Dear Young Paula

The author in me has been quiet for a long time now, and I want to preface this exercise with an explanation. Before I dig into this "letter to myself as a child," you should know why I'm doing it.

The past ten years have been the most difficult decade of my life. Those of you who know me personally know these things already. I suffered some major losses in my family; three immediate family members - a sister and both parents - died in a span of less than five years. As if watching my sister and my mother suffer and pass wasn't enough, watching my dad literally drop in front of me without warning was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. Grief, despair and honestly a lot of fear led to a deep depressive episode that I can say without hesitation was the worst one life has thrown at me.

I withdrew, first from friends, then from family, and finally from myself. It's an alien world when you don't own yourself any longer. Depression owned me. Negative, hateful thought patterns ruled my life. I fought as hard as I knew how, but I couldn't stop it and I eventually gave myself over to it. I thought this was just the reality of my life now. Pain and suffering, grief and sadness, pent-up fury and hopelessness overshadowed everything else.

Long, drawn-out story short, it took a year and a half of therapy to finally begin feeling like myself again. It's not over, only because it's never over for me. But I have been led to a greater understanding of myself, my mind, and my spirit, and I have my personal circle of support that I know I can lean on for help when I feel as though I can't fight it alone.

I tried to be creative during my depressive episode. I knew that it was cathartic and therapeutic and I hoped it would bring me out of the pit. When that didn't happen, my "failure" to pull myself up by my own bootstraps squashed the part of me that I am most connected to. I constantly berated myself for it, which pushed my muse further and further into the darkness until she was cut off from the rest of me. This disconnect on top of my grief and anger shut off my light, so to speak, and I couldn't find my way in the darkness that seemed to go on for an eternity.

But then came the violet sky that signals the onset of dawn. I could just start to make out shadowy shapes emerging from the gloom. Early morning birds began calling, and I could see the tangerine line of daybreak on the horizon of my life. The nocturnal monsters of depression slithered back under their rocks and crawled into their holes, and their torment against my spirit relented.

It was about damn time.

I began exploring other creative sides of myself, testing out things I'd never done before or hadn't tried in years. Through these other outlets, I could feel the writer inside me begin to awaken once again. I'm still slightly hesitant to throw her a welcome back party, but I've been visiting with her a lot lately and I think she's ready to see the sun again.

That leads me to the central purpose of this post: a letter to my younger self. I've seen others embrace this exercise as a part of their healing and an examination of the self. It's also a good creative writing activity, so it has a two birds/one stone aspect to it as well.

So let's get to it.

Dear Paula,

I'm going to tell you some things that, if you will trust me and take them to heart, will save you from a lot of hurt in the future. I know your mother has told you some of these things and you don't believe her, but they are unequivocally 100% true. Listen to them. Learn them. Live them

1. Stop trying to fit in. You are pushing yourself into a space that is not Paula-shaped. You don't need to overthink everything you do and carefully construct every word and every movement to try and make people like you. Some people just won't, and that's okay. That doesn't' make them bad people and it certainly doesn't make you less valuable. It just means that you weren't put in the same place at the same time to help each other along in your journeys. They have other purposes to find, as do you. It's nothing personal. Just accept this and move on.

2. Be yourself. The bonds you will form in life will happen naturally with the right people. They will love you for you, not for who you can pretend to be, and you will love them in the same manner. But the more time you spend wearing masks that you think others will like, the more difficult it will be for these people to find you. Be openly and unapologetically you.

3. Know yourself. There are a lot of things you are not: athletic, fashionable, girly, trendy, or vocally melodic to name a few. I use these examples because I know how desperately you want to be these things. But you are not, and again, that's okay. You are not defined by the things you are not. You have other traits and talents that you will soon discover, and these things will be such an integral part of you that you will wonder how it's possible that you didn't see them sooner. You have already discovered a few of them. Focus on those things. You are creative, funny, compassionate, and insightful, just to kick off the list of things you really are. These are the things that will make you exceptional. I encourage you to try all the new things you want to try. But if you find they are not for you, leave them behind and move on to the next thing.

