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Role Models

Fri, 23 Oct 2009 20:26:15 +0100

There comes a time in everyone's life when we must grow up. Maturity increases as we get older... (some much faster than others.. *cough cough*) .. And we are soon obligated to promote ourselves to the grownups we looked up to. Our heroes will always be our foundation in life; whether we want the position or not, we each become a hero to someone else. We become the role models to a less mature generation and our actions are monitored with every passing glance. Now I don't know about you, but I want to be the best grownup ever to younger people. Especially my family. I want to be my nieces' and nephew's top role model. I want to be the one they turn to when they are scared to go to their parents for advice, or when they need a good laugh. I want to grow into a mature, yet fun and friendly adult to my own kids. When my nieces get to the age of dating and friendship turmoils, I want to be the one to give them fresh advice and take them out for ice cream.

My sisters and brother were great role models for me-- portraying every aspect of being a teenager, and the different ways of dealing with them. This applies to my parents as well. I was greatly blessed with a great and loyal family. Never leaving my side. ((Have I mentioned I'm such a cry baby??? Someone get me a tissue over here.)) My dad always had great a great ear to listen, a comforting shoulder to cry on... my mom was always there to give me my much needed freedom, and good way of building my future so I wouldn't end up throwing away my abilities. All of these traits I wish so badly to inherit more and more as I get older.

I want more than anything in this world to be the best person I can be. To help others and be their role model. I don't want to be one of those aunts or moms that are too busy for kids. The ones that are too caught up in their own lives to neglect a child and their problems. Even if it's just something as little as a bad day at school. I do not want to grow up apart from my family because they are the only people that love me for who I really am, and I dream of being every member of my family combined in to one awesome hero.

I know this note is repetitive and I keep winding back to where I started. I just can't stress how badly I want to be there for my family the way they are for me. I know I won't be able to pay back how much they've done for me, but the only way and the best way for me to show my undying gratitude is to pay it forward to the next generation. When the little ones in my family get old enough to walk and talk, I want to be there. When my oldest niece, my partner in crime, my best friend, grows up.. I want to be by her side when things don't go according to plan. It's so important to me... more important than an overwhelming and stressful career-- although I know I need to have that in my future-- but more so, I just want to be a good person. To respect my elders and be a leader to my younger family.

Now, you're all probably thinking "Aww, what a touching story. What's this got to do with me?? Where's the part that teaches me yet another life lesson?"

The lesson is-- Choose your actions wisely. Regardless of age, if you have a role model, you're obligated to become one yourself. And high school is where it starts--- from there until parenthood, and beyond. So start proving to yourself that you're maturing in to an adult, where others look up to you. If you don't display good habits, you're showing that it's okay to act like mindless idiots. And for the older ones, the ones that are already role models, whether or not you know you are... keep being the best you can be, because for every action we hand out, there's always an equal reaction-- are yours worth repeating?

Not Another Epic Novel!!

Fri, 23 Oct 2009 20:26:48 +0100

(This was previously posted on Facebook, therefore there might be some references to that.)

YAY!!! more life-altering thoughts by Kristin.

This is the last time I'm tagging people in my notes-- if you'd like to continue reading these, I'll continually post them.. but no more tags. only because I don't intend for people to compliment on my writing skills, or lack thereof. I want these insights to make you people think. To apply them to your own lives. I already know (somewhat) what I want to do with my life... and I realize I've inherited a great mind from my parents. I like hearing feedback- but not about how much of a "young Dr. Phil" I can be. Ha.

So... continuing!!!
I realize the majority of my notes are slightly on the negative side, but that's not my intention. It's the negativity that makes me thrive on positives. Most of the people close to me realize I'm one of the biggest cry-babies they'll ever meet. Not only is that inherited, but I've learned to look through all the cruddy things in life to get to the sweet, gushy center. Although I must admit that the same principle did not apply to those Tootsie Pops I used to eat all the time as a kid. I hated the middle... that gushy, poopy-flavored tootsie roll. Yuck..
Okay.. I keep getting side tracked. Apologies.

I'm like my oldest sister-- we cry at the drop of a hat. When we feel, love, think... we do it all so deeply.
I put much thought in to everything I do; too much for my own good, in fact. The only part of that that doesn't match up together is my actions- my words. Sometimes I think so hard upon a subject, that later on I'll do something without thinking at all. ...Everyone has their flaws.

