Avoidance

Ah. Inspirational quotations. I hate the ones that are like "Getting up the hill is half the battle," blah blah blah. I rarely put myself in the situation where I am getting up the proverbial hill.

Most of my life, I've had this habit of quitting things when they are challenging...or simply avoiding them. Case in point: college. Despite going to a tiny private college that didn't exactly have tons of literature offerings for an English major, I somehow managed to avoid Victorian Lit and Medieval Lit. Did everything I could to make sure I didn't take those courses. Second example: quitting clarinet when we got to the high notes. I had played the instrument in upper elementary school and it was pretty easy (also part of the reason I chose the clarinet: rumors of its easiness). Once middle school hit and we had to play the high notes, bam, I was out the door.

I am taking a Research Methods class now and avoidance is not a possibility. Honestly though, the whole talk of significant research, p values, t tests, and standard deviations. It makes no sense to me. I feel like an absolute idiot. It's incredibly frustrating....because...damn... I can't quit the class. Well.. I could but...

Another thing is my lack of financial knowledge. I know credit cards screw you but I simply pay the whole bill each month and avoid the whole "screwing" issue. But I don't know a thing about APR, interest, etc. Now it's time for us to do income taxes and I'd like to try them on my own (usually pay an accountant for an income tax return that people tell me is simple) but am afraid I will mess it up.

Yes... now indeed that would be hilarious. The IRS coming to arrest the teacher and retail manager in their meager one bedroom apartment.

Pseudo Genetics

When I look at my wedding photos, I see a strong resemblance between my mother and me. I definitely have her eyes. My smile looks exactly like her smile when she was my age-- cheeks slightly protruding, eyes crinkling, and mouth widely smiling.

Some people in my family have said I resemble my father. I don't really see it. I definitely have his hair --- thick --- it takes an eternity to dry. Other than that, I don't see any resemblances.

It saddens me. If I looked like him, I could feel that there was a part of him within me -- basically every time I looked in the mirror.

Although I didn't know my father too long before he passed away, there's certain personality/ non-genetic traits of his that I like to think I somehow "inherited."

My mom talks about how my dad used to go to garage sales and flea markets all the time. When he passed away, apparently the basement was filled with "junk"-- my mother's words, not mine.

Somehow I think the concept of someone's "trash" being another's "treasure" has been passed down to me. I love going to garage sales, flea markets, and thrift shops. While some people consider buying things from those places as buying "used" stuff, I think it's almost a sharing experience. Case in point: I love buying a used book and seeing the lines that someone else highlighted, or the notes that were written in the margin. Sometimes when I see the highlighted lines, I ask, "Why? What's so important" and...

sometimes...even better... I say, "Yeah, I'd highlight that too."