Woman

What is it about men that make a woman alone seem worthless? 

How can our fathers advocate for independence yet society shows us dependence on one is the fortress,

the security,

the goal of one’s life,

To find a man who loves, cares, cherishes, and holds us tight.

To find a man who keeps us grounded and that one person who makes us want to be better, 

but we seem to have lost the idea of that man’s sole competitor.

The self.

The woman.

The strong, intelligent, beautiful, I-don’t-need-a-man-to-get-by wonderful woman.

From a young age we are taught that a woman needs a man.

Consciously,
subconsciously,
subliminally we are told that what is necessary is right 

and what is right is to be a wife.

Fairy tales abundant of women finding men, 

the idea of a single, unmarried parent looked down on again and again.

Like women couldn’t survive without that Y-chromosome, and trying?

That can’t be right - we shouldn’t be alone.

Because somewhere in the course of all of our years, 

we interpreted what we then turned into a fear:

that being alone is not the way and it shouldn’t be done,

so we long for the companion, the other half, the one.

And by doing this we’ve caused interruption in our lives.

Our personal goals, dreams and ambitions set aside.

Because what’s more important than doing what you love?

It’s finding it instead,

so we search high and low.

Society has emphasized to us what is right.

We know what we’ve been shown,

but our fathers taught us differently – and because of that, we should have known.

Known to disregard the messages that we interpret to be so right,

and to get the idea of a man,

a husband,

a soul mate,

out of the center of our sight.

Because a man is not most important and should not be seen as such,

so this message is for those women, who worry too much,

the women who wonder if they’ll ever be enough,

the women who think human nature is calling,

that their clock is ticking, so they’re at home balling,

over a man who is in their life now,

one who once was, or will be,

Oh when will that time be?

I say to you, don’t worry.

Because contrary to the messages we we’re fed,

the lies that were spread,

the words we interpreted and filed away in our heads.

You don’t need a man.

You don’t need the one.

Because in this life, you’ll do much greater things than find a man,
you’re a strong, intelligent, beautiful, wonderful woman.  

90 Days in Tamarindo: Day 35

Thirty five days. It's been thirty five days since we stepped off American soil and embarked on a mission to learn more about ourselves, become immersed in another culture, explore other parts of our vastly unexplored world and let go of the things we were holding onto at home that needed to be let go of. Thirty five days.

In thirty five days you can build a deck in front of your house. You can learn new dance styles and perform them with ease. You can perfect the angle of your shot to perfectly hit your paintball opponent square in the chest during the final round of a four on four match. In thirty five days we have learned that making friends is as easy as asking someone where they are from. We have learned that sometimes people don't follow through with promises. We have learned that judging a book by its cover can mean a missed opportunity. And most importantly, we have learned that no matter the circumstance, you can change an entire situation by simply controlling the way you respond to it. 

Our 90 days in Tamarindo have effectively been changed to 60 days in Tamarindo. After careful deliberation and many a discussion on the topic, we have decided to return to The States a month early. We are neither upset nor ashamed of the decision but thankful to have had the experiences we have thus far and excited to make the most of the rest of our time here. 

Since the last update, we have continued our pattern of adventuring when we aren't working and making friends along the way. We traveled by private shuttle, with quite possibly the coolest driver yet who challenged my Spanish skills by only knowing a few words in English, to the small town of Montezuma, Costa Rica. It was in this small town at a bar that we made new friends simply by sharing in the frustration of the complete lack of respect some people have. Nothing like a little bit of shared hatred to bring people together, huh? We spent nearly the rest of our time in Montezuma with them, hiking up mountains, jumping off waterfalls, enjoying a dinner that took far too long to make and took far too much of our money, enjoying coffee and breakfast by the ocean, and sharing stories of our lives at home that are quite different being lived on opposite sides of the same country. We convinced our new friends to take a chance and we shared our shuttle back to Tamarindo with them and brought them to our hostel. What can we say? You make friends fast when you're the only people who speak fluent American English in town with two streets. 

When we returned to our hostel in Tamarindo we started planning the next adventure: kayaking up the river to the estuary in hopes of seeing crocodiles, monkeys, and the local birds. Initially, Krysti was scared. She had this ridiculous fear that she'd be eaten by a crocodile and not live to tell the story. Clearly, we were not eaten and we are alive and well to tell the story of how uneventful and crocodile-less this kayak trip was. It was slightly disappointing since I was GoPro-ready to see some beady eyes in the distance. The most we got was the sight of some tracks and crocodile-tail-whipped river banks. Still cool, but much less cool than an actual croc! 

