Old [Un]Reliable

People are so unreliable.

I am so unreliable.

WE are so unreliable. 

I have become increasingly aware of a very sad truth -- there are very few people in my life that are really reliable people. Now, I realize that because I will have blasted this post out to all of my friends on Facebook, Google +, and Twitter, many of you might take offense, but before you do, know that I include myself, and hold myself accountable for these actions as well. 

I have come to realize that I don't know many people anymore who aren't flakey, always pining for the best option in any situation (human nature I dare say), and are punctual and dependable. I love most everyone I meet, so this makes it very hard to accept this reality, but at some point, I must. And what's even worse is to know that I must accept this about myself as well. This sad truth has become not just a character flaw, but a societal flaw overall, which is strange and hypocritical considering that most of us request of others that they be reliable and punctual. 

Somewhere along the way, we must have realized that it is people's tendency (again, my generalization applies to the people in the regions of California that I have dealt with, not the whole world and every culture) to keep us waiting and/or bail on plans. The realization of this habit in other people must have led us to begin to run late ourselves, so not to always be the early one left waiting. But now, instead of one person waiting on the other, we're all left not trying as hard as we used to to make it to things on time and be dependable people. 

No one likes to be the first one to a party. It's weird, awkward, and you have all the conversation you planned on having the entire night in the first 15 minutes. You're there with the host left wondering when the heck anyone else is going to show up, and why on earth you thought you needed to be there on time. Not fun. So then came about this "fashionably late" thing, where people realized that you didn't want to be the first one to the party, so instead, we show up 15 minutes late. By this time, people are there, drink in hand, and the awkward ice has been broken. Great plan right? Wrong! It was great when just one person, couple or small group would show up late, but now, as it is everyone's habit (especially considering we flock like herds), we've just created a mess of awkward gatherings where everything is put on hold because people don't know how to check a clock and get there on time, if they even plan to arrive at all. 

Quite a messy society we've developed when you really think about it, but one that can certainly be salvaged. I don't really know at which point we all decided that trying hard was a bad, embarrassing, uncool thing to do, but I think we all need to work on realizing that trying really hard is a great thing! It pays off, it gets you where you want to be, and I know for myself, when I feel like I have been a dependable person, I feel better about who I am and what I'm doing. Let's all take an oath to try a little harder. A little harder to keep in touch, be there for one another, and be someone that people can count on. Yes? :)

Today's Thoughts: I know I am a very flawed person, but realizing these flaws and taking them one at a time, working on them little-by-little, will pay off and I will become the lady that I want to be! And so can you! (Become the lady or gentleman you want to be.)

Where Is The Love?

Every single one of us is born with certain desires and questions. The desire to love and be loved is one, and the never-ending question and exploration about what our purpose is in life is another. Both of these are things I have struggled with for my entire life in one way or another.

I remember being in the first and second grades. There was a group of us girls that were "BFF's" and always "stuck together." We always fought over one of the girls, Michelle, and for some reason had decided that she was the ultimate BFF, the one we all wanted to share our friendship necklaces and secrets with. Now, I'm not sure how this cruel game came to be, but I distinctly remember that we would alternate excluding one of the girls. A few of us would completely exclude her and make her feel like she wasn't part of the group anymore. We would walk past whoever was out of the group for the week and say things like, "I can't wait to spend the night at your house tonight! It's going to be so much fun!" We would say it loud enough, and deliberately enough that whoever we were shunning that week would hear, feel sad and jealous, and know that she was missing out on something, even though no sleep overs were ever actually planned. And one thing I remember more than any of it, was how it felt to be the girl sitting against the cement building, watching as my so-called "best friends" walked by, bragging about the plans they were making, and excluding me from. Even though I was part of doing that to others, I felt like I was on the outside more than the inside. It brings tears to my eyes and pain to my heart to recall these times.

I don't know how or why girls are so viscous, and why when we are young we feel the need to prove "how cool we are" by completely bringing down other people. And the fact that we never were really planning a sleep over, just means that we premeditated the pain we were inflicting. How sad and gross. When we are that young, we do not realize the psychological damage that we are inflicting on our fellow lady friends, and it's no wonder so many grow up to be depressed adults, constantly seeking the attention, approval, and acceptance of others, and generally finding it in the company of men. And if this is the kind of thing that was going on back in 1996, I can't even imagine what goes on today now that kids are exposed to so much more violence and hardship.

