Truth

http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/06/this-is-why-ill-never-be-adult.html

Jante

I just can't get over this. I've been thinking about it for days, since Becky Anderson told me about it.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jante_Law

Or...

There are ten different rules in the law as defined by Sandemose, but they all express variations on a single theme and are usually referred to as a homogeneous unit: Don't think you're anyone special or that you're better than us.

The ten rules state:

1. Don't think you're anything special.
2. Don't think you're as good as we.
3. Don't think you're smarter than we.
4. Don't convince yourself that you're better than we.
5. Don't think you know more than we.
6. Don't think you are more important than we.
7. Don't think you are good at anything.
8. Don't laugh at us.
9. Don't think anyone cares about you.
10. Don't think you can teach us anything.

An eleventh rule recognized in the novel is:

11. Don't think there's anything we don't know about you.

In the book, those Janters who transgress this unwritten 'law' are regarded with suspicion and some hostility, as it goes against communal desire in the town to preserve social stability and uniformity.

How is this even a real cultural norm? It makes me sad. Just wicked sad. And as crazy as it may sound, last I checked, most of my family was incredibly Danish. As in, this is my culture. My family roots. I knew Europe was a dark place, but dang. What a horrible way to live.

Rant:

I get just a little tired of people telling me how wonderful and clever and talented their writer friends are. They have a blog and they're funny. Shocker.

Ever been on a treadmill and feel like you've been working super hard and burning loads of calories and then realize you've only been going for 20 minutes and burned like 4 calories?

Welcome to Maren and counseling.

Today's Statistics:

Typing: 87 wpm.

Story written this morning: 350 words in 20 minutes. bam.

New Starbucks cups: strange.

New Target, chocolate brown shoes: $30 and in the mail. FINALLY.

Urban Outfitters: Going tomorrow with Bekah

Money: Dwindling

Boys: Undecided

Phone: Like it

Sleep: Not enough

Number of times I hit snooze this morning: 3? 8?

10:30 and thinking about lunch? yes

Giving up for lent: Diet Soda. aka bullet to the brain

Room at home: Pig sty

Desk at work: Pig sty

Homework: I haven't even looked yet

In trouble: Almost undoubtedly

Looking forward to the weekend: walloping HELL YES

Desiring: cake

weary whiny

I haven't posted in a long time.

Maybe because I haven't really had much to say. Maybe I haven't cared enough to share anything. Maybe bits of both.

I think I'm sick. My focus of this week has been to simply, simply give what I have to offer. I haven't had much to offer lately. And boo on that. There are, indeed, days when I think I'm super woman and then I get slapped down with doses of reality. Today I'm being slapped with feeling nasty.

I want to go home (pretend I'm saying that in a completely weary, whiny voice).

I went to Wal-Mart today to buy shampoo. I swear that store gives me panic attacks. And it reminds me of Shawnee. And that's weird.

I've added something to my bucket list: Beat Ms. Pac-Man.

Also, I have very little money. Paycheck to paycheck is strange business and I don't like it. It scares me. Rent is about to go up. Just bought a new phone (because I needed one). It's wedding season and I need dresses and gifts for the b&g's.

My want list has fallen to a wish list. That's depressing. I guess that's life.

chronically

I've been crying lately. I mean, I have a soft side, but holy monkeys, I just can't seem to stop crying. I think there may be something wrong with me.

I cried watching Glee. I know the feeling of rejection so well it makes me sick. Every time I watch someone's heart break, mine breaks with them. Again. It's like being kicked in the stomach. So then I think about it for two days and cry about it every time. Like I'm doing right now. Why am I writing this online? As I said before, I think there may be something wrong with me.

The furnace in my home is on the fritz. I walked into the hall this morning to be met with 58 degree air and all I could do was gasp and try to keep breathing in my shivering.

Until about a year ago, I genuinely stood by the Biblical mandate that it's wrong to use God's name in vain- that saying "oh my god" was a nasty thing. And then I started saying it ALL the time and told myself it was okay. I'm not okay with it anymore. So now every time I say it, I'm giving Jesus .25 which shall be deposited in the collection bucket on Sunday morning.

Blurg. We're out of kleenex at the office, which means that messes- either on my face or from my lunch- are being sopped up with napkins. Yuckers.

One of my new favorite websites:

http://coverlaydown.com/

This website was passed on to me by Becky Anderson. Thank you, Becky. Some of the downloaded songs are quickly becoming favorites. "How's the World Treating You" by Alison Kraus and James Taylor gets 10 stars as does "The Best is Yet to Come" by Patti Griffin.

It's Wednesday afternoon and I don't have any stories prepared for the week as of yet. I was hoping that writing and blogging might get the writing juice back to my fingers.

Wonderful news- I got new business cards that aren't horribly ugly today! I'm not so embarrassed giving out my card anymore :) Plus they gave us like 1,000 so I think I'll have a job for a while.

I have a ton of homework to do- before tomorrow. I haven't even looked at my assignments yet, probably out of sheer terror that I'll find out that I have more homework to do than God intended. Grad school, you are a strange little monster.

I'm tired of eating frozen box food all the time. I'm HELLA sick of this weather. I'm tired of being sad for reasons I don't understand. I'm so tired of dealing with my roommate situation and the poison with which it has infected my life.

I feel like a wuss this week. I don't feel brave anymore. I don't feel brave anymore in general.

Rats. Co-worker came in medias res of this post and I cussed again. Blurg.

I feel more like Liz Lemon everyday. Making up silly words. Saying blurg all the time. Never holding onto relationships.

Oh, and what is it with this cheating business, especially as we see on Glee? I wonder if some people have a proclivity to cheat. I really think they do. And some of us are glued to fidelity and find ourselves chronically single. What. the. f.

I bought myself a ring from JCPenney's for Valentine's Day this year. (It's really, really pretty) I decided that if there's no boy in my life to buy me pretty things, I'll buy myself pretty things. I think this is an attitude I'll adopt for a once-monthly gift. At least when I look at pretty things I don't feel as alone.

I bought a MyTouch last week. It's already acting crappily. Regardless, I like the Bible app I downloaded and reading the tiny little pages. It feels novel and actually really practical.

Let's read a Psalm I read last night. Ps. 42:5 in the Message (picked at random) :

Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul? Why are you crying the blues? Fix my eyes on God- soon I'll be praising again. He puts a smile on my face. He's my God.