For a certain demographic, I could see how the question "to be or not to be," would be a relevant one (the list including murderers and suicidal individuals alike). For the rest of us however, it would not be a question we'd ever have to wrestle with. Easy; to be, please and thank you! I would have to argue that the greater question plaguing mankind today is, to emoticon or not to emoticon? You know what I'm talking about, those textual emotions aiding in expressing our mood or tone without words (e.g. :) :'( :p , and so forth).
I admit, there are individuals who wouldn't wrestle with whether to emoticon or not. Those who readily and frequently add emoticons, and those who strongly oppose using any ever. I split them into two categories, those who own kitten posters that state, "You're pawfect just the way you are, " and those who don't.
For the majority of us, the inner battle wages on. Should a winking face be added to our text, so whoever reads it knows we're joking but risk looking like a 13 y/o girl who likes to dot her 'I's' with hearts, or, should it not be added, risking being misunderstood but coming away with our dignity and self respect intact?
I'm a fairly sarcastic person. Alright, a very sarcastic person, so there was no opinion on the matter, emoticons would have to become my fast friend. Over time I've become more comfortable using them, but from time to time, I'll run across an "emoticon hater" and suddenly feel ashamed, questioning myself "Who am I and what have I become?" Once my self indulgent meltdown was over, my heart would extend to the e-hater, questioning them, were you not hugged as a child?! Do you secretly wuv kitten posters, but aren't ready to face the water works once the door to your heart is opened?
Here are things to think about; emoticons show no partiality to race, language or gender. They help translate our intent with just a wink or a tongue extension. They are wonderful tools when used moderately and appropriately, but used too much and their purpose loses it's meaning. Remember, with great power comes great responsibility, so, emoticon responsibly!
Oh, and with the matter of Hamlet, Shakespeare could have lightened the mood up a whole lot with just a few emoticons. Doom and gloom, doom and gloom get's old pretty quick. ;-)
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Surprisingly Normal-ish
Has anyone ever struggled with their identity? The, "who am I" or "who am I going to be?" Sure, who hasn't, but has anyone struggled with the identity others have placed on them? Well, this just happens to be the story of my life. Now, hold on, before you let your eyes make a complete roll, let me set the record straight, this isn't a "poor little old me" post. It's a "watch-me-pat-myself-on-the-back-I-turned-out-surprisingly-OK-considering-all-the-hardship-my-childhood-withstood" post (OK, now you can finish rolling your eyes). I'll share my story with you and let you decide if I should be worse for wear.
It was the happiest day of my mothers life. She found out that she was pregnant, again, with her fourth child (Enter, me). Her picture perfect family with two kids had blurred over the years into double vision. She must have been feeling twice as lucky. However, my brother, on the other hand, was ticked. Another sister?! Life was indeed cruel, but it wasn't unkind, for his brand new baby sister turned out to be simply adorable! Me being born, would not have been my mother's or brother's first choice. They probably would've rather eaten a ketchup popsicle while wearing white gloves (oh, the horror!), but they weren't given that option and instead were stuck with me, but boy did I win them over! I don't know how, but I'm sure I did. My sisters, well, they were just glad to have me to look up to them. Oh, we got along great, and we have scars to prove it.
From around ages four to eight (and for many of my teenage years) I sported a very short bowl cut, confusing the elderly and school photographers alike as to the true identity of my gender. "I am not a boy", I would always add after my, "hello." That was the beginning of a trend in my life, adding an amendment to my perceived identity. "Hello, I didn't fail a grade, my parents just happened to put me into grade one, at the age of 8, because any sooner would've been considered child abuse", and "Hello, I'm not searching for my identity by dying my hair a different colour every month, it's just fun. And the chemicals in the dye help me telepathically communicate with Santa Claus", and "Hello, I'm not a snob, I'm just socially awkward from time to time", and "Hello, I'm not a lesbian just because I have short hair and won't date guys in my grade" (.....wait, I'm not?! It is a pretty convincing case, I admit, except for the part where I was extremely boy crazy), and "Hello, I'm not mentally challenged, God just happened to make me very special", and, finally, the one I shall never live down. It will be the bane of my existence, robbing me of my God given right to have my own identity, "Hello, I'm not who you think I am, no, I'm not Tania. She's my sister. No, we're not twins. Yes, we talk the same. Yes, you're right, I am the prettier one".