Our society is full of problems, but one of the greatest, by far, is our inability to simply give into, accept, and go with one of our only desires -- to love and be loved. If all we want from the time we are born is to feel loved, then why do we waste so much energy and time doing exactly the opposite to those around us? Why not just give in to the fact that we want to be loved, and realize that in order to be loved, we must also love?

There's a real problem these days, and as I've demonstrated, it's been going on for years, more likely decades and centuries, with people and the way we treat one another. If we weren't put on this earth to take care of each other, then why are there so many of us? So many people have children and pets because they want that bundle of joy that validates them. A baby or pet loves you, needs you, adores you, and is there for you. What else feels as good as a baby looking up at you, smiling, with its arms outstretched for you to hold it? Or a dog that gets excited and races up to you for love when it sees you? And what feels worse than being dissed by a baby or dog? Very little. This innate need to love and be loved is something we all have, so why don't we express it more?

I believe that we can see changes in the world. But I also know for a fact that the only way to see these changes are to love and be loved. We can't keep closing ourselves off to the possibility of great love, refusing to give it, and hope that things will get better. It's impossible, and I don't need to be a poli sci major or politician to know it.

Let's work on loving each other, unconditionally. :)

Today's Thought: If every person gave as much love as they had, and every person received all the love that was offered to them (not meaning sex), then the world would be the most beautiful place. But maybe that's not the point. Maybe earth isn't supposed to be that happy, because then what desire would any of us have to move onto Heaven (whatever your idea of heaven/after life might be)?

The Waiting Room

Four words for you: Doctor's office waiting room OR three: pharmacy waiting room.

My definition: A gathering place for people with an assortment of ailments, all waiting to be seen, treated, and helped. They all tend to have the same looks on their faces, that vary from "I am on my death bed," to "Hurry up and get me the hell out of here," to "This is so boring," and my personal favorite and most sported, "Wow, this shiz on the tv is so weird."

Currently I am entertained by what I assume to be one of the Homeward Bound movies, and can't help but think who their audience is. I am not in pediatrics, I graduated from that segment a couple years ago, thank you very much! ;) And as interested as I am in finding out if Otis will find food to take back to Sonja and their newborn pups (he just did, thank goodness)....ah to heck with it, I am highly entertained and interested in this movie. And there you have it, a true depiction of my ever, and easily, changing mind.

Now to get back on track...

One thing I love about the waiting room is the constant reminder it brings of hope and equality. There are people of all ages, ethnicities, backgrounds, and education levels here. We are all in the same, imperfect condition as the stranger next to us. All waiting to make the slightest improvement to ourselves through the use of medical attention and care, and all reliant of medication to help us "feel better."

Another thing I enjoy is the mystery of it all. I could be in a room with someone who had just been told they've only got a week left, a person with bipolar disorder, someone with the common cold, or a person who's just had reconstructive surgery on their butt. It's quite thrilling to sit and wonder why each person is here.

There's the elderly woman whose eyes don't leave the screen where names are posted when the refills are ready, the elderly man with his outstretched legs, tapping with vigor as he awaits what comes next, the tiny child who runs around yelling, bored out of their mind and wanting nothing more than to use the chairs as a jungle gym, and all the others. Quite an eclectic setting.

Me, myself, and I are here waiting for a refill on one of my inhalers, my asthma pill, and my most recent prescription (like, 20 min ago recent), for this horribly unattractive mess that has taken over my upper back. Gross right? But not to fear, with 5 weeks of a special body shampoo it will be gone! And I'm sure some of you are even wondering why I would share such a thing, and to that the answer is fairly simple. I vowed to always be honest with you, and I want this blog to really be a reflection on my life. After all, it's called A.D.D. Adventures, and this shiz on my back is definitely an adventure!

If you are ever feeling a little down, like you just aren't cute enough, or this or that is wrong with you and it sucks, just remember that no one is perfect. There will always be someone out there with a problem worse than yours, in a situation far more disheartening than you (not referring to myself and my Tinea Versicolor). Keep your head up, because when you're down, the only place left to go is up!