I've been taking the ever-so-simple Psychology class in my high school. It has taught me about why we act the way we do. Just this morning, I overheard a conversation about someone stealing her friend's date to this worthless dance in our school. By no means, am I trying to offend anyone who participate, or enjoy, this whole dance thing... But it's not my cup of tea. It's a teenage drama fest. Yes, I realize the hypocrisy of my words are bouncing all over the place, and my unorganized thoughts are never ending... but I have a point-- I swear.

I learned years ago that teenage relationships are for learning experiences. And fun. On the rare occasion, some high school sweethearts end up tying the knot after all. But more importantly, girls and boys dwell too much on what their so-called "friends" say behind their backs, or if they're boy/girlfriend looked at some other girl/guy. There's a fine line between infatuation and love. I also mistakenly fell in "love" when I was too young to understand what it meant. And regardless if I'm doing it again or if it's real this time is besides the point. Truth is, we ALL must go through that. It's part of being a teenager.

Adolescence is defined as the transition from childish actions to adultlike ones. I was blessed with a quicker transition, and to this day I do not realize what reason was behind that. Maybe God intended for me to be some type of role model, for which I would LOVE to fulfill that prophecy. I'm not being vain; I envy those who don't want to grow up. I have just found a healthy balance of both worlds-- Most of you know big of a dweeb I can be. I give much respect to those out there who ignore all of the low things people do. One of those people I talked to today; I'm proud of you, girl. My family is like that too, and I love the heck out of them. (*Sniff sniff*) There I go again.

Getting back to that conversation I eavesdropped in on. Remember the part where I said I do things without thinking when I think too much? This morning is a great example. I immediately retorted with a "Are you kidding?" followed by a rant of how pathetic those dances are and how much I despise the competiveness of girls... of my high school. I know people think of me as a loser because of my lack of motivation to get so involved in my school. But what they do not know about me is that I don't do those things not because I don't have the ability or the physical appearance to do so.. but it's because I don't fit in. Yeah-- I don't fit in to the secrecy. The drama. The "did you hear what she said about so and so?!". The cliques or the stereotypes. I'm not like them. I love my life. And my life does not revolve around what my fellow classmates or coworkers think of me.

I think about what's TRULY important in my life. My family. My scarce, but true, friends. Nobody understands how SICK I am of high school. Not because I hate the schoolwork, but because of how much I dislike how people treat others. It's so unbelievably pathetic.

I'm independent. I value that in a person. I'll accept that teenagers are teenagers, but they'll learn eventually... Some just take longer. Even in their twenties, some people's stupidity is so great it makes me question mankind's morals these days.

Just think about it, everyone. If you notice a cop in your rearview mirror, you automatically slow down. You're more cautious and alert. You don't dare cut anybody off. Now imagine that your parents, or God, was standing behind you when you do the things you do and speak the things you speak. Would they be disappointed? Or would they be proud? Don't ever forget that little angelic voice that tells you what's right from wrong, and don't give in to the satanic suggestions of the other voice. Keep your chin up. Treasure innocence. The angel is still there and he's ready to guide you and take care of your every need.

Everyone is thinking it, I'm just going to say it

Fri, 23 Oct 2009 20:27:14 +0100

When you start talking to a person, and the first thing that comes out of their mouths is a complaint... don't you just want to smack them upside the head? But instead, you cut them off in the middle of their story to do the exact thing they're doing-- "Oh that sucks.. Did I mention that I got a papercut today? I mean.. I'm sure stubbing your toe hurt, but you have no idea how deep that papercut is!"

Why is it that we get so impatient and so utterly annoyed when someone vents to us? But on the flip side, we always find a more degrading, self-pitied story to top theirs.
What ever happened to trying to impress someone else by telling them how great your day was instead of making yourself look more pathetic than them by finding a way to express how much your life sucks?

...And the world wonders why the depression rate has sky-rocketed.

When you find yourself with nothing to do, and no one is around, don't you instantly feel your stomach start to growl? However, you just had a snack an hour ago... you still find it easy to remind yourself that you didn't eat very much for breakfast. Time to make up that waste of a meal!

Why is it that our first destination come boredom is the refrigerator? I'm bored. Maybe there's some ice cream somewhere around here. What's sad is that I'm eating a Nutty Bar as I'm typing this. The exercise it takes to walk to the fridge and back to the couch could easily measure up to the amount of energy it takes to call up an old friend to catch up on things. What ever happened to taking a walk around the block or doing something at least slightly productive so you have something to be proud of yourself for?

...And the world wonders why Americans are so overweight.

When you find a $20 bill in your pocket, the first thing that comes to your mind is "Sweet! Now I can go purchase the ticket to that movie I've been dying to see!" But when the time comes to drive home from the movie, you suddenly realize you're on the E mark on your gas gauge. Crap. Shoulda spent it more wisely!

