, and are happy with that, is rough.  I’m still trying to reach that point, if there ever is an end to this madness.  I hope so.  I reaaaally hope so.

It’s like I find ways to remind myself just how werrrthy I am, and that I should be confident in myself.  For example, a week ago (no, no shmoney dance) the team I had danced with for a whole year had their banquet.  We were each given back the letter we had written to ourselves at our first meeting.  When I opened up the letter, I just laughed.  It was ridiculous and cheesy!  But I decided to keep it.  I still have the letter, because a tiny tiny part of me wants to believe in it.  I want to trust in the “words of wisdom” I gave to myself on that very first day, even though I might’ve not believed in them then, but hoped I would now.

It’s like I already know myself, and my worth.  It’s like subconsciously I am aware of it, and my conscious self just has to find it.  Woah…talk about meta!

The Struggle Is Real

I’m starting to do that creepy thing again.  No, not where I reach that awkward part of YouTube!  Geeze, that was last week!  I’m talking about stalking old high school peops via LinkedIn.  It rarely crosses my mind to follow up on what others are doing via Facebook.  I’m all obsessed with everyone else’s HASHTAGwhatsyourbigboyjob type of life now.  I think I’m more so obsessed, because I’m trying to find one myself.  You know, that good ‘ol full time job.  I want those benefits, man!

It’s a little sickening at times, because all I begin to do is compare compare compare.  And then things in my life start to become a competition with little Miss So-and-So, when she doesn’t even know who I am, or that we are in a competition, or that there is no real prize for the winner but pride…and possibly a cookie…mayyybe even a little dance party.  It’s so easy for me to justify all the things I have not done or accomplished, by putting down others…and that gets me nowhere but to the music store, where I purchase the tiniest violin, and find someone who knows how to play the violin, so they can play it for me…or maybe I should invest in a music teacher.  It gets a little difficult trying to motivate myself, without any external factors getting in the way.  I want to genuinely do things and accomplish things for myself.  I don’t want to do something, because it’ll make me appear “better” when compared to blank.  I don’t want to be superficial, and it’s a struggle I come across every day.

It’s so easy though, to make those comparisons.  The social media apps are right there at my finger tips.  They ask to be open, and they whisper how I’ll never be good enough.  I don’t want them to control me.  I downloaded them.  I made the conscious decision to make those accounts on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, etc., so don’t tell me what to do!  You don’t own me!  You don’t know who I am!  You don’t know mah lyfe!  (Besides how hard I really try to only post the “good” stuff that will make others perceive my life to be awesome!)

아, 진짜? “Oh, really?”

I am not so much a big fan of Kpop and Kdramas, as I am a bigger fan of their innovative hairstyles, colorful clothes, and amazing beauty products (basically, I’m obsessed with everyone’s complexion).  I’ve watched more than enough Kdramas to get the gist of what certain phrases stand for, and what different words mean.  In fact, I took a whole quarter learning the Korean language, because I was so inspired to one day star in my own Kdrama.  With luck on my side, my Korean class had an end of the year project where we had to do a skit…about anything we wanted!  My group decided to create a video that showcased all of Kdrama’s cliches.  Sooooo, I guess you can say my wish came true!

Disclaimer: I am not a native Korean speaker.  My wardrobe does not showcase the awesomeness of Kdrama attire, in the slightest.  Also,  I should invest in Korean beauty products, so I can get clear and glowing skin!

Hiking in a Thunderstorm

https://instagram.com/p/5SOe_cNW-N/

 

It’s an hour into our hike, and we (my 2 co-workers and I) begin to hear thunder.  We continue walking up the mountain like it’s nbd, but we hear the thunder again, and it’s even louder.

Co-Worker 1 (A 19 year old college student we’ll call Alisha): Megan.

*the sound of thunder*

Co-Worker 2 (A 26 year old we shall call…Debra): Megan.

*the sound of thunder again, but a little louder than the first time*

Alisha: Megan.  Megan!!

*the sound of thunder and it starts to rain…then pour a few seconds after*

Debra: Megan!!