4. This is one of the most important things I'm going to say, so listen closely. Love yourself. Be kind to yourself. Forgive yourself. You will make mistakes. Everyone does. Your family members and friends make mistakes and you don't love them any less or treat them poorly when they do. Treat yourself the same way you would treat a friend. Pay attention to your internal dialogue and make sure it is kind. If you are telling yourself things that you wouldn't say to a loved one in the same situation, then you need to re-evaluate your self-talk. This is literally the key to your happiness. Putting this into effect now will save you from a lot of inner turmoil in the future.

5. Don't wait for things to happen to you. Make them happen. Work for the things you want and never give up on your dreams.

6. Sometimes chasing your dreams will lead you to places that are outside of your comfort zone. Burst through that self-imposed barrier and keep going.Don't use fear of failure as an excuse.  Be afraid, then do it anyway.

7. You will find the the things you seek. Yes, that's fortune cookie cliche but it's also very literal. If you expect the worst, you will focus on the negative things that happen. That leaves you without the ability to see the positive things in life. Look for the good things, and those are the things you will find. Always look for the good things.

8. Don't be afraid to ask for help when you need it. This is not a weakness. The support of others makes you stronger and increases your potential to help someone else in need.

9. Don't compare yourself to others. Measure your success against yourself. Measuring yourself against other people can too easily start a cycle of inferiority/superiority which leads to jealousy and conceit. Work toward being a better you, not being better than someone else.

10. Always keep fighting. Never give up.

Paula, you deserve to be happy. However, you need to know that happiness is not a constant status, but rather a state of mind. Your happiness is up to you and is not dependent on any other person or suppositional circumstance that may or may not ever happen. Don't wait for happiness to come to you; find it every day. The advice I've given you is designed to help you do that.

You are loved.

Sincerely,

Your Older Self

An Epiphany of Aging

My right eyebrow's inspiration.

I had an epiphany tonight. I am old.

“Pshaw!” you might say. “You are not old! You are only as old as you feel. Age is an attitude.” You would be right, and even after giving those facts extensive deliberation, I am still old. (As a side note, if you really said “Pshaw!” then you are probably old, too.)

In years I am only 38, but middle age has been creeping up on me slowly. First it was my meteorologist knee, the one that can predict a weather shift with more accuracy than NOAA. Quickly following suit was a hip and a wrist, with my back occasionally joining in on the fun. If a storm is brewing, I’m walking like the second guy from the left on the evolutionary chart.

The next sign was my lack of desire to go out. Most people my age are married or otherwise settled down and generally go out as a couple with other couples.  Cougars are only cool if they are hot (oxymoron, anyone?) and in my current physical condition I’m less a cougar and more a domesticated housecat: fat, lazy, and more interested in napping than in playing. I am beginning to believe that I am the female version of Garfield. I hate Mondays, I love good lasagna, and my three most prominent personality traits are sarcasm, cynicism, and obnoxiousness. The entire world is better off if I stay at home.

Tangentially related to my need to stay at home is the intensely burning apathy I feel for my phone. In my younger years I loved talking on the phone, for hours on end. When I got my first internet-ready computer, way back when the 28.8 dial-up modem was top of the line, I had to get two phone lines because I couldn’t risk missing a call. Now I don’t even have a land line and my cell phone is merely a way to send text messages and connect to the internet if I am away from my computer. If my phone actually rings, my first reaction is to groan and roll my eyes. Sometimes I even yell at it. “What? What now? I don’t want to talk to you!” even before I know who is calling. It’s not that I dislike you or even that I have more important things to do; it’s that I simply don’t want to vocalize my thoughts. This is why texting and Facebook were created.

Of course the obvious physical effects of aging are beginning to show up. Failing eyesight, thinning hair, wrinkles, age spots, dry skin, you name it. I understand and accept these things with grace, or at least as much grace as a sarcastic, cynical, obnoxious middle-aged woman can muster. What I don’t accept is that whiskery-type hair that grows in the middle of my right eyebrow. What the hell IS that thing and how did it land in my eyebrow? Did it get lost on its way to Abe Vigoda’s face? Plucking it is an adventure that usually ends with a bald spot in the middle of my brow that is far more noticeable than the single wiry white hair was in the first place. It’s a no-win situation.