Why is it that we can dig ourselves so far in debt, but every spare amount of cash we can get our hands on, we blow it like it was water running through our hands? We have all these things we wish we had, but when it comes to money, we waste it as if it were a renewable resource in our pockets. We use the plastic money and end up paying twice as much for something already expensive and unnecessary because interest rates are unbelievably high. What ever happened to taking all the extra change in your pocket at the end of the day and putting it in that cute little plastic piggy bank? Instead we dig our faces in the couch cushions to find four quarters so we can drive to get a McDouble with our gas tank on E.

...And the world wonders why everyone is becoming depressed, fat, AND broke.

Luckily, some of these things do not apply to everyone. But I guarantee we at least know of people like this if is indeed not ourselves. But everything comes hand in hand. We start losing money, so we buy cheap and fatty foods. We start gaining weight and lose our health, so we become depressed because of how low our life has become. Fortunately, not everyone in the world is like that. The older generations seem to either have great fortune, or poor habits. Most of the elders in our society are fairly wealthy, have great health, and are happy, upbeat people. The others are broke, on drugs, and headed downhill in their lifestyle. We need to start picking up on the older people's habits-- Not throwing away a single thread of useless junk; it could come in handy some day. Not wasting away our money and saving it to buy that awesome retirement home; life is so much easier when money stays in your pocket. And more importantly, treasuring the things that really DO matter: Our family. Family values. Morals. Faith. Good habits. Good health. Surrounding ourself with healthy, wealthy, happy people. Work hard for your money and spend it wisely. Think before you act, and use your actions to reflect that God is watching your every move. You can't take anything out of this world when you leave, so why waste your money on things that won't make a difference whether or not you had it during your lifetime? Spend your time and money on things to make your stay here worth while.

I'll always remember the time when someone I met had quoted a valuable piece of knowledge that comes in handy for a note such as this-- On your headstone after you've left this world behind, there are the dates in which you were born, and which you have passed away. But in between those dates, there's a dash. That dash is subconsciously filled with everything that completes who you are. Who you were. When you leave this earth, think about one thing: What does your dash say about you?

Looking at all the negativity in this world, it just makes me sick. Exhibit A: Look how many teenagers are knocked up these days. Are they that broke and lonely that they find stupid decisions as a way to make their life easier? Whoever created the saying, "Live for the moment" would be so disappointed. But what really upsets me is when those pregnant girls have that baby, parenthood is a choice to them. Grow up and make that mistake worth it.
Exhibit B: Look how many broke bastards (Excuse my language) are blowing their life away on drugs and alcohol because they have no other means of entertainment resulting in how poor they are. Get a job and rethink your morals.
Exhibit C: How much has hypocrisy improved since the earth has been born?
-134982347... Everyone is a hypocrite... So listen to your parents when they say "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."

I could go on forever, but that would result in taking a quick break to run to the store and getting another box of nutty bars because I'd get so bored that I would dig for spare change and procrastinate saving up gas money. I'm such a hypocrite.

Conclusion: There is no conclusion. The ending was that our world has become so broken down.. Americans moreso than others. I'm just impatiently awaiting the day that morale will improve, and in the back of my mind I know it will never happen at the rate we're going. Think about it.
...Now I wonder if I have a couple bucks for those nutty bars......

Life is an Operating Room

Fri, 23 Oct 2009 20:27:30 +0100

The other day I sat in the waiting room at the Sanford Clinic for God knows how long, impatiently waiting to get it all done and over with. The only magazines were Parenthood, Oprah, and a hunting one. Can you guess which one I chose? Heh.. As I flipped through the pages reading about buck decoys and bass fishing tips, I thought to myself.. Why am I so scared? I've been through experiences ten times worse than this and I'm still shaking. I was awakened from my thoughts with a loud voice of a nurse-- "Kristin?" I put the magazine down and followed Mom and the nurse to the same operating room as the last time. Dr. Christenson asked the loaded question, "This might be a little worse than the last time... Would you like any anesthesia to put you out for it today?" ..My first thought was the words I spoke. "How much more money will that cost??" The doctor gave me a little smile and gently said, "Ohh, around $1500." I laughed out loud and said, "Just get this done so I can go home."