The way back was terrible. We were kayaking against the wind and the current. I thought I had dead arms from working out, or wrestling with my sisters, but those arms don't compare to the dead arms we got from kayaking back through the current. I was highly frustrated. I was quickly becoming upset and hoping and wishing for one of the passing boats to see the frustration on my face and offer to tow us in. Can you guess what didn't happen? I bet you can. I guess it's much more of an accomplishment if its hard, though, so in retrospect I suppose I'm just a bad ass. Yep. That is what I am going with. End of story.

It is with a sad heart that I report we have yet to do anything exciting since the crocodile-less adventure, other than plan our next adventure.  

In the coming weeks we will be venturing to Monte Verde and La Fortuna to see Volcano Arenal, walk across some rickety bridges, soak in the natural hot springs and natural hot river, zip line through the canopy of trees and take in the scenery of an area of opposite climate than we are use to in Tamarindo. After that we will head to  Tortuguera and hopefully see some turtles while we snorkel in the crystal clear waters off the Caribbean coast of Costa Rica. I suppose a little down time is ok while we await these next adventures! :)

90 Days in Tamarindo: Day 20

Twenty days into the adventure already? I can hardly believe it. The concept of time feels different here than it does at home. Some days feel like we have been here forever and other days feel like we just arrived. I guess that's the interesting thing about time - you create it yourself. It's a man-made phenomena. Humans are the only species who think of a day as 24 hours and think of all things in relation to time. When we rid ourselves of this concept, our days escape us and the only notion of time we have left is the rising and setting of the sun we adventure under.

With the sun as our time keeper, we have been collecting adventures like seashells in a bag. One by one. Perfectly glossed and imperfectly flawed. Some adventures were everything we expected and others required some tender love and care. But all of them are worth looking back on.

On Saturday morning we packed a few snacks and some bottles of water and headed to the beach. Kayaking was the agenda for the day. We talked to one vendor who didn't have what we needed. He walked us to a shop that did. Two kayaks - a double and a single. Perfect for the three of us and our things. We haggled a bit, he threw in three sets of snorkel gear and we were off. We swerved through the boats anchored in the harbor and were on our way to the island covered in shells, and boy was it covered! Conch shells, all broken into smaller, spiral-looking pieces covered the island like a blanket. Walking on them almost felt wrong, like we were stepping on something sacred.

After we explored the island a bit and picked some shells to bring back home, we grabbed the snorkel gear and made our way into the water. The current was so strong we could literally just float in the water with our heads looking down and let the waves move us along. A snorkel tour in neutral, if you will. We saw bright blue fish, yellow striped fish, and schools of average looking, less exciting fish. Then it happened. After exploring a large area and gaping at the underwater clarity, we heard a gargle-muffled shriek. Niesha came above water, took the mouthpiece out and said, "I saw something cool and want to tell you, but I also kind of want to get out of the water. It's a sea snake."


Krysti and I looked at each other, then under the water and immediately pulled our feet to our chest, wading high above the ground and laughing at our fear. After looking for a few minutes, we didn't see the snake so we carried on with our exploration. It took about two minutes and BAM. Right in front of our faces was a fairly long, bright red and yellow sea snake. And instead of gaping at its awesomeness, we shrieked, choked on sea water and thrashed our arms and legs as if this thing was already attacking us. haha (Can you picture this?) As I am sure you can guess, we exited the water immediately and prepared for our trek back to the mainland. Like I said - an adventure that required some tender love and care, but one that we surely won't forget.

