Sticks and Stones

Lately, I've been thinking about how much our words hurt each other. I've had the nasty habit of name calling when I get upset. I don't necessarily call Micah a nasty word, but I have been known to say things like, "You're being a jerk," etc. I've learned that this is the same as name calling. It's something I'm working on and have actually improved upon. But back to where I was going before I incriminated myself.

Photo Credit: Google Images                                                                 

I remember being 15 and in high school sitting at lunch with my group of friends. Mostly, these friends were ones I'd made from my church youth group. We'd all grown up together. I guess you could say that we all knew what buttons to push when we were upset with one another. I remember one particular day, one of my guy friends was upset with me. As he stood to put away his tray, he called me a pig. For an average teen girl, that would be bad enough. For me, it was even worse. I mean, it is 15 years later and I STILL remember it. From that day on, I made a vow that I would never again allow another person to see me eat. I figured if somebody wanted to call me a name, it could not be "pig." Silly as this was, I managed to follow through with it for the most part through sophomore year of college. In retrospect, I realize this could almost be classified as a form of an eating disorder. I snuck around and took over the counter trucker speed. I was determined to not be a "pig" ever again. That one little word did so much harm.

Years later, when I was about 26 or so, I was living in Little Rock and working at American Eagle while recovering from one of my heart surgeries. I had dinner plans with a friend, but he asked me to stop downtown so he could run a quick errand first. I obliged, and dropped him off while I parked on the street. One of his friends who was outside leaned into my car window and said, "You're really pretty. You know, for a big girl." No, you know what, I don't know. How is that even a compliment?! Did this individual not think how his words could impact me? Again, that was years ago, but I still remember it. I didn't even know this guy, but it still bothers me. I have no idea why.

Around the same time, I was dating a guy who we'll refer to as "Adam". My relationship with Adam ended shortly after he compared me to a dented can of corn at the grocery store. (When you pick up a can of corn, see that it is dented, then put it back on the shelf and get a regular one. In this scenario, my heart condition was the dent in my can). This guy was clearly an idiot. But for some reason, I still think of myself from time to time as a dented can of food. When I buy canned goods, I always buy the dented ones now. Really, I do. So weird.

I guess I should get to the point of my PSA. Words hurt. We should all think carefully before we let things spew from our mouths, myself included. If for some reason my words have ever hurt you, I encourage you to let me know so that I can seek your forgiveness. Often, things we say can hurt someone as much as punching them. You never really know how long someone will hold onto what you say or how it will impact their lives. So, if you're reading this, then I'm challenging you to speak nicer to those around you. Control your tongue when you're upset. Think before allowing anything to come out. We can work on it together.

I know the tone of this post is a little different from most of my posts. I appreciate the outlet to vent my thoughts, share my experiences, and connect with readers. More light hearted stuff coming soon! :)

A Letter To My Teenage Self

Recently, I've talked to a couple teens who are struggling with the ins and outs of being in high school. I almost caught myself saying what I had heard thousands of times as a teen which was, "Enjoy it now because it is the best time of your life." Actually, it isn't. If you're a teen and reading this, please know that these are definitely not the best times of your life. I know that this is all coming from an ancient source since I'm on the brink of 30 (gah, I still can't believe that one). But you have to trust me on this one, ok? If I could write a letter to high school Courtney and send it back in time, it would go a little something like this....


Teenage Courtney,
Give yourself a break. You think all your peers are judging every aspect of your appearance and every move you make. In reality, they aren't. They're all far too busy being insecure about themselves. That group over there who act like they rule the world because they don't have a zit or extra ten pounds are just putting on a show. Trust me, they are feeling the exact same thing you are when you're getting ready for school each morning. So that boy you've grown up with and who sits at your lunch table called you a pig? You definitely aren't. He just knows what button to push. A good lunch doesn't consist of a Diet Coke and a trucker speed pill (ps: you become a huge advocate for cardiac care by the time you're 25 and are very disappointed in your 16 year old self). 

Be yourself. It's ok to like what you like and not like what everyone else does. Just because the "ring leader" of your group of friends likes something doesn't mean you have to. Develop your own tastes and introduce your peers to new things. While you're at it, stand up for yourself and what you believe is right. Your resolve will be tested many times before graduating high school. Don't cave to be someone you think everyone wants you to be. Stand up. Be the you that you know you are. Trust your gut. It has rarely steered you wrong. 