Despite all these signs, I still didn’t feel like I was old until tonight’s aforementioned epiphany. So how exactly did that realization come about? While waiting at a red light, I found myself becoming increasingly annoyed with the jackwad behind me playing his stereo at top volume. A few short years ago I would simply have turned my stereo up loud enough to prevent me from having to hear his boom badoom boom, boom badoom boom bass. While the Nicki Minaj reference may score me points in the “Young At Heart” category, what was actually playing on my moderately-volumed speakers wasn’t quite that hip. I was listening to ABBA.

Yep. I’m old.

Okay, so I may not qualify for the senior discount at IHOP just yet, but the way things are going I’m just a hop, skip and a jump away from yelling at you kids to get off my lawn. Or in my case, three short, hunched over shuffle steps away. We must be expecting rain.

12 Extremely Erroneous Comparisons About Popular Music

I’m writing today in response to a blog post that was forwarded to me by my best friend: 12 Extremely Disappointing Facts About Popular Music. The blog, posted about a month ago on Buzz Feed, draws comparisons between Ke$ha and The Beatles, Katy Perry and Michael Jackson, and Billy Ray Cyrus and Bob Marley, among others, and implies that due to sales or chart positions, the former artists of the comparisons are greater than the latter. The author chides the readers for “letting this happen.” But many of his facts are outright false or can qualify as an “apples and cats” comparison.

Creed has sold more records in the US than Jimi Hendrix

Let’s start with the most obvious, and we’ll revisit these two reasons often. First, the population of the US in 1970 was just under 203.4 million. The population of the US in 2000 was just over 281.4 million, a growth of over 78 million people. More people equals more people buying records. Second, music is increasingly easier to come by now, given that a click of a mouse in the comfort of your own home can almost instantaneously deliver a single for about a dollar. These two reasons alone could nullify many of the 12 disappointing facts, or at least provide a logical explanation for why these things have happened.

But what about the actual numbers? According to the Recording Industry Association of America, Creed has certified 25 million record sales and Jimi Hendrix has certified 22.5 million. However, the RIAA tracks certifications of shipped units, not actual sales. Additionally, the RIAA does not track collaborations or performances with other artists, which comprised the first half of Hendrix’s short-lived music career, and they obviously cannot track the tremendous number of re-sales and bootlegged Hendrix recordings that are in existence. Therefore, finding an accurate number of Jimi Hendrix records sold in the US is nearly impossible. Apples and cats.

Led Zeppelin, REM and Depeche Mode have never had a number one single. Rihanna has 10

Rihanna is mainstream pop music. Zep, REM and Depeche Mode were never mainstream pop. Apples and cats. Besides that, the claim as worded by the author is completely erroneous. Depeche Mode had 4 number ones on the US Modern Rock charts and 9 number ones on the US Dance Charts, not to mention the number ones in Italy, Sweden, Germany and other countries. REM has had number ones on the US Mainstream Rock charts and the US Alternative charts. Zeppelin didn’t release many singles in the first place (only 16, compared to Rihanna’s 42) but “Whole Lotta Love” did reach number one in other countries.

If you really want to make a valid comparison, Rihanna has never had a number one album in the US. Zeppelin? Has had SIX. REM has had two. Even Depeche Mode has had one. So even though their singles might not have done all that great in the US, their albums as whole works have charted higher than hers.

Ke$ha’s “Tik-Tok” sold more copies than ANY Beatles single

Pardon me for my tackiness, but who gives a crap about Beatles’ SINGLES? The Beatles were an album band. Fans couldn’t get enough of the Fab Four and went directly for the entire collection rather than a single song. So given the Two Main Reasons, a Ke$ha single has sold more than a Beatles single? Apples and cats, my friend. Consider this: The Beatles’ self-titled album released in 1968 certified over 19 million copies in the US alone, and that’s just ONE of their twelve studio albums. Let’s see Ke$ha pull that one off.

Flo Rida’s “Low” has sold 8 million copies – the same as The Beatles’ “Hey Jude”

See previous paragraph. The only thing this factoid “proves” is that Flo Rida sucks even harder than Ke$ha, and from what I’ve heard, that’s quite an accomplishment.