Other than our kayaking and snorkeling day, we have been pretty relaxed. We found a quaint little coffee shop we like with all hand-made, wood furniture and delicious cappuccinos. We found a restaurant with (so far) the best guacamole, salsa and chips in town. We have ventured to the quirky book store a handful of times to talk to Jim and read the books we picked out. While I am in the middle of two books on my Kindle App, I am currently reading the hard back version of Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. I am hooked. Between working at the hostel, completing my remote assignments for the agency at home and exploring, it seems like I am doing a pretty good job at setting aside some time to read and relax. When we finish the books, we can return them for half the price we bought them for in store credit for a new one. Pretty good system if you ask me. A few days ago we took our books (or sketch book in Niesha's case) to a new coffee shop, Cafe Tico. This coffee shop is all outdoor seating under a gazebo, which boasted perfect front row seats for the thunder storm that rolled in on our way. We enjoyed fresh fruit smoothies, listened to the thunder storm, read our books and sketched for two hours. It was a perfect way to spend our break. I have a feeling we will be back again soon. 

Today, after watching the beachside fireworks, we are heading to the Crazy Monkey for some dancing.  It won't be too late of a night, since our shuttle to Montezuma leaves at 7am. For Krysti's birthday we are headed to an even smaller town in Costa Rica for a weekend of relaxation and waterfall jumping! Photos, videos and a new blog to come, of course! 

Ps. Twenty days in and I have already added a nicely bronzed, sunscreen-protected layer to my skin. SCORE! Living la Pura Vida here, as we should be! :)

Let go.

I am telling myself that today will be the day I release from my mind, the poisonous things from my past that have undoubtably been making a home for the past year, imprisoning my will to live a life free of resentment and hatred. The deceitful trickery my mind has been duped with, trusting and believing my soul was free from malicious thoughts and feelings, will cease to exist, if and only if a valiant effort is made to free my mind of acrimony and focus on the positivity in my future.

90 Days in Tamarindo: Day 10

Here we are, ten days later, and we are starting to figure things out. We know the location of the businesses that we like to visit, which is a huge feat since there are no such things as addresses here; we know that when you are this close to the equator, one application of sunscreen isn't enough for an hour; we know that surfing can give you more bruises than kickboxing; and we know that even after multiple attempts with the broom, sweeping will never get rid of the sand in this hostel. 

It has been a wonderfully fun-filled ten days in Tamarindo. We attended Karaoke night at Sharky's (the most popular bar in Tamarindo) and we plan to return tonight for another round of song and dance. We partook in the national drink (Cacique Guaro) during Ladie's Night at Pacifico, a bar with neon lights, a fog machine and a homemade balance board on a roller that almost made me eat sand. 

We ventured to the other side of town for the best dance party on Friday nights at a place called Crazy Monkey. For the first few hours, a salsa and meringue band plays and the people move their hips smoothly. After a while, a DJ sets up shop and gets the people going with a slightly faster-paced, rasta-style set. Later into the night, the fist-pumping American songs surface and you'd be surprised how quickly the mixture of languages turns to English. It was at the Crazy Monkey that we met and danced with some crazy Canadians, who were nice enough to give us a ride back to the hostel and very loudly serenade us with the Canadian national anthem along the way. 

We attended a small bonfire on the beach and against all internal signs and signals saying, "NO," we waded into the water for a little night swim and our first experience of light-up plankton. That's right, if you move the water around, plankton appear in a bright, yellow-green color and then disappear. It was definitely worth the scare of the dark water. 

The most recent adventure was a full day in the sun. In the morning we had surf lessons with our hostel coworker. It is much harder than it looks but very rewarding when you stand up on the board! I never realized how tough you have to be to take the waves though. We were beaten up, bruised and Niesha came home with a busted lip, but we are absolutely going to try it again! After surfing we headed for the catamaran booze cruise, which, as the name states, was full of booze, Costa Rican food, snorkeling, swimming, and a beautiful sunset cruise back to the bay (pictured left). This is a tour company we suggest to our guests here at the hostel and after experiencing it ourselves, we are full supporters and promoters. 

A few extras: 

1. We found a quite little nook in the loft of a bookstore where we will probably spend quite a bit of time. Jim, the owner, has been here for almost 13 years after leaving his management position at a winery to follow his dream of owning a bookstore in paradise. He is interesting, full of stories, and is more than happy to offer the loft and a cup of joe for our reading pleasures. 

2. I am very tired of hearing "eyyy mami" in the street. It's a hot and humid beach town where 80% of the people here are in some form of a bikini top and shorts. It should not come as a surprise that I am too. Knock it off.  

90 Days in Tamarindo: Day 3

Buenos días from Tamarindo!