There you have it. These misconceptions may not be who I am, but they've shaped me into the person I am today, slightly insecure and neurotic, but mostly all right with people perceiving me differently than I do. From this point on (with much counseling), I'm sure I'll be able to coast into my golden years mostly unscathed, or at least I'll die trying! What's that? You never pegged me as the fighting to the death kind of gal? Well, I'm not here to try and change your mind, you'll have to think what you will! But you might just wanna watch your back.
It was the happiest day of my mothers life. She found out that she was pregnant, again, with her fourth child (Enter, me). Her picture perfect family with two kids had blurred over the years into double vision. She must have been feeling twice as lucky. However, my brother, on the other hand, was ticked. Another sister?! Life was indeed cruel, but it wasn't unkind, for his brand new baby sister turned out to be simply adorable! Me being born, would not have been my mother's or brother's first choice. They probably would've rather eaten a ketchup popsicle while wearing white gloves (oh, the horror!), but they weren't given that option and instead were stuck with me, but boy did I win them over! I don't know how, but I'm sure I did. My sisters, well, they were just glad to have me to look up to them. Oh, we got along great, and we have scars to prove it.
From around ages four to eight (and for many of my teenage years) I sported a very short bowl cut, confusing the elderly and school photographers alike as to the true identity of my gender. "I am not a boy", I would always add after my, "hello." That was the beginning of a trend in my life, adding an amendment to my perceived identity. "Hello, I didn't fail a grade, my parents just happened to put me into grade one, at the age of 8, because any sooner would've been considered child abuse", and "Hello, I'm not searching for my identity by dying my hair a different colour every month, it's just fun. And the chemicals in the dye help me telepathically communicate with Santa Claus", and "Hello, I'm not a snob, I'm just socially awkward from time to time", and "Hello, I'm not a lesbian just because I have short hair and won't date guys in my grade" (.....wait, I'm not?! It is a pretty convincing case, I admit, except for the part where I was extremely boy crazy), and "Hello, I'm not mentally challenged, God just happened to make me very special", and, finally, the one I shall never live down. It will be the bane of my existence, robbing me of my God given right to have my own identity, "Hello, I'm not who you think I am, no, I'm not Tania. She's my sister. No, we're not twins. Yes, we talk the same. Yes, you're right, I am the prettier one".
There you have it. These misconceptions may not be who I am, but they've shaped me into the person I am today, slightly insecure and neurotic, but mostly all right with people perceiving me differently than I do. From this point on (with much counseling), I'm sure I'll be able to coast into my golden years mostly unscathed, or at least I'll die trying! What's that? You never pegged me as the fighting to the death kind of gal? Well, I'm not here to try and change your mind, you'll have to think what you will! But you might just wanna watch your back.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Is Selflessness Possible?
I've been coining around this idea of altruism, in my mind for a while now and feel it's time to cash in. Keep your pennies, because these thoughts are for free! (So selfless of me.)
You've heard it said, "It is better to give than to receive", and have been told that for true peace and happiness we should think of others first. I'm not here to disagree with this philosophy. In fact, I think it's true. Thinking of others does make us feel pretty darn good and makes this world a better place to live in. Now, I know I'm not the first to think this up, neither will I be the last, but is there truly such a thing as a selfless act? Some of us have the ability to put others first more than others, but does that make the “least selfish” persons motives selfless?
There are different motivating factors behind why we do the things we do. Some are motivated by obligation, by love, or by personal gain, but does it matter the motivation or intent? Is it not still for selfish reasons? Before, you jump all over me, let me explain myself, hopefully a little better.