I changed in to the gown and laid myself on the table in the middle of the cold, empty room. As I stared at the blinding light above me, I waited for the doctor to come back in and start his procedure. Last time they had lain a heated blanket on me to keep me calm and warm, but this time they left that out. Mom was seated in the corner, anxious to watch. The doctor dabbed my face with an iodine-covered sponge. My breathing quickened once I saw him uncover the cap to the 3-inch needle that was about to be injected by my eye. He put a paper thin towel over the rest of my face and left the operating portion open. This time I couldn't bear to watch. As the nurse grabbed my hand I felt the sting of a needle piercing the skin just below my right eye.. So this is what a bee sting feels like? Then I felt the numbing liquid pour out of the needle tip. It was then that I felt bad for the nurse who had to deal with my clenching grip on her hand. I almost couldn't take it-- it was so painful I could have screamed. I felt the needle pull out and the excess medication drip down my cheek. Another poke, another tighter grip, another rapid breath. Four times I felt that needle on my face. Fortunately it got better every time. The numbness started to kick in. I started to breathe a little less rapid, my grip had been slightly released on the nurse's hand, and my toes had straightened out from the curled position they had been in to distract the pain. Next I felt a slight push on the numbed area-- he had begun to slice open the skin to get whatever it was by my eye out of there. I couldn't feel much, but my imagination ran wild at the thought of my skin being torn open and pulled away from where it was supposed to be.
When I was there, I started thinking about my life. Mostly to distract me from those horrible thoughts of being awake while the doctor operated on my face... But also because I hadn't taken the time lately to stop and think about how and where my life is going. I started to come up with the metaphor that life is like an operating room. You lay on the table, not knowing what is in your future. You only use the information from your past experience to make decisions about the future. The doctor is like God. In a way that he is indeed healing you. But in the healing process, you must endure suffering. Without the suffering, you will be forced to face the little problems day after day after day without ability to fix it by yourself. The problem will grow, and in the end it will be harder to face when the time comes to take care of it. If your try to take the easy way out, it will be much more costly, that I can assure you. The nurse is your family and friends who are there to hold your hand in the toughest and most painful times. You grip on their hand shows them how much you need them. If you don't hold on to them, there's a chance that they will feel helpless and that they are not needed, resulting in them walking away as you go through life without a hand to hold.

A few tears welded up in my eyes and I could only feel them drip down one side of my face. The other was still numb, and still being operated on. I could tell he was almost done with the cutting.. but I heard an eerie noise and a wave of a burning smell came over me. "What are you doing??" I blurted out. The doctor explained that he was using a device to stop my skin from bleeding so much. I didn't dare ask anything more. I was already creeped out as it was. I gathered the nerve to open my eye and attempt to see what the doctor was doing.. But all I could see was his white gloves covered in my blood. I immediately closed my eye again and tried to distract myself.

The nurse had left and my mom was then standing by my side. It was almost over. I felt the stitches close up the cut one by one. The whole experience left me shaking profusely as Mom held my hand. I felt her touch caress the top of my hand and my arm. It was so comforting, but I still could not control the shaking. As the doctor finished, he uncovered my face and cleaned everything up. He handed me a mirror and I saw a white puffy eye with 7 stitches underneath it. I let out a long sigh of relief that it was finally done. Mom patted my hand and smiled at me as she looked at it too. The doctor proceeded to tell me all the precautions and instructions to keep from harming the cut and the stitches. He left and I changed back into my clothes as I listened to Mom telling me what all happened. She explained that he used a device much like a lighter version of a soldering gun to stop the bleeding... Creepy... My mother is very strong and can handle just about any gory situation. But evidently this one had made her light headed. "I almost passed out," she admitted. I was just glad I wasn't able to watch. We headed home and I went on with my day as if it was any other. I guess I've done things like that a few times, eh?

I continued to think about my metaphor over the course of the day. I came to this conclusion: The waiting room is your environment. The people in the waiting room are the people you pass in the hall or on the street. Strangers. The magazine is what you choose to pass your time. There are various ways to entertain yourself, and other people have different interests. My mom, for example, chose the Oprah magazine. I, on the other hand, chose the hunting one. We shared information about what we were reading and just enjoyed each other's company. The nurse who brought me to the room represents your calling to deal with your problems. The longer you wait, the more troublesome they become, making you impatient and anxious. I already explained the doctor and the nurse in the operating room, so next is the stitches. They are your protection. The scar left behind will always be there as a reminder of what you went through. Some people have more scars than others. But we all have scars, nonetheless. Some patients' operations can take a lot longer than others. Just keep in mind that in the end, it will be completely worth it. In the time being, you must distract yourself and hold on to the hands of your nurses. The instructions and precautions from the doctor are your guide to live your life while avoiding your risk of getting yourself into another situation like the one that was just fixed. If you don't learn from it, your chances will increase of opening that scar again. And in the end, you'll have more stitches and bigger scars. As my mother held my hand in the end, it made me realize that your true friends and caring family are there to be there for you and hold your hand no matter what the situation is. Whether it be dealing with your grasp as you go through a painful operation, or to reassure you that everything will always be okay in the end. As you let out your own sigh of relief, think about those people that are close to you. Hold on to them. And don't let yourself be stubborn. Let God heal your problems. Your pain will be numbed if you let matters stay in His hands. If you ignore the signs, or take matters in your own hands, you will come to find that the problem will be greater as life goes on.