If you haven't already figured it out, we made it to the hostel safe and sound. We are in the beautiful city of Tamarinado, which is unfortunately full of tourism but fortunately still full of culture and beauty.  This small town boasts a mix of paved and unpaved roads, locals (Ticos) and tourists, mom and pop shops, tourist boutiques, hand made goodies, wildlife like you've never seen, and Subway. Yes, subway - the only American fast food chain here.

It's day three here and we have already experienced many notable cultural differences. First and foremost, the driving is horrendous. We were picked up from the airport by a friend of Shelley (co-owner of the hostel). Her name was Anne and she is from the States. She mentioned the drive time being "usually three and a half to four hours" but since we were driving with her, it would be much shorter. We laughed because we sometimes have led feet too and could relate.

This was just not the case.

We landed in San Jose around 7:50pm and arrived at the hostel around 11:30pm. This included deboarding the plane, going through customs, finding Anne, trying and failing to exit the underground car park a couple of times, and driving from San Jose to Tamarindo. Fast is an understatement.

The police here don't care about speed as much as they do having the correct registration stickers. Tailgating is a normal occurrence on Costa Rican roadways, as is passing the vehicles in front of you using the lane designated for traffic moving the other direction. Pedestrians do not have the right of way and it is not seen as a courtesy to slow down if a person happens to be in the street. If you are walking in the street and not paying attention, it is not uncommon to be involved in a hit and run accident. Accidents of this nature can happen anywhere due to the highly common occurrence of people walking in the street, on highways, alongside freeways and on unlit, curved roads in the middle of the night with nothing but dark skin and dark clothes to warn drivers. Yes, I'm serious. Apparently Costa Rica has the highest rate of pedestrian fatalities in the world. Sadly, it makes sense after being here for a day or two.

The map below can give you a better idea of the distance from San Jose to Tamarindo.

Another cultural difference to note is the dual currency system. While I am very grateful that the Ticos take Americans dollars, converting it to Colones is not the easiest thing to learn when giving change in the hostel. As a receptionist, we take American Dollars and Colones but always give change in Colones. The conversion rate at the bank is about 540 Colones to 1 Dollar. In the hostel, as well as most other local businesses, we convert it as 500 Colones to 1 Dollar. Locals know this already and most tourists are informed upon arrival. Nonetheless, my math skills when taking money and giving change are sub par compared to doing so when just one currency is involved. 

Another thing to note is the sheer abundance of offers for "blow" and "weed" on any given corner in Tamarindo. In just 30 minutes on the beach and on the way to the beach we were asked by four different people. The good news? Once you politely say "no, gracias" they stop asking and move on to the next potential buyer. Pura vida, eh?

Tamarindo has been great to us so far. I've been using Spanish more than I ever have before, going to the beach every day, meeting and making new friends from all over the world (yes, in just three days), and after walking from one side of town to the other, we are learning where everything is. We will see how we adapt as the time goes on. 

Hablar luego.

My Freakishly Fast Decision to Adventure to Costa Rica for 1/4 of the Year

With a recognized Type-A personality and a knack for planning and attention to detail, one would not assume I am very spontaneous. That is just not so.

In fact, I move to initiate a new personality trait descriptor which includes characteristics from both Type A and B personalities. However, since the English alphabet lacks a letter between A and B, I am unsure of what to name this new persona. Type A/B, Type A 1/2, Type -B? Those are starting to sound like blood types, so I digress.

The purpose behind bringing up personality types is this: with all the planning, details, calendar entries, and organization a Type-A person such as my self deals with, it would come as a highly unexpected surprise that I made the decision to sell my belongings, quit my job, leave my house and move to Costa Rica to volunteer at a hostel for three months with no plan as to what I will do when those three months are up. Additionally, this big decision and all of the smaller decisions that went along with it happened within four days. Yes, that's correct, four days. See? Highly unexpected.

The odd part about all of this unexpected, anti-Type-A, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants decision making, is that this choice was very easy for me. Aside from the initial reservations regarding safety, legitimacy of the business, and the "go-ahead" blessing from my parents, it was a no-brainer. Nothing was telling me not to take the opportunity.

So all within the span of four days, I pitched the idea to my friends, got them on-board, pitched the idea to my parents, got them somewhat on-board, researched the country as a whole as well as the city in which we will reside, had an in-depth conversation with the owner of the hostel and our soon-to-be volunteer coordinator, and made the firm decision to take a leap of faith.