The Black Eyed Peas’ “I Gotta Feeling” is more popular than any Elvis or Simon & Garfunkel song

More popular according to what standards and criteria? Popularity can be completely subjective. Without any factual information to compare the two, this statement is completely invalid.

Celine Dion’s “Falling Into You” sold more copies than any Queen, Nirvana, or Bruce Springsteen record

Celine Dion is a world-renowned vocalist with a career spanning over 30 years. Most of her music isn’t really my cup of tea, but I hardly think her album sales should make any fan of Springsteen, Nirvana, or Queen feel the need to jump off a bridge. They aren’t even remotely the same genre. The Real World has been on TV for more seasons than ER. You ER fans should be ashamed of yourselves for comparing apples and cats!

Same with Shania Twain’s “Come On Over”

Same argument as the previous paragraph, but minus about thirteen years in the business.

Katy Perry holds the same record as Michael Jackson for most number one singles from an album

Katy Perry had five number one singles from her 2010 album, “Teenage Dream.” Michael Jackson had five number one singles from his 1987 album, “Bad.” On the other hand, “Bad” sold over 8 million copies in the US alone and “Teenage Dream” sold under 2 million. I doubt that Katy will be taking the King of Pop’s place anytime soon. But having said that, Katy does seem to be shooting toward Pop Princess status, so kudos to her.

Barbra Streisand has sold more records (140 million) than Pearl Jam, Johnny Cash, and Tom Petty combined

See also: Celine Dion, but add about 23 years to her career.

People actually bought Billy Ray Cyrus' album “Some Gave All…” 20 million people. More than any Bob Marley album

False. Bob Marley’s “Legend” sold 25 million copies worldwide.

The cast of “Glee” has had more songs chart than the Beatles

This is the most blatant case of apples and cats in the entire article. The cast of “Glee,” while an undoubtedly talented bunch, release several songs available by digital download (see the Two Main Reasons) for every episode aired. However, the vast majority of those songs only chart for one week, all but five are cover songs, and only one ever reached number one; “Gives You Hell” was number one on the Irish Singles Chart. That hardly makes the cast of Glee greater than The Beatles.

This guy exists

(Followed by a picture of Justin Bieber.)

As far as teen idols go, I’d rather my child be a Bieber fan than a fan of Jamie Lynn Spears (pregnant at sixteen) Lindsay Lohan (substance abuse) Paris Hilton (substance abuse, sex tape, no discernible talent) or Britney Spears (just generally bonkers.) At least Bieber is still a good influence, for the time being anyway. Save the Bieber hate for when the scandals hit.

Author’s note: the paternity suit has not been proven and I reserve my judgment until then. Also, my daughter hates Bieber so I’m not simply saying this for her sake. Remember, your generation had embarrassing teen sensations too.

Doctor, Doctor, Give Me the News

Most people can quickly answer the question of best looking celebrity without much hesitation. People Magazine puts out an annual list of most beautiful people and sexiest men/women alive. Even the 90s hit TV show Friends featured a subplot about “the freebie list,” a list of five celebrities with whom you are allowed to act out your wildest fantasies without repercussions from your significant other. People who are mentally stable don’t usually entertain any notions that such a situation would ever arise, so with the exception of creepy stalkers who take things too far, I think a celebrity crush is relatively normal.

Normal as they may be, my personal celebrity crushes have often strayed from the traditional people who normally top the lists. Oh I’ve had my fair share of those, don’t get me wrong. When I was a pre-teen, my bedroom walls were plastered with the face of Michael J. Fox. I knew his birthday, his height, his favorite food (at the time it was linguine with clam sauce – I honestly do remember the strangest things!) and I may or may not have kissed his likeness goodnight a time or two.

In my estimation, Dr. Drew Pinsky is a silver fox, Johnny Depp is beautiful, and Maroon 5’s Adam Levine is easily the finest specimen of a man I have ever laid eyes on. Most people are with me up to this point, even if they don’t share the same opinion. It’s when I reveal that I once pined for Dudley Moore, swooned over Jim Carrey, and wanted to marry John Goodman that I receive chuckles or blank stares in response. I just shrug and laugh. After all, I’m a non-conventional kind of person so why be embarrassed by my non-conventional admirations?