Your parents aren't so bad. I know they seem really disconnected and unfair a lot of the time. Believe it or not, your mom will one day be your best friend. You'll actually go to her first for advice and have fun hanging out with her. Your dad, well, he'll always be a goofball. But that goofball has always and will always put you above the world. Your parents have their faults like everyone else, but cut them some slack. You sure aren't making things easy for them. Besides, later you'll realize that when times are the worst, your parents will always be by your side. Always. So stop acting like a jerk and spend some time with them while you still live in the same city. 

Question everything you're taught. Just because someone tells you something is fact doesn't mean it is. This goes for teachers in school, church, friends, coworkers, etc. Always be inquisitive. Don't take things at face value. Form your own opinions and beliefs through knowledge and faith. Trusting your gut applies here too. You're a smart girl. Think for yourself. 

You don't have to have it all figured out. In fact, from what I've gathered so far, you may never actually figure it out anyway. 

Not all friendships last forever, but cherish them while you have them. You aren't going to stay close to those you're best friends with now. As you grow up, your decisions will take you to many new places and phases of life. Every friendship you have serves a purpose. Try to look at your relationships with others and see what you can learn from them. Be grateful for these people. You wouldn't be who you are without them even if you drift far away from each other. 

Your life isn't measured by anyone else's. When you're almost 30, you'll still be struggling with this one. Don't compare your achievements or lack thereof to anyone else's. Set your own standards and goals and work hard to reach them. There is no set formula or map for everyone to follow. You chart your own way. So, don't try to follow the map someone else has made for themselves. If you keep that up, you will never know happiness. By the way, it is ok to be proud of yourself. That doesn't make you a bad person. You are working hard and should be proud of your achievements. 

Smile more. It may not seem like much, but it really is. Besides, your parents paid a fortune for that smile. You should show it off. Plus, it scores you a few admirers later in life. 

All my love,
29 years & 10 months Courtney
PS: Maybe 40 year old Courtney will write us to take it easy on turning 30...
PPS: You really should focus on driving when you're behind the wheel. Seriously. No distractions. No acting up. Focus. 

Photo Credit: Pinterest

Crazy Encounters

Throughout my life, especially adulthood, I've had the privilege (read: misfortune) of coming across some very interesting strangers. This past weekend I happened to have two such encounters. I wish I were exaggerating or making this stuff up. Sadly, I'm not. In fact, I could even be playing down the whole thing.

Friday night Micah mentioned us going to dinner and a movie with Ben and two of his friends. The movie they wanted to see didn't much appeal to me. It was something about two guys who do a pub crawl and fight robots. Instead, I opted to see the new funny film "We're the Millers" on my own since it started about the same time as their robot flick. I was a little bit early and was the first one in the theater. I chose my seat and settled in. A few minutes later, a biker clad bald man standing about 6'4" walked into the theater. He looked at me, smiled, and said, "Finally, we're alone." In response, I lightly chuckled and continued browsing my phone. I just assumed he was making a socially awkward joke. In reality, he probably was. But his joke became a bit creepy when he chose a seat right behind me out of the entire empty theater. Finally, others began filing into the theater and I wasn't alone. By the way, the movie was really funny.

Saturday Micah and I journeyed to the great land that is Ikea. I've been in serious need of a dresser. Seriously, most of my clothes stay in laundry baskets after being washed and dried. But I digress. We had a fun afternoon exploring Ikea, window shopping designer stores in Bellevue, and eating dinner at our favorite Seattle restaurant. While Micah wandered into the Apple Store to play with the newest gadgets, I stepped outside to drool over the sparklies at Tiffany & Co and the buttery leathery goods of Gucci. (Sighh..). While window gazing, a lady side stepped beside me and whispered something a bit inaudible. I asked, "Excuse me?". While talking through the side of her mouth, she repeated, "So you the one from Craigslist?". I was a bit shocked. I looked around and everything seemed to be business as usual. I told her no and she looked around as well before disappearing back into the crowds. In retrospect, I wish I had responded, "Are you a cop? You gotta tell me if you're a cop." But witty comebacks for strangers never really hit me on the spot. I don't know what about me says, "I'm shifty." I have no idea what the craigslist ad was for. But with the lady's apparent secrecy, I assume it was not so great. But why meet in such an upscale locale? I'll never know.