So far, I have had no regrets about the decision and have been taking all of the necessary steps to make it go as smoothly as possible (can't hide the Type-A forever). I firmly believe I won't have any regrets in the future either. With a decision as easy as this one, and everything falling into place like it has, what is there to be regretful about?

Those of you who follow my blog might remember a post a while back about a panic attack that was self-induced by my freakishly fast decision to move to Spain. Rest assured this situation is different. Although I don't have a plan as to what I will do when my volunteer contract is up, I think the simple fact of knowing I am not "moving" to a new country is reassuring.

My freakishly fast decision to adventure to Costa Rica for a 1/4 of the year is nothing short of exciting. As of this moment, I can't wait to begin this next adventure, learn more about myself, immerse myself into the Costa Rican culture, and experience life as it comes.

Check back for new and exciting things coming to the blog (hint hint, changes are coming) and more stories as I prepare for and leave on my next adventure!

College Graduates Are Much Too Entitled

A friend of mine works for a childcare facility making minimum wage. She attends the local community college, paying for the classes, books and supplies on her own. Due to being denied scholarships and grants, she pays for her tuition via the payment plan offered by the school. She lives in a house with roommates and often struggles to pay her bills on time.

As I was browsing job listings in an effort to help her find a better paying job, I came across something that sincerely rattled my brain.

The position listed was a full time Administrative Assistant for an early childcare facility. It required occasional travel, as well as extra weekend hours for traveling and special events. Some duties included general office tasks like filing, answering phones, contacting applicants and sending and receiving applicant mail. In addition, accounting duties would be required such as payable requests, reimbursements, registry of expenditures, accounting spreadsheets, merchant account statements and related paperwork, monitoring purchases, mass mailings and more.

Due to these position requirements the education and experience requirements include childcare facility experience, accounting experience, administrative experience, as well as a bachelors degree in early childhood development, family studies, or a related degree path, all for the measly wage of $12 an hour.

Are you kidding me?

All too often I see companies looking to hire experienced, intelligent applicants who have a degree in a field related to the job listed. Although those preferences are not unrealistic, they are if the company is only willing to pay $12 per hour to hire an applicant with such qualifications.

The problem starts with a company listing a position with requirements like that of the childcare facility and stamping it with a value of $12 per hour. The problem then continues when a prospective employee accepts the position at the posted wage, signaling to other companies that offering such a low wage is acceptable.

The problem is due, in large part, to this idea that all students who graduate college immediately adopt an entitled mindset and attitude where they feel they are owed a larger sum of money than those who have not graduated college. And although there are a handful of people who fit this stereotype, it is not an accurate description of the group as a whole and the description is used much too loosely.

While I personally feel this problem affects more students than just the twenty-somethings, I am going to focus on the group of people who fit the twenty-something description for this discussion.

The graduated students of the Gen-Y or Millennial communities are no strangers to descriptors like lazy, entitled, and high-maintenence. Our hard working, ambitious generation has been unfairly labeled at the hands of a few.

Believe it or not, beyond those students who skate through college on their parents' dime, care more about their summer tans than their school grades and whose only contribution to the community was the philanthropic efforts led by their sororities or fraternities, are the students who work hard outside school, often times at more than one establishment, so they can continue working hard throughout their college career, gaining as much experience and knowledge as possible before they enter the post-graduate, working world.

Those students deserve more than an entitled label, undervalued wages and society's erroneously perceived value of their efforts. After all, it was the preceding generation who pushed us toward the collegiate path, often times without highlighting the dangers of student loans and degrees that lacked demand. Federal grants and loans allowed more students to attend college, and as fortunate as we were to have such opportunities, it severely reduced the value of a degree in addition to reducing the number of jobs in the midst of a financial crisis.

So, due to the lack of jobs, devalued degrees and an olympic-sized pool of applicants to choose from, students are being forced to accept low-paying jobs from companies that have a choice to fairly compensate their employees.

Is it truly laziness and entitled attitudes that earn us jobs with unfair wages? Sure, that may be true for some, but companies have a choice. We should not discount the current state of our economy and unfortunate circumstances these graduates were catapulted into, nor should we discount the hard work and dedication it took for these students to get to the job-seeker point despite those circumstances.