There is one fascination I haven’t fully admitted to though. I hesitated because even for me it seems slightly bizarre. But in the course of a recent conversation with a friend, I learned that there are people who have romantic feelings for inanimate objects. For instance, there is a man out there somewhere who kisses his blue Volkswagen Beetle and a woman who is in love with the Berlin Wall and married to the Eiffel Tower. Given this information, I don’t feel quite so peculiar now. At least the object of my infatuation is human.

Well, not exactly. He’s actually a 900 year old Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey who has two hearts, travels through time and space in a blue phone box, and has the ability to regenerate into a new body in lieu of dying. But he’s portrayed by a human.

For those of you not familiar with the British sci-fi series Doctor Who (specifically the revival that began in 2005) I am referring to the man himself, The Doctor. I don’t simply mean that I am a fan of the show. I think I’ve made that easily obvious to anyone who even vaguely knows me. And I’m not confusing my crush on The Doctor with a crush on the actors who have portrayed him in recent years, although I readily admit that I find David Tennant exceedingly squee-worthy. In fact, I was so dejected when David left the show that it was more than a year and a half after his departure before I would even consider watching episodes with Matt Smith. I finally relented and watched season five, after having re-watched season one with Christopher Eccleston and seasons two through four with David Tennant, AND… That’s when it became clear to me that my interest is in the character rather than the actors themselves.

For those of you questioning my sanity right now, I would like to refer you back to Mrs. Eiffel Tower.

There’s so much to love about The Doctor. For starters, he’s unquestionably brilliant. He’s charming and funny and mysterious (we don’t even know his name – Doctor Who?) He is against violence but is still the most feared being in the entire universe. He has a sonic screwdriver that can do nearly anything. (It doesn’t work on wood. Really?? Wood?) He’s met Shakespeare, Churchill, Queen Victoria, Agatha Christie and Vincent van Gogh. He always saves the maiden from terrifying creatures (prisoner zero, the stone angels, the Vashta Nerada, the empty child and his band of undead, gas-mask-faced mutants searching for their mummies, and the androids dressed in jesters' masks who threatened Madame de Pompadour) and not so terrifying creatures (the Judoon are just rhinoceroses, Sontarans have been compared to talking baked potatoes, and the Daleks appear to be wielding kitchen mixer attachments and toilet plungers as weapons. But I digress.)

I am infatuated with a fictional character.

I know I am not the only person out there who has experienced this. Just this morning on the radio the DJs were discussing the decades-old debate of Mary Ann vs. Ginger, and I know plenty of guys who have mentioned Jessica Rabbit as an object of their fantasies. So fess up. Which fictional character would you put on your freebie list?

Anti-Social Networking

In theory, social networking as a way to connect with friends and expand your social circle is a fantastic idea. Users can share updates and photos, send invitations to special events, ask for help in fund raising efforts, campaign for office, or disseminate a variety of other information to a large group of people all with just a few keystrokes and the click of a button. Recently, news of Osama bin Laden’s death spread like wildfire throughout Facebook and Twitter even before an official announcement was made. But something else has emerged from the digital generation’s inclination to share every thought with the world the instant it occurs. We have discovered that our differences are more important than our similarities.

It can start with something as innocuous as rooting for a favorite sports team.

Go Team A! Beat Team B!

Then, amongst the chorus of Team A fans, a dissenting response appears.

Team A sucks and their fans are so rude!

Suddenly that acquaintance from high school becomes an adversary, not necessarily because of his opinion but because he levied an insult against an entire group of people to which you happen to obviously belong. You become defensive and respond as such, which kicks off a debate littered with insults and unfounded generalizations. The next thing you know, one person has blocked the other and an e-friendship has come to an end.

Or maybe you have among your friends list an associate from work. As weeks go by you notice that she constantly posts a political or religious view that is the polar opposite of yours, and is very critical of those who disagree with her. Several times a week she posts something that ridicules the very core of who you are. Maybe you don’t respond to her posts, but you still begin to look at her differently at work. Every time she smiles and bids you good morning, you remember that just the night before she was calling you a pea brain and suggesting mandatory sterilization so you don’t reproduce. You realize her tirade wasn’t directed at you personally, and she likely doesn’t even know your feelings, but that doesn’t make her words any less insulting.

