Truth.

I’ve been rereading one of my favorite books and came across a line spoken right after a character had to make a tough decision:
“Hardest thing I ever did … So now I suppose I can do the second hardest thing.”

That sort of thing has been on my mind lately.  Since Christmas specifically, when I did the hardest thing I’ve ever done.  I finally told my mom that, as a little girl, I was molested.  (Hey, hey, now the second hardest thing can be checked off my list!)  I’ve only told 3 or 4 people that in my life.  If you aren’t one of those people, it probably still didn’t surprise you all that much.  When I finally told my mom she said she had figured something like that had happened, but that she wished I had told her long ago.  Me too.  It felt so good to get that off my chest, which is also the reason I’m doing it now.  I’m tired of holding things in.  I don’t want to do it anymore.  So here’s a veritable Truth-Day-Free-For-All.

I was abused twice, one time I cannot remember except for incredibly vague details.  I’ve tried to remember it, but start shaking and crying.  So I’ve stopped trying.  I was 9 and 12.  First time was in school, in a girl’s bathroom.  Second was in a summer Bible camp, of all places.  Both times were boys in my age group.  I have had and continue to have some pretty deep-seated trust issues when it comes to men.  (I’m sure that’s a big shock for you all.  “Teri?  Trust issues?  No!”)

So there’s that.  If I can blog about that, there’s really nothing I can’t blog about.  For example, I was suicidal my sophomore year of college.  And the only reason that I didn’t kill myself is because I couldn’t.  I had no car and was living on the second floor of a small, Christian college dormitory.  I had no access to pills or weapons.  That is the lowest point at which I’ve ever been–not wanting to live anymore but unable to kill myself.  I had gone through several months of heavy depression and pushed away all of my friends (or tried to).  I almost lost my friendships with Tim and Steph, two of the most important people in my life, back then and today.   Unfortunately, I lost some other friends irrevocably.  I regret some of those.

Thirdly, I am a little racist.  I try not to be.  Hell, Steph is one of my best friends, and she’s half-Black.  I blame a lot of this on working at the hotel, where I was not exposed to the best examples of humanity.  And I think another part of it is that it’s a culture I am not a part of, and therefore have trouble understanding.  Not all, but the majority of Black men intimidate me.  Frighten me, might be more appropriate a statement.  That is unfortunate for many reasons, one of which being I have certain physical attributes that they seem to find very appealing.

Fourthly, I haven’t been going to church, because I don’t want to go to church.  I hate all the pretense involved.  I’m sure some of this might be “self-fulfilled prophecies” because I felt I needed to put on a pretense around church-people, but I don’t think I can take all the blame for this one.  I can understand why the world mocks them.  I’m one of them, and I mock them.  Living in legalistic little bubbles, surrounded by an air of holier-than-thou perfection.  Can we just get a bunch together and say, “Man, we’re all seriously fucked up,” and then just take it from there?  I would love that.  I think some of my dislike toward the “bubble people” stems from jealousy.  I am jealous at their ability to live in this bubble, or see the world through rose-colored glasses, or however you want to phrase it.  I’m jealous because I can’t do it.

Damn, I feel better.

I know he’s a fictional character and blahblahblah, but I am hopelessly in love with Jim Halpert from The Office.  He’s hilarious with all his pranks and has that boy-next-door-cute thing going on rather than a hit-you-over-the-head-with-hotness thing which, in my book, is preferable.  Do you suppose it’s possible to add a fictional character to “The List”?  It’s not like it lessens its realism or anything–the odds of my sleeping with Michael Vartan are probably pretty comparable to those of my sleeping with Jim Halpert.  I’ve accepted this.

List 6 facts about yourself:

1. I have no concept of time and/or pasta.  Know that anytime I give you a time for something (e.g. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” or “Oh, that will only take five minutes.”) you should probably double it.  At least.  I also cook way too much pasta at any given time.  This is slightly less bothersome to others, however, than having no concept of time.

2. I don’t take compliments well.  I don’t know how to receive them, and usually ignore them or offer an awkward “thank you” and run off.  A guy at work has recently nicknamed me “Beautiful” and greets me this way every morning.  I have no idea how to respond to this–so I don’t.