Another time, while I lived in Jonesboro, AR attending college at Arkansas State, I lived in an apartment that my friends deemed the "treehouse" because it was basically a crappy wooden building in the trees. We had a dumpster on site for tenants to put their trash. One day, my friend Leslie was helping me clean out the place. She's the best organizer I know. We collected a bag or two of trash and walked them to the dumpster. As I'm throwing the bags in, a man (seemingly homeless) comes from behind the dumpster to say, "Hey baby! I mean, ma'am. I'm crazy!". Yes, that last part could have gone without mentioning. As I turned to seek security in numbers in Leslie, I notice that she as already begun to run back to my front door completely leaving me at the mercy of this lunatic. So, I tossed the bags in the dumpster and quickly followed her back up to the treehouse apartment. Les is a great friend, but if you're ever in a situation with a mentally unstable homeless person, you're on your own.

Lastly, while trying to recount all the insane encounters I've had, I'm reminded of the time I got my hair trimmed and styled before Leslie and Jonathan's engagement party in 2007. My friend at the time who was styling my hair was managing a salon in the mall. As an employee in the mall, I usually used the employee entrance doors to get in instead of using the main mall doors. This time was no different. I went inside, got my hair looking great, and was leaving through the same narrow corridor in which I had entered. In front of me was an employee of Cinnabon (I only know this from her uniform) walking with another woman. I was about ten feet behind them. Suddenly, the woman stopped walking, hiked her right leg, and farted so loudly that it literally echoed off the concrete walls. Stunned, I just stopped mid step in silence and awe. I couldn't believe it. Seconds later, once the shock faded, the stench settled in my throat and airways. I couldn't avoid letting out an audible gag. The Cinnabon girl and the gassy gal turned around to see me. Ms Flatulence apologized repeatedly and only made the bad situation worse by explaining that she had eaten shrimp for lunch. And shrimp "really plays a number" on her gastrointestinal system. I could literally taste that atrocious shrimp fart until I finally made it outside. I know what people released from prison feel like. Fresh air never ever felt so great.

So, really, where do these people come from?! Really? If you're one of them, reevaluate things like social etiquette. I'd be happy to suggest some reading material. And, by the way, if shrimp makes you uncontrollably gassy, order the steak.

 Photo Credit: Google Images                                                             

Instagram!

So, I'm a bit late to the party (sort of), but I'm officially on Instagram. Apparently, I've been on Instagram for over a year, but I haven't been using it or whatever. Now, I've created an active account. Below is a link to follow me if you're interested in seeing whatever photos I happen to post.

Wardrobe Malfunctions & Other Embarrassing Mishaps

So, by now I'm pretty used to embarrassing things happening to me. I don't even really get embarrassed anymore. Everyone makes mistakes or goofs. Stuff happens. No big deal. Still, I think a common courtesy should exist among humans so that when we see that someone else may potentially be embarrassed, we help them out. I know this happens a lot in the south. I try to warn people who have their shirts inside out or are wearing the size sticker on their new pants. Today, I had a doctor's appointment. While waiting to make my follow up appointment, I had to sneeze. It seemed like an average sneeze. No biggie. When it was my turn to talk to the receptionist, I made my appointment and headed downstairs to the pharmacy. The pharmacy was packed (flu season already?!) so I had to sit and wait about half an hour to see the pharmacist. I probably encountered thirty different people while at the pharmacy. I filled my prescriptions and went on my way to my car. As I was buckling the seatbelt, I noticed a HUGE wad of snot and other nasal residue all over my boob. Great. By this time, it had been about 40 minutes since my sneeze. Nobody bothered to point out my grossness just hanging on my chest greeting everyone without my knowledge.

