Communicate, dammit.

You know, for as much as we fucking talk, it sure does seem hard to communicate, sometimes. I mean, think about it.

How much do we talk every day? How much of those words are actually spent on legitimate communication? How much of it is just space/time filler? What qualifies as communication?

I've recently realized that I have little to no patience for people who refuse to be open and communicative. I'm tired of trying to pull teeth. If someone wants to tell me something, they should tell me. Out with it! Spit it out. Tell me what's on your mind. Ask questions. Don't beat allllll the way around the proverbial bush, and wait for me to glom on to some morsel of information so I can rip the actual crux of the situation from you forcefully.

I'm not going to do it. I just refuse. I used to spend my life always asking everyone who was important to me "What's wrong? Are you ok? Is it this? Is it that? Are you angry with me? Did something happen?" Fuck it. I'm not doing that anymore.

If I sense you have something to tell me, or that you need to talk, I will ask you ONCE. I will put myself out there, I will say "Hey. Are you ok? Do you need to talk?" If your response is "I'm ok here are some space/time filling words that mean nothing (but by the way please please please try to tear the actual problem out of me look here it is but noooooooo I'm not going to tell you what's going on!) blah blah blah." I'm going to smile and nod and walk the fuck away.

I have my own life full of people and places and things that require my attention. I have my OWN stuff going on, that also requires my attention.

If you want my attention (this is the general 'you', not anyone specific. Ok, maybe YOU...), then you need to put yourself out there and accept the potential consequences of your actions. Strong, silent types aren't going to get anywhere with me, because I just don't have time.

"I don't have time."

Bullshit. I'm so tired of hearing this excuse from people. I used to use this excuse myself, and still do, occasionally - but I've decided "I don't have time" will be unacceptable to me from here on out.

We DO have time. We have SO MUCH TIME. Time, just like every other commodity, must be budgeted. I think about back in the old days when people had to work a farm and raise their children, and worked from dawn until well after dark just to make ends meet. And they still had time to write books and invent things and paint amazing works of art.

We spend so much of our time trying to 'recover' from normal life. We go to work 7-8 hours a day and come home and are like "Oh man I just worked 1/3 of my day, I really need to sit down and relax and recuperate from doing my job." Seriously? What's there to recover from? How many people actually have jobs that take that much out of them? And if their jobs are that inordinately stressful, perhaps they should re-think their careers and try to put it on a less destructive path. Oh wait. When that is suggested, the answer is often... you guessed it... "I don't have time."

Again, I say... BULLSHIT.

If we want to improve our lives, then we have to make time to do it. I think back to when I used to play World of Warcraft for 5-6 hours a night 3-4 nights a week, and I would actually tell myself "I don't have time for exercise/healthy diet/constructive hobbies/communicating with people." I honestly believed my own lies. I didn't have time! I had obligations to people!

The only obligations we have are the ones we take on. And we should oblige ourselves occasionally, and do something to improve our time on this planet. We should make promises to ourselves, and keep them. We should look at our oh-so-hectic schedules and see what fat we can trim and still maintain a healthy ratio of need:want.

So, the next time someone tells me "Oh Gina, I'd love to start working out regularly, but I just don't have time!" I'm going to just nod and walk away. Clearly, they don't want to have time, and thus they won't. The next time someone says "Oh Gina, I'd love to eat healthier, but cooking just takes so much time!" I'm going to say "Yup!" because arguing that cooking actually takes less time than getting in the car and going to pick up a hamburger is wasting my time. If someone tells me "Oh Gina, I wish I could learn how to paint/sew/knit/draw/sing/play an instrument/indoor rock-climb/dance, but I just don't have time!" I will say "Oh, that's too bad!" Because it is. You do have time. We all have time. Too much of it, really. If you want to waste yours, have at it. But don't tell me you don't have it.

Maybe start saying "I'd love to do X thing, but I am wasting all my time!" That's more honest, at least.

Somewhat related: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aUaInS6HIGo&feature=youtu.be (Totally worth 9 minutes of your time, I think! Thanks, Mike.)

Touchy subject.

Once again, I feel motivated to address the 'love your body' movement that frequently wells up on Facebook and other social networks.

Yesterday, an article comparing a 'plus sized' model to a 'fashion' model was flooding Facebook. (Here it is for your reference: http://plus-model-mag.com/2012/01/plus-size-bodies-what-is-wrong-with-them-anyway/) I read the article, and I see a lot of valid points in it. I also see a lot of bias that is somehow forgiven, though. I mean... imagine if the viewpoints were switched?

What if that article were to say "Plus-sized models are typically 20-50 pounds over their 'optimal' weight, are 20% more likely to have high cholesterol and heart attacks", etc.? (I just made up those statistics for illustration, btw.)

If it were turned around the other way, then women everywhere would take offense. They would say "WE CAN'T ALL BE MODELS" and "WHY IS THERE SO MUCH FAT HATE?!" They would be angry that 'the media' was trying to tell women everywhere to be stick-thin and work out constantly or they're ugly.

But for some reason, it's OK for people to say that thin women are anorexic. It's OK to say that heavier women are 'more womanly', or 'more fertile', or 'goddesses'.

