Facing the Facts

Though it has been many months since I've updated, I must confess that I've come to face a few facts that have led to both wonderful and astonishing revelations. Now though these facts are quite numerous, I think I've narrowed them down to three overall points.
Fact number one: I'm horrible at living up to my blogging expectations. This is not to say that I'm not at the least bit surprised by this fact, I suppose you could say I was hoping for some reassurance that I would defy this becoming truth. Simply put, my life has been a roller coaster. As lame and uncreative the metaphor may be, it's never been more real. The last few months of my life has had crazy ups and downs, twists and turns, dips and bumps. It is through this very roller coaster that I've come to personal discoveries that will be outlined in future blogs.
Fact number two: Grad school is a bitch. This goes without saying. It was in mid semester that I had to stop and seriously question if someone was playing a rather cruel joke on me. I can recall several instances where I've heard people say, "No worries! Grad school is much easier than undergrad, in my opinion!" or "Grad school felt like a complete joke. It's easy!" It is in all of this garble that I learned that people fail to tell you about the intense research, pages upon pages of required reading, and the obscene writing assignments. In all honesty, I even feel more financially crippled than I did in undergrad. If I ever face these very people again, all I have to ask is, "What in the hell were you people smoking, and may I have some it?" Seriously, between all of reading and writing, it's almost--well scratch almost-- it's a fact that in little moments of rest I was able to grasp, all I wanted to do was hang out with friends, relax, and have as much fun in my own right. Any and everything affiliated with typing composition and reading, I wanted to avoid as much as possible. My dear readers, this is but a rather sad fact considering that I obtained a degree in English and rather found myself to be a lover of literature. I still think there is an immense part of me that craves a good book. There were many days in the fall semester that I wanted to update my blog to scream out my feelings and write out my experiences in a vivid fashion. I lost my blogging spirit here in my first semester of undergrad, but I'd like to think that I can redeem myself through a little thing I like to call time management and caffeine.
So, I would like to end this blog with one last fact.
Fact number three: I must surrender myself to the arduous task of time management. I recall purchasing my medium size, black agenda book back before the winter weather made my life rather chilly and complicated. Though I have been known to write down a task, or two I see how novice my planning really was. I've come to learn that if I'm expected to achieve even more success and conquer the war called graduate school, I've got to supersede such minuscule effort. Again, it's with great uncertainty that I believe I'll never truly face this fact, but I know it's necessary. As this blog is my therapy and life, so is my education, family, and friends. I look forward to updating one and all about the pivotal points of last semester--all of the rises and falls, disappointments and joys, as well as the losses and gains. So here goes, my life measured by time, caffeine, and shreds of patience.

Man vs Technology/Machine

As I had alluded to, the conflict I faced with my friend caused me to do a lot of soul searching. In the middle of all the confusion and mayhem, I also was stressed out about a couple of parties I wanted to plan for my birthday--I ultimately wanted to have a fantastic birthday eleganza extravagza weekend.

Let me take you back a good month before my life succumbed to such confusion--when the biggest worry I had wasn't about discerning where I stand in both my friendships with Bill and my opinionated best friend, instead it was over finding a venue to celebrate my 24th birthday with my friends and family. In downtown Chattanooga I knew I found the perfect spot. It was off of Market Street, near all the night life at which I wanted to pour myself into, or at the very least, have a ice cold, fruity, sweet beverage poured for me.
After finding my venue, the next battle I had to conquer was finding the perfect dress. Because I was venturing into my mid-twenties, I knew I had to make an appearance in something that not only celebrated my age, personality, and heighten self-esteem, but something that also honored my successes, such as obtaining my undergraduate degree, losing weight, and starting a new phase in my life--obtaining my master's. Who knew that an outfit could do so much? Simply put, I wanted to wear an outfit that made me feel like me. Although I was apprehensive about the future because of the changes I was facing, I felt like I was on top of the world--like everything was coming together.
Once the idea and excitement of the party and shopping became overtly tangible, I typed out my invitations and sent them via Facebook. I knew that I would have no issues getting the support and attendance I needed. As the summer days of August seem to melt away, I even sent out friendly reminders the week of the party. I wanted to confirm the number of guests that would be in attendance. Again, everything seemed to come together--at least that was until the night of my first get together the day before my dinner. The turn out was pitiful.
I was in shock.
Did I miss something? Did the Facebook gods confirm guests that actually meant to decline? I was perplexed, and I felt myself panicking soon after my ladies night.
Because of the turn out of my first event, some strange voice in the back of mind repeatedly convinced me that I should cancel my dinner and just do something independently,yet I still decided to go through with the risk of making myself look like a fool.
The next night when quite uneventfully. I was truly surprised to see the people that were there. A few of them were friends that I hadn't spoken to in a while, and some of the guests were friends of friends. Overall, I was thankful that regardless of the lack of communication I shared with the people at my party, they decided to celebrate with me that night. Again, there continued to be a number of people that said they would be at the dinner that didn't show up. The ones that I thought meant something to me, to my life, were M.I.A.
Although my birthday weekend had not gone nearly as well as I had hoped, it wasn't nearly as bad as last year, which I had blocked out of my mind. An almost similar situation happened and I honestly had completely forgotten about it. The only reason my 23rd birthday crept back into my thoughts was because my best friend Biggs had drawn comparisons between the two. Just as a brief overview, last year was a lot more simpler. I had asked some of my friends to come out to dinner with me. It ended up being only me, my best friend Smith, Shannon and Shannon's boyfriend. Again, where did people go? Where were my supposed friends?
I had a conflict with technology... Or shall I say, I had a conflict with the people that clearly didn't use technology to inform me of their presence.
There are so many outlets of communication, and I'm truly at a loss at why people chose not to utilize them. Why even have cell phones, texting, Facebook, e-mail, etc? Better yet, what happened to the age old phone call? What ever happened to people just calling you up, and not using such forms of communication as a cop out? Is it laziness, fear, or cowardice? I suppose though that beggars can't be choosers. I suppose an excuse is better than no excuse; however, at what point have people forgotten to consider your feelings, or take a moment just step in your shoes even though they are metallic gold, 4-inch heels?