That is assuming a graduate can even find a job after obtaining that proverbial piece of paper. Graduates in today's society are faced with the prospect of not only earning wages below what their experience and education should garner, but of not being able to secure a job at all.

To quote a friend who discussed this same topic with me, "I do not feel entitled to a high paying job. I do, however, think that if I am told to work my ass off in college and do so, that I deserve a chance to prove my worth;" Our worth being defined by our individual efforts to succeed in the field we are working toward, not the perceived effort based on a generational stereotype.

According to an article published in the Huffington Post last summer, half of recent graduates are working jobs that don't require a degree, which is presumable related to the overall unemployment rate for recent graduates of 7.9%. These facts can be easily circled back to the olympic-sized pool of applicants I referred to earlier and the push our generation felt to walk down the collegiate path.

Now, some of you might be thinking "at least you have a job," or "$12 per hour is better than nothing," and you would be correct. However, with the rising costs of college tuition and the declining dollar amount of wages, many of the jobs these college-educated applicants are able to obtain are not worth the price of their degrees.

A January 2013 report by the Center for College Affordability and Productivity states that increasing numbers of college graduates are ending up in positions that require less than a four-year college education. In addition, about five million college graduates are in jobs that the Bureau of Labor Statistics says require less than a high school education.

How are college graduates suppose to cover the cost of their four-year education or pay off their student loans with wages from jobs that don't even require that education? Similarly, how are college graduates suppose to pay off those debts with unfair wages in the positions they worked so hard to obtain?

Employment, and everything needed to be offered employment, (education, experience, training, etc.) is not cheap, especially for Gen-Ys and Millennials. Those who put the work in should be compensated fairly.

Although I respect opposing opinions, please do not mistake this for an entitled rant about low wages and tough jobs. This is about working hard and earning our right to a position we deserve and making a fair wage.

Why I Hate the Gynecologist: Part 2

It was a normal day, just like any other, when my phone buzzed atop my desk. I picked it up and read the dreaded reminder I had set a few weeks prior: Gynecologist Appointment - 2 Hours.

Dammit. As if this week wasn't bad enough already, I now have to drop what I am doing (which has a deadline of basically yesterday) and drive across town to the visit the wahoo doctor. Although I switched doctors a while back, these appointments aren't any more appealing than giving a stranger a foot massage or sharing your toothbrush.

Anyway, as requested I showed up to my appointment 15 minutes early to complete the same paperwork I do every year. They claim that "things change" in a year and I silently think to myself, "yeah, well my hate for you and everyone in this office hasn't."

I smiled, sat down and completed the paperwork.

A woman opened the door that leads to the exam rooms and announced a name that I thought was "Katie." I have never been called back so quickly and was pleasantly surprised.

Another woman and I both stood up, looking quizzically at each other. The woman who opened the door said, in a very cheerful manner, "OH NO! Heidi?" Smiling very widely at us both, she wondered who would pull the short stick.

I did.

Looks like I've been listening to the Texan accent for far too long. Heidi sounds a whole lot like the Texas-accented "Katie." I returned to my seat. Looks like they are on their usual time schedule - late.

I scrolled through emails and messages as I waited to be called back. I was also doing kegels (or one really long kegel) in hopes of warding off a trip to the bathroom so I didn't miss my name being called - if they ever decided to call it.

"Katie."

FINALLY.

I walked through the door and the first thing I see is the scale. Crap. Should have gone to the bathroom.

I stepped on the scale, cursing at myself in my mind. This scale must be a magic, physicians-assistant-only scale because my weight appeared and she recorded it without me ever seeing it.

"Did it work or did I break it? haha!" ... She didn't think that was funny.

"It got your weight. You're 131."

EXCUSE ME. I have my boots on, a scarf and a full bladder so you can go ahead and remove 5 pounds. Seriously though.

For some reason I don't think she took me seriously.

We proceed to the exam room where she asks me if I need to use the restroom. I do. I excuse myself and release the two cups of coffee and one bottle of water that I had before the appointment. See - 5 pounds.

When I returned, she took my blood pressure and asked me the same questions that I just answered on the paperwork in the waiting room. I answered with a dull voice.

"This is so fun isn't it?"