3. I can’t watch shows about animals.  If ever Tim and I were to get cable, I’d ask for a parental block-type situation on the Animal Planet channel.  I used to watch shows like Pet Hospital (or whatever it was called) and just burst into tears.  Those things would leave me depressed for the entire day.  I will cry when reading new stories or even fictional stories about animals being hurt or mistreated.  Just this morning I was searching for a new credit card and I found some that will donate a percentage of your spendings to the ASPCA and I got a little teary, thinking of those animals I could help.  I’m getting a little teary right here just talking about it.  Gah, moving on…

4. I am fascinated by war.  Most specifically WWII.  I enjoy reading about it, watching movies or documentaries about it, visiting museum exhibits about it, etc.  I couldn’t tell you why–I just like learning the whys behind it or the heroic acts during it.  This interest does not extend to any of the wars after WWII, however.  I have never taken the time to sit down and really think about it, but I think that perhaps it has something to do with our modernized warfare.  The creation of the atomic bomb changed the face of war.  Or perhaps recent wars seem a little less purposeful.  Korea, Vietnam, Somolia, and now Iraq.  With WWII there was a very clear and definite why to the war.  But like I said, I haven’t really thought about it.

5.  I have always been a writer.  There was a period of several years after college when I completely gave up writing.  In all truthfulness, I never started considered writing as a serious pursuit until just a couple years ago.  It was always more of a leisure activity.  But this week I was packing and cleaning and came across a large portfolio of scripts, stories, poems, newspaper articles, short stories, and plays that I had written.  It dated all the way back to junior high school so the quality of the work wasn’t necessarily the greatest, but the sheer volume of it was what got to me.  I thought, “How could I have ever doubted what I should do with myself?”  I have a stack of humorous newsletters that I created, co-wrote, and distributed to my friends for two years in high school just for the sheer fun of it.  Never once did it occur to me that most people don’t do things like that.

6. I like an N*Sync song.  If we’re being completely honest, I should probably go ahead and say that I like two.  “Bye Bye Bye” is just so darn catchy.  I also like the song “Would You Be My Girlfriend” despite the fact that Nelly is in it, and despite the fact that he is wearing a band-aid on his face.

So it’s nearly summer and I’m still at the hotel.  That is very depressing.  A coworker (the male one from my previous post) was helping me revamp my resume but that all went out the window when he decided to become a pendejo.  

I like swearing in Spanish.

Random Teri Fact:  I watch Dancing with the Stars.  I just can’t help myself.  I catch an episode or two when I can on ABC’s website and find myself really enjoying it.  I’ve always loved dancing.  I felt the need to keep this fact about myself closeted but there it is, right out in the open for the entire world to see.  Teri watches Dancing with the Stars.  (And hopes that Apolo guy wins.)

Time for bed.  Tengo sueňo.

Happy December First!  November wimped out a little there toward the end, but December showed up with no mercy.  I had planned on taking my sorry self to Target for some much needed groceries, but the idea of pulling a cart laden with foodstuffs through nearly half a foot of snow is not appealing at all.  Dang it, I should make myself go.  Go, Teri, go.

I also need to buy a cocktail dress sometime this month.  FACT: Teri has never bought a dress, cocktail or otherwise.  I own one dress that I had to wear in a wedding that is very light blue.  I need a dress for the formal dinner on the cruise ship.  I tried to explain to Tim how a light blue dress would not work for a formal dinner party, but he did not get it.  In the end, I likened it to him wearing a tuxedo shirt and jacket over Bermuda shorts.  I think I made my point.

With my crazy sleep/work schedule, I haven’t been able to regularly attend church–something that has been bothering me lately.  But, ah, the wonders of technology.  I found a church in Chicago, the Church of Wrigleyville, and am downloading their weekly podcasts.  I am excited to at least be getting some form of church.  Not having to dress up for it is an added bonus. 

This year’s work Christmas party is December 10th.  Now last year, as you’ll remember, I won no money.  I asked everyone to wish me luck and I blame all of you for the lack thereof.   This year I want to see some serious luck-wishing.  Thank you.

Okay, okay.  I’m going to Target.