*the sound of thunder, and then we see lightning (like, it was so close!  It continued to show up in 6 second intervals)

Alisha: MEGAN!!

Debra: MEGAN!!

Megan: What do you want me to do about it? *and I start running* RUN! *And then the two start running down the mountain trail with me*

 

Update: I Didn’t Go Anywhere

Screen Shot 2015-07-21 at 12.01.28 PM

It’s hard to come up with new and exciting posts for a personal blog.  Especially when this personal blog is supposed to showcase my many run-ins with the law…Murphy’s Law.  But the thing is, my life has pretty much been a flatline of events.  Although, I did have run-in with the “law” on July 4th.  But, I’ll just prove to you how strong my writing skills are when I say, it’s easier if I told you about it in person, rather than write it down on paper (or monitor screen).  You know, like one of those moments where you get really lazy, or you just don’t know how to use your words, so you comment with a “you-just-had-to-be-there” type of thing.  This is exactly that.  It’s so hard to explain, but you can just trust it was something I would typically encounter.

Plans for this 2015 summer season?  (I mention summer “season,” because I am no longer in school.  The idea of “summer” no longer exists, therefore, “the limit does not exist!”)  This summer season,  I plan to do more than just work at my job and live vicariously through The Mindy Project…or any post-apocalyptic novel about “the chosen ones” obtaining super powers, and using them to overthrow their evil government.  I plan to shift my attention towards any new movie coming out.  Like all those Marvel films, and hashtag thatnewnew Mission Impossible movie, and live vicariously through those instead!  Basically, I plan to experience more.  I want to go outside of my comfort zone, and hopefully acquire new and exciting content that is worth remembering and writing about.

Here’s to more you-just-had-to-be-there moments!

…or nahh

 

My First Day

I was supposed to start my internship on Friday, but that didn’t happen.  I woke up that day super excited and nervous.  I was also feeling a little bit unsure and incompetent…just all around insecure, but I was ready to get things started.  I was ready to go!

I had a 9-5 shift, so I arrived 10 minutes early.  I waited by these 2 big locked green doors.  I waited there, because I was told that I would see people going in and out of it around 9 o’clock, and they should let me in.  Well…it was 9 o’clock now and I hadn’t seen anyone go in or out of those doors.  So, like any responsible new intern, I gave the office a call…but it went straight to voicemail.  Hmmm.  So I walked over to the administration building.  Maybe I had the wrong number.  Maybe I should Google the office’s reeeeealll number.  Nope!  I had the right number.  Heck, I even had the correct extension number memorized.  Damn, the administration building door was locked.  I looked at the “times of operation” posted on the door and it says they open at 9 am.  I peaked inside the administration’s glass doors and saw nothing.  Hmmm…

I walked back to those 2 big green doors that are supposed to be the entrance to start my internship…but they’re still locked.  So I decided to call the office of my employer one more time.  Still…no answer.  Okay, this is weird.  I took out my planner and checked the dates.  I even used more data to open up my email off of my phone to see if I missed anything.  Maybe…maybe, I thought at that moment, I should back go to the admin building one more time.

I tried the door of the admin building…still locked…

BUT THEN…

An older man with a beard came to the door and opened it for me.

Older Man: Good Morning.  Are you trying to get through those doors (referring to those 2 big locked doors where, apparently, I’m supposed to enter through every Friday).

Me: Did you see me lingering around?

Older Man: I saw you walking back and forth to the administration building, and new people to the park usually think that this is the main office.

Me: I’m trying to get a hold of (Name goes here).

Older Man: I don’t think anyone is in their offices.  The museums are open, but the offices are not.  Let me give (That “name goes here” name, goes here now). *calls the other office* I’m getting voicemail.  It seems that no one is in their offices today, because of the July 4th holiday weekend.

Me: Well, my name is Megan.  I am supposed to start my first day today as the communications intern.

Older Man: Well, that’s bad communication right there…

Ba-Dum Tshhhhhhhh

-_-”

Basically…

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.

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.

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.