I could tell she was being sarcastic but I still didn't appreciate it. No lady. This isn't fun. It's miserable. Is it fun asking patients if this is fun? Do you and your coworkers laugh about it on your lunch break?

Just for that, I'm leaving my socks on even though you told me to get completely undressed. Take that!

When she leaves I am left to sit there in the cold exam room, naked under the gown, thinking and having day terrors about what's going to happen when the doctor comes into the room.

Lucky for me, 45 minutes more minutes passed and the doctor was no where to be found. Frustrated, I stood up, got dressed and left the room. I walked out to the waiting room and up to the front desk, passing 4 employees on my way who all failed to realize I just walked out of the exam room they left me in.

I told the woman at the desk I needed to reschedule. Her response?

"Ok. Are you too early?"

I yelled at her in my mind. "No, broad! You checked me in an hour ago and I still have yet to be seen."

Although, in reality I said, "No, I have been waiting for an hour and can't miss anymore work. I'll need to call later because I don't have time to schedule something here. Please make sure I'm not billed."

I walked out. Frustrated that I drove across town, wasted my lunch hour and time I needed at work to complete projects. The worst part? Now I have to go back in a week or two.

It's just not right that the wahoo doctor can cause this much stress without even using the speculum.

I hate the gynecologist.


Alternate ending:

Katie storms out of the office, frustrated at the situation. On her way back to work, she has nothing to do but think.

You don't have to go to the wahoo doctor unless you have at least one sexual partner right? That means (in my case) a man attached to the equipment.

Hmm..

Before returning to work she stops at Susie's Adult Store and leaves with her new and improved equipment and a "take that wahoo doctor" kind of attitude!

Here's to the single life - a life of pure happiness and no gynecologist appointments.

Four ways to Focus Your Mind

If you are anything like me, your mind looks like an internet window with 2,356 tabs open at once, all the time. I am always thinking about something that needs to be done, someone I need to call, something that needs to be picked up, or sometimes I think about being anywhere other than where I am at the time of the thought. It's like a never ending to-do list and it stresses me out.

I wish I could shut my mind down for 24 hours - just 24 hours. Is that too much to ask? I would even settle with it being shut down for the 5-8 hours of sleep I get at night. That is, if you can call it sleep, when I am constantly waking up worrying about whatever is on my mind. It's not healthy. Not to mention, I get cranky when i'm tired and stressed. No one likes to see my cranky.

The worst part? When all of these things are on my mind, it's hard to focus on just one. (Go figure!) There have been times when I am mid-thought on one topic, my mind jumps to another one and I lose track of where I was in the original thought process.

Now, before I start to sound like I'm losing my mind, I understand there is a level of difficulty that comes with trying to completely free your mind of worries and thoughts, especially when you have legitimate things to worry and think about. Therefore, I have been trying to find ways to at least channel my thoughts and focus on one thing for as long as I feel necessary.

In the off chance there is anyone else out there dealing with something similar (my guess is most women), I am going to share them with you.

1. Write
Multiple studies have been linked to writing things down and better memory. Often times it seems that what is on my mind is something I either don't want to forget, or can't seem to get out of my mind, regardless of how hard I try. The act of writing something down, therefore, frees my mind from keeping it at the forefront of my thoughts because it is recorded elsewhere.

Think of it as mind deception. Even though you may not ever want to read that thought again, you are tricking yourself into thinking you will, at some point, be able to return to that thought, and you no longer need to keep it at the forefront of your mind. If it's something you do want to remember, you have it written down so that's possible without having to remember it in that moment.

Writing also helps focus my mind by challenging me to remain faithful to one topic. When writing about just one topic, all of the thoughts in the forefront of my mind must be related to said topic, therefore keeping me focused.

2. Exercise
"Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. Happy people don't shoot their husbands. They just don't."

Whether it be a walk around the neighborhood or an intense session of cardio kickboxing, exercise helps free and focus my mind. Generally, the slower-paced exercises help focus my mind and the intense workouts help free my mind. When I am in the middle of a kickboxing combination like jab, cross, low kick, high kick, I think about nothing other than mastering the combination to the best of my ability. When I am walking at a nice, slow pace, enjoying the scenery and taking nice, even breaths, my mind slows down with me. I guess this is why I am going to try yoga. Yes - I said it. I am going to try relaxing with yoga. I have always thought of it as something you need extreme patience for, and since I severely lack that virtue, I never mustered up the courage to try it. I have heard it does wonders for the mind though, so it is on my to-do list. (…irony?)