We’ve been taught morally that it’s not right to think of ourselves, that we should put the needs of others first, doing it without praise or reward. But in the same breath, if you were raised in a Christian home, like I was, our selfish nature is still appeased by the thought of an ultimate reward from God. We were taught we should not do it for those reasons, but in the back of our minds we knew our martyrdom wouldn’t be for not. Also, we were taught that loving others reaps rewards for everyone, thus giving us fuzzy feelings of having done the right thing. I would say that’s fairly selfish.
You may say, but what about the selfless act of a mother dying in place of her child, or an officer jumping on a grenade to save his platoon from certain death? Very noble and an act that most of us would not be willing to do. I politely and respectfully say, (keeping in mind that these types of acts should be honored and no slander to anyone who has sacrificed their lives for others are intended) I don’t think it is entirely selfless. Depending on your definition of selfish. Is it selfish to do something to fulfill a personal desire or ideal? To be able to live with ourselves knowing we did the right thing? I may be stretching it a bit here, I realize. I’m not saying there’s any evil intent involved in these types of acts or a desire of praise, just that maybe we are unable to separate ourselves from the motives of our actions, it always relates back to a selfish desire to fulfilling the needs of obligation or devotion.
I don’t have an ultimate answer here, just the willingness to throw the thought around and see where it lands. What are your thoughts on the matter?
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Adequate Barista Coffee Service, Oh Where For Art Thou?
Lately the java gods have not been smiling down upon us. Now it could be that I am getting ornery in my old age, but in this case I don't think so. There is a coffee shop Jason and I often frequent (and when I say 'often' I mean everyday). Yes, yes, I've crunched the numbers all you penny pinching math wizards out there. Let's just say I'd be willing to pay up to double, my husband triple the amount not to have to wake up to my crappily brewed cup of coffee everyday, this however is a different topic for another post. Now, the service at this certain nameless coffee shop has been less than ideal and down right agonizing, and let me tell you, my standards are not all that high. Seriously.
These are my expectations on how I think it all should go down. I want to walk in, wait up to 7 min to reach the till, place my drip coffee order, pay, be asked if I want room for cream, and yadda, yadda, yadda, be out the door happily drinking my highly addictive java juice, well within 10min. No fuss no muss.
Let me clarify one thing, all is fair in love and war when a trainee is on post, benevolence becomes my middle name. Take your time! Let the craft be learned! Punch those numbers into your cash register as slow as you want. I'm sure it's confusing! What's that? You charged my card $8.57 for a latte and a drip? But now you're giving it to me for free and giving me a free drink order next time I come in?! Benevolence 'R' Us!
Tell me though, how long are you expected to extend the olive branch to any particular trainee before you whack off the leaves and use it as a prodder? Does two, three months, sound fair? It has been that and then some with one particular Barista. Bless her soul, she is as sweet as the caramel macchiato she serves up, but if she could get through two orders in 10 mins she'd be breaking a personal record. I would take horrible interpersonal skills over someone remembering my name or asking me the proverbial forecast of my day, any day of the week, if it meant getting my coffee faster.
Now before you start to think it is me and not the service, let me point out that there have been many fed up customers leaving the store before they reached the till. Grumbling souls wanting nothing more than a morning coffee before it turns into an afternoon tea. Jason has had to wait time and again because they didn't even have coffee brewed. A coffee shop not ready to sell coffee?! If I didn't take my coffee so seriously, I'd be laughing hysterically right now. Needless to say we have pulled up our coffee sleeves and changed locale. By the way, this coffee company's motto happens to be 'legendary service'. Well let me tell you, mission accomplished, mission accomplie!
Cheers to a better brew experience, and for no man having to wait for his coffee longer than it takes to say, double ristretto venti nonfat organic chocolate brownie frappuccino extra hot with foam and whipped cream upside down double blended!
These are my expectations on how I think it all should go down. I want to walk in, wait up to 7 min to reach the till, place my drip coffee order, pay, be asked if I want room for cream, and yadda, yadda, yadda, be out the door happily drinking my highly addictive java juice, well within 10min. No fuss no muss.
