Photoshoot

I had a portrait shoot done today with a friend of mine, Doug Sullivan and I really like some of the shots, so I thought I'd post them here. Enjoy!

Epiphany

For reasons unknown I have managed to convince myself that I, despite my good fortune and many blessings, am a victim.

The first signs of this became clear when I was faced with the situation last semester of having a temporary surplus of spending money. I realized that regardless of the fact that I have never been left wanting, have never gone unclothed or unfed, and am entirely in control of my current financial situation, I felt "poor". I don't simply mean that I felt annoyed at not being able to splurge constantly, but I had actually convinced myself that I was on the verge of losing everything - my car, my apartment, food - at any given time. Never before had I realized how much resentment I had for those whom I perceived to be better off than myself, even when faced with evidence to the contrary.

A few months later, I began to notice that I had become a very angry person in private. I was developing a sort of road rage, cursing frequently, and was nearly always unhappy for no reason in particular. I was turning simple events that ought to have rolled off my back or been funny into great tragedies. I have always despised this sort of melodrama in others, and hope that I have not humiliated myself too much with it. I was under the impression that I was trying to think positively and the world was simply against me, which of course I found frustrating. I ended up just bottling everything inside and then exploding privately - to the point where I didn't want to be around myself. I now realize that thinking positively is not something you can force yourself into - like most good habits, it takes time and the willingness to occasionally make a fool of yourself.

Most recently, I realized that even though I may absolutely love and adore someone - a close friend or significant other - they are not free from the effects of my self-victimization. Although I wanted nothing more than for these people to have a blessed and happy life, I resented them for certain aspects of their pasts and presents. I was somehow hateful towards them for having an "easier" time with things, even though I had no proof that this was true. Worse, I discovered that at times I had less respect for them or viewed them as childish because of their blessings. Our experiences and decisions may have been different, but who is to say that mine were any more difficult than theirs? Regardless, they had no more control over their childhood than I did over my own, so how can I blame them for any aspect of it? Not to mention the fact that when viewed objectively, the people in question were very wise and responsible in the way they used their blessings.

I am horribly embarrassed by these discoveries, which is perhaps why it took a near falling-out to discover them. Even then my first instinct was to blame others - "Why didn't anyone tell me?!" - but of course this is silly. The truth is, it's all common sense. I should always be happy for those I love to have any blessings available to them. I should spend more time noting my blessings and less worrying about things I can not control. If I start the day thinking "Oh great, what will go wrong today?" then even a very good day can be made to seem terrible. On the other hand, if I view traffic as the chance to hear another favorite song, or forgetting homework as simply an "Oops!" a day that could have been annoying or stressful is perfectly fine. The fact of the matter is, I "knew" all of this - I just didn't live by it. Even if everyone I knew had told me, I would not have understood.

Long story short I am going to be a happier, more fair, understanding person. I am not going to TRY to be, I simply will be. In the wise words of Yoda: "Do, or do not. There is no try." I want to apologize to anyone whom I have victimized through my own immaturity. Please know that it was inadvertent. I ask for patience as I adjust, and for help if I fall into old habits. Thank you all for loving me and blessing me in so many ways.

~ Shelli

I'm considering writing a book - a memoir. I started one for Theories of Personality, and I really enjoyed it. Of course, I think it a bit vain to assume that anyone would be particularly interested in what I had to say, but I suppose my collection of all-too-common experiences could be entertaining for some people.

Of course, some people would never forgive me if I did write one. I would definitely need to change people's names, and I don't know if my family would ever be allowed to see it, with my mother having the only slight possibility. I don't know. In a way I think it's all too personal, but in a way that is what is so endearing about it. I just want it all to matter in some larger way. By no means have I struggled excessively, it's just that... well, I suppose I simply wish to be heard. Somehow I'm not sure that's the best reason to write a book. Oh well, we shall see.

Suggested Reading

I completed two novels yesterday, both of which were wonderful. They were probably not the best possible use of my time, considering that I have a midterm and a paper due today, but I found myself simply unable to put them down. The first, One Small Boat, I had been reading slowly over the course of a week or so - it is well broken up for spurts of evening reading. The second, Sold, I read cover-to-cover last night. Its prose-like form was mildly irritating initially, but I found that as I went on the rhythm it created was nearly hypnotic and really pulled me into the story.