So surrender to the Healer and live your life the way that's best for you. And always be there for your friends and family who are next in line. And also, don't forget to greet the patient across the bench in the waiting room. Although he may be a stranger, he will appreciate the gesture... he is also in line for that cold, empty room.

Imperfection and Judgement

Fri, 23 Oct 2009 20:27:46 +0100

If we take the time to think about it, it really is true that no two people are exactly alike. The reality of it is, however, that we all have one thing in common: we are all human. That term can be taken any way one perceives it to be. Literally, each one of us is a physical human being; but digging deeper and grasping the metaphorical term, it means that our human behavior is all relatively similar in one way or another. Every one of us wants to be loved. Every one of us wants to be successful. Every one of us has a way of dealing with excitement, anger, and sadness. Generally, those are the things that every human being has in common with others. There is something else that we all tend to overlook; a common negative quality we all possess. It’s unavoidable, unexplainable, and too complicated for any of us to understand—it’s imperfection.
As close as some people seem to appear when compared to “perfect,” there is no such thing as perfect unless we refer to God. Every one of us has flaws, and the most common one is simply overseeing our neighbor’s imperfections. We fail to admit that we cannot completely accept a person until we’ve accepted their imperfections. Our friends, family, and other loved ones may be some of those that we have accepted in spite of their negative traits. But we flip things around to be on the defensive side to use as a guilt trip on everyone else. “Sorry I’m not perfect.” When someone says that, the majority of the time it’s a defense mechanism. We all do it, we all use it, and we all hate it when it’s used on us. But does it really mean anything? No one is perfect, not just one person. We have to learn to accept that everybody is different, but we also should accept that one thing we all have in common—imperfection.

Picture this:
Someone walks by you… on the street, at work, in school, or in a store. He’s wearing baggy pants, has a bruised eye, wears a hat, piercings everywhere, a couple tattoos, and wearing mostly dark clothes. You examine him up and down, with judgments flooding your mind. He fails to make any eye contact whatsoever, yet you still can’t help but think how unclean this guy is. Piercings, tattoos, messy clothes… Your first impression? –Troublemaker. The black eye? Probably started a fight with someone at.. oh, say.. a bar. People would look down on this man.
Someone once told me “Reserve judgment. Because you don’t know what that person goes home to every single day.” (-Mike Donahue)
Now think about this:
That same someone that passed you on the street, at work, in school, in the store… has finally gotten out of his home for the first time in a few days. He suffered from the black eye because his alcoholic father snapped at him. The piercings represent the pain he inflicts on himself to distract from the pain he feels on the inside on a day to day basis. The clothes are a sign that he feels different. He isn’t happy with his lifestyle. He has no job, and is genetically a violent person. His parents weren’t there for him, and in turn he was never there for anyone else. Instead he cries out for attention but gets none unless is negative attention. No one ever reaches out to him, so he keeps to himself.
Got you thinking yet?
These situations aren’t always this extreme, but nonetheless situations like these are everywhere around us, and we look past it just as we look past a fly on the wall. There are those times when people just like to stand out, to act up, just for the attention.. But assumptions are never a way to get to know a person. Regardless of the situation, or anything in his/her past, everybody has their own issues and their own feelings. All of the problems we face, and we never think to help out a stranger. “I don’t have time.” “I have my own problems to deal with.” Well what if the next time you see a stranger like the man mentioned before, withhold your judgment, and reach out to those in greater need. I’ve always said that the world doesn’t have a pause button to give you time to straighten out your life. It’s not that easy to put the past behind you. But only you are in control of your daily mood. Your feelings. Your pain. Your happiness. A smile to a stranger might brighten up their day. All I ask is that you simply take the time to lend a helping hand to a friend, a family member, or even a stranger. You’d appreciate the gesture done for you

Welcome!

Fri, 23 Oct 2009 05:07:11 +0100

This is my opening blog. Nothing too special here... just an opportunity to get familiar with my site. I hope to keep this updated as much as possible, so feel free to subscribe once it gets going!