Photo Credit: Google Images                             

I was reminded of the time I was at work at Bath & Body Works during college. All the associates and managers wear headsets to communicate inventory needs or to discuss other arrangements. I was the acting shift leader at the time when I hear somebody say on the headset that a lady had walked in the store showing her rear end. Naturally, there were lots of giggles and I thought my friend Leslie was going to choke. The lady had clearly accidentally tucked her skirt into her underwear after using the restroom or dressing. Where our store was located in the mall, she had to have walked through the busy mall a great deal without anyone telling her about her exposure. So, I took it upon myself to walk up to her and whisper, "Ma'am, I believe your skirt is tucked into your underwear. You can step right back here to fix it if you'd like." I could barely get the words out of my mouth before she turned completely red in embarrassment. Who can blame her? How long had she been shopping like that?! Similarly, in high school, (like most teen girls) my 'monthly visitor' was very random and surprising in her appearances. One day, this visitor decided to drop in without notice in all her glory. I asked to be excused to use the restroom but my teacher told me to wait until class was over in five minutes. That may have been the longest five minutes of my life. As the bell rang, I waited for the class to file out of the room as I slowly stood to make a dash for the restroom. The nearest one was nowhere near my current location. Nobody said a word to me as I made my way through the halls and the maze of students to get to the bathroom. When I finally got there, I turned pale while discovering that my visitor had left her mark ALL OVER the back of my khaki skirt. Nobody warned me! Nobody pulled me to the side or lent me a jacket to tie around my waist. This was even more traumatizing since it was high school, and we all know the high school years are the absolute worst ever. Luckily, the halls cleared out after the tardy bell rang and I was able to go to the office to call my Granny to rescue me.

So, let's all do each other a favor and warn one another about little mishaps that could really embarrass us. Wouldn't you want the same courtesy if roles were reversed?

Photo Credit: Getty Images         

"Excuse me, but you seem to have a thong static clinging to your dress, dear."

EDIT: As I've mentioned, my memory is foggy until otherwise jogged by someone else. Leslie read this post and reminded me of some details. I got the following message:

"I can picture the scene in my mind like it was yesterday. Bandy and I were working the registers and I told you about her over the headset. She was a woman of larger stature, about 300 pounds. When you told her, her entire body turned red. Her legs were even red. She had a bag of stuff that she just left on the floor as she did a 'fix and run' combo move. She didn't say thanks or anything. I went to the back to laugh." - Leslie

Finals

Hey guys. So I'm having quite a lot of fun posting to my blog regularly again. Thank you so much for all the positive feedback. As always, if you remember a story or experience we shared, let me know so I can write about it. My memory is foggy at times, so be sure to email, facebook, or leave a comment reminding me of "hey, that one time...". Unless something major happens, I will not be posting much this week. I have finals for my summer courses. So, I'll most likely be spending any writing time working on papers and test prep. However, I do have jury duty next week. So, I'm pretty sure there'll be something to share with y'all then! :)

Really?! My Top 5 Peevs Right Now

So, I try not to complain much (Micah would most likely disagree), but there are a few things that have been driving me crazy lately. Here's today's top 5:

#5

Photo Credit: Google Images

These "Keep Calm And ..." things have got to stop. Here. Now. Are people really so stressed and worked up that they need to have these signs around reminding them to calm down? I mean, that's why I have a psychiatrist and a Xanax prescription. I think we all know it has gone a little too far when people can put things like "Keep Calm and Eat A Banana" on these signs. I mean when has a banana ever made you think "Ok, keep it together girl. Thanks for saving me, banana,"?! NEVER. I'm pretty sure that has never happened. If it has, then I guess I'm buying the wrong bananas. So how about we try this: everyone just generally try to stay calm. Exercise, meditate, pray, do what works for you. But for the love of all things sacred, please Keep Calm and Make These Signs Go Away.

#4

Photo Credit: Google Images

I'm fairly certain everyone has snored at some point in their lives. It happens. I have no idea why there is such a negative stigma about it. If accused of being a snorer, we automatically fein shock and declare it a down right lie. That being said, it is 2013 and we should have a cure for snoring by now. I can't tell you how many sleepless nights I can blame on my bedmate's snoring. He can't help it. I feel bad for him too because sometimes I think he sounds like he may be dying (or maybe I just hear the little voice in my head telling me to kill him so I can get some quiet). I know sleep apnea machines exist, but we've tried those and they just aren't a solution. Those C-Pap things tether the snorer into one position and wearing a gas mask to sleep is never comfortable. I'm pretty sure those Breathe Right strips are just expensive blackhead removers. Let's get some scientists on this. And while they're at it, ask them why the snoring person always falls asleep first. 