One Small Boat is a memoir by Kathy Harrison, a foster parent for young girls over the course of many years. Between children by birth, adoption, and foster care, the Harrisons had ten children under their roof at any given time, but Daisy was in many ways unique. Daisy is a painfully sweet 5 year old struggling with anorexia, a severe speech impediment, and disturbingly autistic-like coping behaviors. Daisy's birth mother wasn't poor, uneducated, or drug addicted. She simply couldn't bring herself to take care of her daughter. What has happened to this sweet, fragile little girl, and what can be done for her?

Sold, by Patricia Mccormick, is about a thirteen year old Nepalese girl named Lakshimi, who was sold by her impoverished farm family to work for a rich city family as a maid. The life she is flung into however, is hardly what she or her family had in mind. She is passed from person to person over the next few days until her arrivel at Happiness House, a filthy brothel in one of the many red-light districts of India, where she must do the unthinkable in an attempt to survive and regain her freedom.

March 10, 2008

Spring Break is next week, and I'm working 12hr shifts every other day. Both my mother and long-term boyfriend Erik have their Spring Break this week, so there will be minimal socializing. I recently re-inherited the large (20x10) back bedroom of my mother's house, so I'll be cleaning up and rearranging furniture in my down time. Perhaps I will pick up an extra shift or two at work as well.

My mom recently bought me a new camera - an Olympus EVOLT E-510with two lenses. It's absolutely gorgeous - I can't wait to get out there and start shooting! Sadly, my shiny new toy does not take SD memory cards, which means I'll have to wait until I can afford new Compact Flash cards and, considering the amount of maintenance currently being demanded by my car (oil change, headlight replacement, registration update) as well as the fact that I have two months worth of bills that need to be covered while I am away this summer, that may very well be a while.

I am moving into a new apartment immediately after Finals Week with my best friend (Stephanie) and her boyfriend (Chris), which means that I'll be living in Shreveport full-time from now on. The new place is really nice - we each have a 12x12 bedroom, and I get my own bathroom with a garden tub. We still need to buy a washer and dryer, but we already have a couch, love seat, various tables, and a dining room set. Stephanie's mom is buying us a full set of new dishes, and Stephanie is taking me to buy bathroom decor as an early birthday / house warming gift. I've got an easel-style floor lamp with shelves for my bedroom, and I have my sights set on a gorgeous queen-size dark wood sleigh bed. After that, all I'll have left to buy is a curtain and possibly some wall art.

Two weeks after we move in I am leaving for 3 weeks to Ecuador. Despite rising concerns about the potential of war breaking out before we leave, I am very excited. I'll be going with two professors and a small group of fellow students to ride horses in the Andes, trek through the Amazon, learn how to ice climb, and renovate a school for local street children. It should rove to be the trip of a lifetime.

I plan to get a full-time job locally once I return in June, then change to part time during the school year. Shortly after I get back from Ecuador Erik will be leaving for Alaska, where he will remain for just over 3 weeks, so I will be in desperate need of something to keep me occupied while he is away. In a way I hate to see him go, but I can not bear the thought of holding him back. He loves to travel as much as I do, and this is sure to be a wonderful experience for him. To get upset simply because I will be lonely wouldn't be fair. I just wish he didn't have to be away for our 3rd anniversary. Hopefully I can find a position at a local bookstore or craft shop to pass the time - someplace I will really enjoy.

Once all of the vacationing is done, Erik and I will be heading into largely uncharted territory. I will be living and working year-round in Shreveport, and he will begin flight instructing in addition to his classes. Neither of us are likely to see our families between mid-summer and Thanksgiving, which will be hard because both of us are extremely family-oriented. I am both saddened and exhilarated by the thought - after all, this is a chosen change and a very positive one at that... but still, I will miss spending time with my mom and I'm sure Erik feels the same about his parents. We have gotten comfortable in our little pattern of coming and going together, and now it will all need to change again. C'est la vie, je suppose.