Protected: dream continued…

December 17, 2009

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the bride gene (Niffy update)

September 22, 2009

So,
While nothing terribly new has happened–nothing new has been arranged, ordered or booked, we have been brainstorming alot of options for alot of things. Last night, I set my sights on favors and think I may have gotten some good ideas. Ideally, we would like something that says, “thank you for coming and supporting our marriage” but is practical, enjoyable and unique. “Unique” and “wedding” generally aren’t symbiotic but hey, nothing says “no longer living in sin” like hot sauce with a tartan ribbon (just kidding, this is not one of the options…sorry if I disappointed). Anyway, between favors, hairstyles (Dave is a fickle character and can’t put his dreams of tying the knot in a teased out ginger afro out of his head), cakes, cake toppers, djs, ceilidhs etc… I am exhausted. It seems like I am either 100% focused on the wedding or school (honestly, two very fulfilling things to focus one…I actually feel really lucky).
So there you have it: an update!

[center]p.s. Dear Vivienne Westwood, could you please make my wedding dreams come true…just sayin’ ^_^ No, just kidding my wedding dress is perfect but if you could send me an alternative to rhinestone tiaras I would be eternally thankful.

I’ve spent the day pacing the flat, wearing a path from one end to the other. I have this nagging suspicion that I have made a mistake, that I have ventured onto the wrong path. I call it being hyper-self aware but Dave always just says I am crazy. I see my flaws in technicolor, permeating like an aura around my body. I feel like everything I am is a fraud. My aspirations, my past, my present is marred with imperfections and failure–or at least that’s how it feels sometimes.
I am modest but in the sense that I would be more liable to segue from achievements to shame. Uni years spent underachieving, distrust of those who have commended my efforts, and disgust or embarrassment for mis-steps along the way. I worry that this will be my downfall and people will reflect upon my wasted life labeling my experiences as “wasted potential”. This is fear.
I came from an undergrad college where I felt like a small fish engulfed in a huge pond and rather than swim around and find that niche that would grant me belonging–I just sort of became a bottom-feeder. I underachieved and called it humbleness. I was afraid and called it apathy.
So today felt like a day to consider all this and second-guess my life’s work (housed on this hard-drive and not backed-up–“Danger” is my middle name). I need to pull myself together and get to where I am going because my life is so much easier now than it has ever been.
I live a life free of abuse, I have a home, I have food. I am well taken care of and this is my chance to step out and be the person who lives in my dreams.
Not tonight of course but probably tomorrow.

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I do not handle stress well.

September 9, 2009

I am thankful that stress registers at different levels, however. Heart-wrenchingly painful and dire circumstances mean I will not sleep or eat a wink until things are smoothed over a bit, while little bumps in the road generally mean I become highly irritable and cranky. What I am trying to say is that things could always be worse. My current stress? The fact that I have things scheduled everyday next week…this is the first time this has happened for about a year. I am excited, happy and thrilled but I am also anxious, confused and scared. What if I can’t keep up? What if I lost my knack for getting up and going? What if I lag behind a bit? This becomes even more difficult when I remember a. I do not know where my school is, b. I do not know what grad school will be like and c. I am really lazy and stress = me changing a million times before I get the nerve to leave the house.
On a lesser scale, I am also worried about Saturday when I go to try on my might-be wedding dress. See, I picked out a bunch of dresses just to “try on and see” last time I was there and kinda fell in love with 2. Both incredibly different from the other, with one edging out the competition a tad. The one in the lead is a UK size 10, aka the smallest dress in the store that the clerk went out of her way to point out “no one has been able to zip up yet”. Except for me. Yay! Celebration! right? wrong. Now I am scared that everything I eat will go directly to my back where the zipper is located (ignore the fact that we also shoved a sponge down the back to tighten the fit). Oh, the joys of the whole- “body as a warzone” mentality.
Dear body,
I will only put stuff in you (besides coffee) if you promise not to sabotage Saturday. There will be more people there and the last thing I want is to look like the Michelin man in front of my future mother-in-law.

I am endlessly silly.

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this makes me incredibly ill.

September 8, 2009


Since when is this acceptable? Since when do we boo, hiss and jeer when someone stands up to ask a question–regardless of what language it is expressed through or what we understand? I am ashamed of every person in that room and I am ashamed that racism and xenophobia is still being acted out in this day and age.

I was recently accused of being “pseudo intellectual” when I had a dissenting view on what someone had written. This invocation of intellect was as personally irritating as it was troubling. I hadn’t set out to politicize a humorous comment in order to make a larger statement–I spoke from my heart about something that I found deeply unsettling. I believed what I wrote because I lived what I wrote. There is a deterioration of American intellect afoot, and the “i-word” has taken on a nasty meaning. With recent uproar towards President Obama’s comments on education, I am both scratching and hanging my head towards the state of my country. I understand that many harbor fear and dislike towards Obama for many reasons but to get upset when someone suggests personal uplift within our ruggedly individualized culture–America, have you lost your goddamned minds?! I recently had the pleasure of hearing an opinion, which suggested that institutionalized education was inflicted upon our youth too rigidly and too soon. I must disagree on so many levels. I whole-heartedly believe that we need to engage children’s minds from an early age in order to instill confidence and if we can curtail the whole thing by preparing them for a world where even the most concrete things are difficult to grasp–so be it. I may be bias since I aspire to be a public school teacher (clearly, not for the paycheck or respect but simply because I care a tremendous amount about the waning state of academia in America) but I believe that there needs to be a change in the way we view education. Education should not trigger anxiety or alienation in participants, it also should not be viewed as a step towards a paycheck (college, I am looking at you)–it should be viewed as a social tour de force. A moment of self-discovery and passion, education and intellect should bind us all together and allow us to communicate passionately with the only language we have. If we cannot find the words to speak from our heart, then we are silenced–this isn’t about intellect, it’s about the human spirit.

just the girl

September 8, 2009

The intial post is always awkward especially since, as of just now, I am the only one reading my words. This leaves space for me to be as candid as I want but I realize that as exhilarating as this sounds, it’s potentially dangerous. We live in an increasingly public world and what I write here today can’t be anything I wouldn’t want to shout from the rooftops. So, here goes. 

I am Jennifer, also known as Niffy (it’s a college nickname thing–a nice alternative to Jen(n), Jenny and the like). I am currently 25 but still holding tight to 16. I read once that as long as you always dress like a 16 year old boy, no one will think you are “old”–I guess I prescribe to this. I am a Pisces though I don’t know how much this actually says about me. I was a child of alcoholics though I don’t know how much this actually says about me either–though I am sure it speaks volumes. I am currently undertaking wedding planning and navigating Postgrad education, I feel alien towards both. I hate awkward silences and fill them with even more awkward conversation. I shoot from the hip on most things and sometimes pull a bull’s eye but most times miss the point entirely. I have a horrible memory for the good stuff but I never forget the bad things–it’s a curse. 

I’m also not very pretty, so figure this narrative with all this in mind.