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Not trying to look younger on purpose

Now that I’m 30 I find myself looking younger in my manner of dressing.  I used to dress a lot more sophisticated than this.  Now I tote around a Luna bag (Sailormoon) for cryin out loud.  But can you blame a girl for only being able to wear skirts, shorts and dresses now?  I never wore them before because my legs were ugly.  Now they’re less ugly and I’m less self-conscious.  But I look like a kid in my sundresses.  o_O

And what is going on with these eyebrows. I haven’t had them threaded since March.  I can’t make sense of them anymore.

#AlexProblems !!!

La Union's birthday gift

I was sad about turning 30 not because I was getting older, but because this, now, isn’t what I imagined 30 would be.  I thought by this time I’d have everything figured out, that my concerns would be more important and all of these problems behind me.

So maybe it’s not perfect.  But the solo trip did make me more positive.  I met people who, okay, they don’t know me, but they made me believe I look great and I’m doing just fine and it made them think that 30 doesn’t seem so old and boring after all (I wasn’t offended at all).  Anyway, I’m here now and at least, there’s one good thing about being in a “crappy” place: you have nowhere else to go but up.

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First step

I am not happy.

There, I said it.  I've been too cowardly to admit it out loud (even my private thoughts only hinted at this, and I was just talking to myself here) but admitting is the first step.

I've been secretly moping a failing, absent relationship (that eventually did fail) for the past year or so when I realized it's possibly not even the reason why I feel sad and inadequate and thoroughly unaccomplished.  It's mostly because of the dead-ends I see in my life and not living up to my own expectations.

I'm getting tired of waiting and hoping.  So before this year ends (and I need to decide on a specific deadline), I should have viable options that I must pursue.  Something always comes up that makes me hopeful and stops me in my tracks, but enough of that.  If it's not a sure deal right from the start then I just have to assume it's not going to amount to much.

I need to decide on how to move on with my life, how to keep growing.  Because I've been stagnant and that's what's eating me up.  I just want to be happy and excited about life again.  It's not even about finding out what I want to do with my life because who knows what the fuck I want in life.  It CHANGES.  As soon as I get something I wanted, it doesn't even feel like what I thought it would.

That's why I'm here

It just dawned on me that the only people I can confide in are guys who used to like me.  There's something weird about that.
I don't have many close friends in fact I can count them in one hand with a New Year's history of bad fireworks.  And among those, there's only one such female friendship and I can't really bother her with this shit right now. o_O
In a rare occasion in high school, I handed an assignment in World Literature.  It was an essay on e.e. cummings' "Maggy, Milly, Molly and May".  I wasn't a conscientious student--I only submitted assignments half the time and rarely participated in class discussions.  I'd review a day before the major exams not with the intention to ace them, but just so I wouldn't fail.  Despite this, I was in the school paper and I was a track-and-field athlete, so I didn't think I was a "bad" student.  But I think I often felt that classes were a waste of my time back then.

My teacher didn't know who I was.  I was never popular and I didn't stand out.  And yet there he was, holding my Literature essay, bothered that it was so good, but not even knowing the kid who wrote it existed (he told me this later).  He looked up my records in his class and found out it was the first assignment that I ever handed in.  (It was literally the only record of my existence in his class.)

The next day, he pulled me aside to talk to me.  He told me that despite this very, very good essay that was the best one he'd read so far from the junior class, I had a very low average in his subject.  The reason being that until that assignment, all my other marks were of course 0 because I hadn't handed anything before then.  Normally, I wouldn't have worried--I was usually like this and I would make up the marks later on because I knew I do quizzes and exams well enough and those would pull my average up.  But this teacher was so concerned about having a student that was not living up to her potential.  No teacher had ever bothered before--to talk to me and ask me to pay attention to my own smarts and to do something about it.  To not just be a mediocre student when I could obviously be more.  I felt surprised, then chastised, but I also felt that I didn't want to disappoint him.

He was so loathe to let my bad record go on that he gave me a chance to write a major make-up essay.  Now that he knew me and knew how well I could write, I pressured myself to come up with something just as good.  I ended up writing a full book report that was several pages long instead of just a 2-3 page essay because that was how bad I didn't want to disappoint him (he even told me later the report was university-worthy).  It's the only time I can remember that someone expected better from me in high school.  So you can be sure that from then on, I handed every essay in, and I exhausted all my efforts (this was before Google and SparkNotes) to make them the best I could possibly write.  He would comment thoroughly on my writing and that encouraged me.  At the end of the term, I got an A in his class.

High school World Lit was years ago but I always find myself thinking back on those days every now and then.  They had a huge impact on me because I remember how differently I had felt, how I had pushed myself into action just because someone believed in me.  It was as if I had been sleeping or just floating along and someone shook me awake.  Sometimes, I wonder, do teachers know how many lives they're able to shape or change?  That the most important lesson they can ever teach is how to make their kids believe in themselves?  Teachers, I think, have the most important job in the world.  (You should be paid more).  And I love you guys.  Thank you for inspiring us, for pushing us to constantly do better and for never giving up.

    Happy Teacher's Day!