This particular article was written in a manner that didn't spew thin-hate, but there was also a blog post that hit Facebook more virally that was just rife with thin-hate: http://www.pajiba.com/trade_news/sidebyside-comparison-of-averagesized-woman-with-a-supermodel-will-blow-out-your-mindhole.php .

How is that OK? People are spreading that around like it's the cutest little jab at anorexic models and a self-esteem booster for 'the average woman', when it's basically a 'women who aren't a size 14 are ugly and if you think they are pretty you're a douchebag' statement.

I have been a wide range of weights. I've been 60 pounds overweight, and I've been 20 pounds underweight. I've been healthy and I've been sickly. I've been happy at a size 14, and happy at a size 4. I've also been full of self-loathing at a size 14, and full of self-hate at a size 4. I don't think a woman's self-worth should be based on her dress size, but I also think that women should consider their health instead of using things like this (the second one in particular) as a crutch when trying to justify their lack of motivation/good eating habits.

I find women of all shapes and sizes to be absolutely beautiful. I fully believe that if a woman is happy with herself and exudes that confidence and warmth, she is stunning. She can be a size 2 or a size 20 and still be absolutely breathtaking... and I would never hold other people to my own personal standards of diet and/or physical fitness. I've been all over the scale in regards to both of those things, and I am intimately familiar with the mental and emotional anguish body image can and often does cause.

I wanna know what's wrong with just being healthy, having a good self-image, and loving ourselves. We only have one body, and we should take care of it as best we can. We should feel beautiful. We should not dread looking in the mirror. We should enjoy buying and wearing our clothes. Whatever size we need to be to achieve that goal should be what we strive for - but making excuses and trying to talk ourselves into being happy with being 'average sized' because we don't want to make an effort - well. That's just wrong, in my opinion.

We all have potential to be beautiful, and it's not in a number.

You're beautiful.

It's really weird to hear that.

"You're beautiful."

I always have the urge to look over my shoulder and see if someone who's actually beautiful is standing behind me.

Sure, I heard it a lot growing up. My parents never ever skimped on the self-esteem boosting verbiage... I was told how beautiful I was and how proud they were of me very consistently, and very sincerely.

But still. When I hear "You're beautiful." something in me breaks just a little bit. It's a good breaking, though. It's like a part of me that's denied that fact for so many years is gradually being chipped away by four syllables. At 38 years old, I'm finally coming to realize that yes. I am beautiful.

I've decided to try and make other people feel that little bit of breakage more often. I see people who just look mired in whatever crap they have in their life, and I sometimes want to just give them a hug and say "You're beautiful." Instead of risking a punch in the face or being maced, I usually opt for a smile or a brief, friendly conversation... but maybe they're hearing the right four syllables on some level.

Gifted? Yeah, right.

First, let me start by saying this: I grew up in one of the most well-adjusted, wonderful, amazingly warm, loving homes imaginable. My parents, while also flawed individuals, were and still are a huge inspiration to me. They're fantastic individuals, wonderful as a couple, and absolutely some of the very best people you could ever hope to meet. My brother is also a fabulous addition to the world, and I do not place any 'blame' or 'responsibility' upon my family life for my own hiccups as a blossoming individual. That said:

I think we all start out in pieces. Like legos, maybe. We are little blocks full of promise and hope, little tidbits of awesome that can be joined into something spectacular or serve as caltrops on the floor if left unattended for too long. But still colorful and fun and almost infinite.

One of my legos consisted of a big brain. I was talking to someone the other day about how growing up 'gifted' really seemed to be a detriment, because I was always thinking-thinking-thinking and didn't really understand what the hell I was thinking about. I remember distinct moments in my early years where I was just like WHAT THE CRAP AM I DOING HERE. I remember feeling utterly out of place, being ostracized by kids, having a particularly rough time in Catholic school to the point I would go home crying every day and my mom (being the wonderful person she is) was always trying to help me work through it and overcome, and likely getting frustrated as I made little to no progress.

I didn't really overcome. I did learn to manage my discomfort, though. I learned to 'ignore' the people who were mean to me, I learned to find solace in my own space. My brother was always super outgoing and comfortable wherever he was, but I was always quiet and reserved and shy. I never really reached out. Any super close friends I made, I made by accident because we were forced together. Had I not had those happenstance moments, I probably would have made my way through my adolescence solo beyond the people who had to love me.

Yeah, it sucked being 'gifted'. It really wasn't much of a gift at all, then.

Yeah, it's a blog.

I post a lot on social networks, but I always feel weird piling a big ton of information into what's supposed to be a short status update. Also - I've had a lot of people asking me about my personal growth experiences over the past few years, and I wanted to dump it all in one central location where people could read it without spamming my G+ and Facebook feeds with personal things that a lot of people don't care about.

So, I am going to use this blog to share things that have helped me grow into the person I am striving to be. Cheesy as it may be, I hope it can help or inspire or at least give some insight into me as a person instead of just seeing the superficial presence that I share (profusely, I know) on the internet.

If you're here, and if you're reading, then welcome. Please comment and contribute as you see fit, I love to interact.

My next post will be an 'introduction', as it were - something to start from so I can explain how the Gina I am today grew from quite ordinary, often intensely flawed, roots.