Both of the above scenarios have happened to people I know, and similar things have happened to me. If you have not yet seen anything comparable on your social networking profile, just wait a while. It’s bound to happen.

If you need further proof just take a look at the comments section of any local news report.

You’re pathetic.

Go jump into heavy traffic.

Your parents must not have loved you enough.

You are a waste of human flesh and oxygen.

These are just a few examples of actual statements I’ve seen today in response to current events stories. While I agree that we are all entitled to our own opinions, and I wholeheartedly encourage people to stand up for their beliefs, it seems that as a society we have lost sight of the most basic primary school lesson: treat others as you wish to be treated. It has reached a point where it is no longer acceptable to voice a differing opinion, even when one refrains from being rude and offensive, as it is more often met with words of anger and derision than with a respectful agreement to disagree respectfully.

Perhaps one of the most unsettling consequences of this trend is that we are behaving this way in full view of our teenagers and young adults, essentially teaching them that it’s okay to mock, belittle and insult those who are different. We are, by our own behavior, encouraging them to perpetuate the “us vs. them” mentality rather than to strive for diplomatic coexistence.

The surest way to corrupt a youth is to instruct him to hold in higher esteem those who think alike than those who think differently.
- Friedrich Nietzsche

Social networking brings our many differences to light and transmits them to potentially thousands of people in a single instant but there is always a way to express our opinions while remaining courteous to those on the other side. Next time your fingers are poised above the keyboard, ask yourself if you are going to broaden the gully or bridge the gap.

An Open Letter to Winter

Dear Winter,

On Christmas Eve of 2009, you assumed the role of Santa Claus and delivered us a load of snow that the weather forecasters proclaimed was a once-in-a-lifetime event. To show our appreciation for having been given a white Christmas, we created a 50 car pileup on I-40 in Oklahoma City just so we could enjoy your generous gift.

Apparently you did not get the message that this was only supposed to happen once in a lifetime, because here it is the very next cold season and you’ve done it once again. I personally spent the two days after your most recent delivery joyfully burrowing through your offerings and counting my blessings with every shovelful. I finally managed to transfer all of your frosty extravagance to appropriate areas of my humble habitat and now I have received word that you plan to return with more in the coming days.

While we certainly admire your aspiration to share your contributions with the world, we would like to request that you tether your excitement. We here in Oklahoma are not accustomed to such luxury and, as such, we find ourselves in a bit of a predicament. Our grocery stores, having been unable to receive scheduled deliveries for a few days, have run out of food. Local residents are left vulnerable without the holy trinity of winter storm food rations: MILKBREADEGGS! We have lost our collective minds at the prospect of another visit from you and it’s only a matter of time before someone is injured by a rogue two-liter soda bottle. It’s all fun and games until a pinky toe gets severed by a madman behind the handle of a grocery cart. Tomorrow is the Super Bowl for crying out loud! We need our snacks!

Additionally, our children, who were just a few days ago ecstatic at the prospect of SNOWDAYS! have begun to go stir-crazy. Their eyes have taken on a somewhat wild look, possibly due to the lack of MILKBREADEGGS! and we fear that they are planning a violent overthrow of the parental governing body. We are not equipped to cope with endless marathons of Spongebob Squarepants and Disney DVDs. Tomorrow is the Super Bowl for crying out loud! We need our televisions back!

We don’t want to seem ungrateful, so we would like to point out that there are other places in the world that are in need of your services. I hear that the polar ice caps are melting. Perhaps if you redirect your efforts in that area of the earth, you can save us from global warming and be forever memorialized as a hero rather than the jackass who ruined Super Bowl XLV for Oklahoma, which, in case you hadn’t heard, is tomorrow night for crying out loud!

We hope that you will seriously consider our petition for leniency, or if nothing else have pity on us, and share your beauty with the penguins and the polar bears rather than the Sooners and the Cowboys. Thank you in advance.

Sincerely,

SNOW-klahoma