Let me clarify one thing, all is fair in love and war when a trainee is on post, benevolence becomes my middle name. Take your time! Let the craft be learned! Punch those numbers into your cash register as slow as you want. I'm sure it's confusing! What's that? You charged my card $8.57 for a latte and a drip? But now you're giving it to me for free and giving me a free drink order next time I come in?! Benevolence 'R' Us!
Tell me though, how long are you expected to extend the olive branch to any particular trainee before you whack off the leaves and use it as a prodder? Does two, three months, sound fair? It has been that and then some with one particular Barista. Bless her soul, she is as sweet as the caramel macchiato she serves up, but if she could get through two orders in 10 mins she'd be breaking a personal record. I would take horrible interpersonal skills over someone remembering my name or asking me the proverbial forecast of my day, any day of the week, if it meant getting my coffee faster.
Now before you start to think it is me and not the service, let me point out that there have been many fed up customers leaving the store before they reached the till. Grumbling souls wanting nothing more than a morning coffee before it turns into an afternoon tea. Jason has had to wait time and again because they didn't even have coffee brewed. A coffee shop not ready to sell coffee?! If I didn't take my coffee so seriously, I'd be laughing hysterically right now. Needless to say we have pulled up our coffee sleeves and changed locale. By the way, this coffee company's motto happens to be 'legendary service'. Well let me tell you, mission accomplished, mission accomplie!
Cheers to a better brew experience, and for no man having to wait for his coffee longer than it takes to say, double ristretto venti nonfat organic chocolate brownie frappuccino extra hot with foam and whipped cream upside down double blended!
Start Your Engines....
All aboard! Step on up, take a seat and make yourself comfortable. It's this little bloggers very first trip down the wobbly blogging tracks. So, understandably, not much can be guaranteed on the enjoyment of this ride. However, this little blogger can promise you a few things. Firstly, not to talk in the third person the entire time. Secondly, not to make constant analogies to trains, tracks or cute conductors*. (*amendments to the latter may change without warning.) And thirdly, to embarrass and expose my caboose as often and as much as possible.....with my clothing on, to clarify. Sorry to disappoint.
All right, so, you may be asking, what is the purpose of this blog? Well, in a nutshell, it's a way for me to find my voice and see where it could possibly take me as a career. Now calm down, I realize how exciting all this is turning out to be and how NOT self-indulgent it is. Here's the scoop, I've been thinking about writing for awhile now, which, if you know me, is rather an interesting undertaking, for I am sure, to very sure, this sentence I am writing at this very moment is a run-on sentence, with approx. 3.2 spelling mistakes and I'm not sure if I should start a new paragraph once I've stopped. (thinking) (continuing) Well, here I am, and it's time to stop thinking and start chugging up that hill of insecurity, chanting, "I think I can, I think I can!" With my determination and your patience we can make it to the top, where the views are bound to be much better than they are here.
Three whistle blows and we're off. No turning back. Chug on little engine, chug the freak on!.........I hope no one needs to use the washroom.........Darn it, I do! Stop the train! STOP THE TRAIN!!!
All right, so, you may be asking, what is the purpose of this blog? Well, in a nutshell, it's a way for me to find my voice and see where it could possibly take me as a career. Now calm down, I realize how exciting all this is turning out to be and how NOT self-indulgent it is. Here's the scoop, I've been thinking about writing for awhile now, which, if you know me, is rather an interesting undertaking, for I am sure, to very sure, this sentence I am writing at this very moment is a run-on sentence, with approx. 3.2 spelling mistakes and I'm not sure if I should start a new paragraph once I've stopped. (thinking) (continuing) Well, here I am, and it's time to stop thinking and start chugging up that hill of insecurity, chanting, "I think I can, I think I can!" With my determination and your patience we can make it to the top, where the views are bound to be much better than they are here.
Three whistle blows and we're off. No turning back. Chug on little engine, chug the freak on!.........I hope no one needs to use the washroom.........Darn it, I do! Stop the train! STOP THE TRAIN!!!
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