#3

Photo Credit: Google Images

This is an actual photo of I-5 here in Washington. You may be thinking, "Well that's just part of living so close to a few large cities like Seattle and Portland." But I can almost promise you that this traffic (which isn't necessarily at rush hour) is stopped because one motorist accidentally hit a squirrel or raccoon and all the other motorists have stopped to hold a vigil. I cannot tell you how many times I've sat in bumper to bumper traffic only to discover there was absolutely no reason for it. I am sympathetic to high traffic times like rush hour, or car accidents, or breakdowns in the middle of the freeway. I am not sympathetic to the (far more common) officer having a car pulled over wayyy off the shoulder but we all still feel the need to come to a complete stop or the small woodland animal that has been trying to make it across 10 lanes and a median. Where I'm from, you just hit the squirrel and keep going. It happens. Circle of life. Let's work together, y'all. 

#2

Photo Credit: Google Images

So maybe I just have a chip on my shoulder and am blaming too much of the traffic problem on over sensitive nature enthusiasts. But, if my hatred of rat-like things seems irrational, we can blame it on my experience lately with the "pack rat". That little fella may look cute all perched on the tire, but he is sent straight from some car-dealer-Satan to make your car breakdown, spend days at the dealership, and (in my case) lead you into getting a new car all together. It started when I got back home after spending months in Arkansas following my stroke. I had a bird frozen dead to the top of my Toyota Rav 4. Apparently, while I was gone, my car made for an excellent critter home. I had to take it in because a few dash lights came on that I didn't understand. The mechanic called me back to look under the hood and showed me what was apparently a massive rat community. The fools had chewed up all kinds of wires and filters. He asked me if I had been driving and seen a rat head poke out through the air vents. "Of course not!" I said shockingly. I was so shocked because I couldn't believe that the mechanic thought if I had seen a rat poke it's furry head through my vents, I'd be there to tell him about it. I'm about 99% sure that's when my poor heart would finally give out and I'd drive off a cliff. For days afterward, I was terrified to get in my car. I listened for scratching and condo construction under the hood. When the same lights came on 4 days later, I took my car back in. The mechanic showed me where the rats had gotten back in and destroyed his previous work. That was all it took. I was done. I had gone through a lot with that Rav, but it was time we parted ways. I read online that rats "mark" cars and I just knew that car was marked for life. In the end, I went home in a newer, bigger, nicer, rat-free (so far.. I still check weekly to make sure) Toyota Highlander. I'm thinking about training Avery to destroy rats but that seems like a mess I don't want to clean.

#1

Photo Credit; Google Images

My top annoyance right now isn't genuine homeless and/or needy people. If not for the many loved ones I have, I could easily be on the streets right now. Luckily, I have a wonderful family, lots of friends, and many others who would never allow that to happen. For them, I am grateful. I know there are many who are alone and without such a supportive network. It is that population that I am not talking about right now. It is the younger ones holding threatening signs that have me peeved. I was driving home from the pharmacy the other day when I saw a guy about my age or younger. (Truth be told, I'm in denial about my age and think some teens are my age. So really, he could be 15 or 35). He was sitting at the intersection apparently "working" through his lunch break. He was eating & drinking from his bag behind a big cardboard sign that read, "At least I'm not stealing the money from you." He looked like a lazy brat. I made eye contact with him and praise the Lord the light turned green because I was fired up. It actually crossed my mind to pull over and give him a piece of my mind. I should be thankful this fool isn't robbing me?! I wanted to punch him in the face and kick him in his difference then tell him to be thankful that I wasn't killing him. Isn't it the same thing? I can't help but think that if I didn't have my support system and was homeless, I'd use the resources provided in my community through non-profit organizations and such. I just don't understand the need for the threatening signs. I'm not heartless. In fact, Micah has lectured me a few times about helping people who claim to be in need. In the end, the best thing to do is donate money, time, and resources to organizations that help the needy. Don't offer to buy the begging lady at 7-11 a corndog because she's just going to ask for the trucker speed and swear to you her doctors say she needs it for her vitamins (yup, that happened).