3. Talk to a Friend
As long as you have a friend who is a good listener, this is a must have tool in your mind-focusing box. Talking to friends helps me let off steam, laugh about things I thought I wanted to cry about, gain an outside perspective, hear advice and above all, it comforts me knowing someone is willing to listen. Having someone who is willing to listen to the stresses of your life (and who is willing to share their stresses with you, in hopes of also having someone to listen) is one of the greatest gifts. I call it friend therapy. It's cheaper than clinical therapy and better for your soul. I am lucky enough to have a few absolutely wonderful, therapeutic friends to talk to.

4. Listen to Music and Sing Along
This one is simply awesome because if the music is loud enough, and I throw in some dance moves, I can hardly hear myself think. A slightly less-effective, but fun way to clear my mind.

If You're a Bird, I'm a Bird

"I always wonder why birds stay in the same place when they can fly anywhere on the earth. Then I ask myself the same question." - Harun Yahya

I started saying "I caught the travel bug," but now I think i'll just call myself a bird. I can fly anywhere on earth, see all the sights I've dreamed of seeing, and return home if and when I want.

I daydream about travel all the time - probably more so than I should. I think about where I should go next, what kinds of things I can do once I am there and what it will take to get me there.

I dream up ideas, big and small, and make a mental note to add them to the list. I contemplate the idea of traveling alone or with friends. Depending on the location, both options can work. I've traveled alone before and am more than OK with doing it again. I am, however, conscious of my safety and do take that into consideration.

Although, when considering travel partners, it seems like I am the only one who doesn't have something tying me down. Rather, it seems I am the only one who won't let anything tie me down.

I've talked to numerous friends about travel plans and all to often I hear the response "I would love to, but I can't," followed by some explanation as to why they are unable to accompany me or to take trips of their own. Some of these explanations I understand and others I do not. To each their own.

I use to say "I can't," as well. When I stopped saying it, I booked my flight to Paris and began my European backpacking adventure. It was almost as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. A weight that had been keeping me from doing anything outside the norm. The norm being work, school, life in Reno (or one's respective city), the constant ebbs and flows of life being lived in a singular place.

When I made that first purchase, a spark lit up inside me. The gears in mind started turning and I thought to myself, "Why did I ever feel like these things were impossible? Why did I ever think that this particular piece of what I wanted in life was out of reach?"

Aside from financial or physical restrictions, this little birdy can't comprehend what would disable someone from getting exactly what they want out of life. Don't get me wrong - I do understand there are many reasons as to why one might not be able to travel, however most of the time, the reasons are things that can seemingly be overcome.

Personally, it was fear that was holding me back. Fear of doing something outside the boundaries I was generally comfortable with. Fear of change. Fear of the unknown (what may or may not happen while traveling). Fear of financial stability once the adventure ended.

Once I let go of that fear and realized "I can" travel, I can go on adventures, I can live life in more places than just my comfort zone, I did. And, I plan to do it again.

This doesn't mean that I am going to quit my job today and become a travel blogger who the followers know as Nomadic Katie (not that a job title and job description like that wouldn't rock my world), but it does mean that I am not going to let anything keep me from my dreams of travel and adventure. Not money, not a job, not a man, not anything. Even if it starts to seem like it can't be done, it can. Nothing is impossible, the word itself says "possible."

"A bird sitting on a tree is never afraid of the branch breaking because her trust is not in the branch, but in her own wings. Believe in yourself."

Professional Courtesy: An Open Letter to Business Professionals, Higher-Ups, and Gen-Xers

Dear Business Professionals, Higher-Ups and Gen-Xers,

In a world where Gen Y's, or millennials, are largely looked down upon, criticized and attacked for their laziness, entitled attitudes and lack of hard work, it is highly important that you remember that you were once a twenty-something too.

I don't intend for this letter to be a rant about how millennials have been dealt a bad hand with regards to the economy and job availability. No, this letter is much more than that. This letter is about professional courtesy and how everyone, millennials, gen-Xers, secretaries, CEO's, construction workers, and business owners alike, all deserve professional courtesy and respect. 

In order to truly understand my frustration and stance on the subject, it would be helpful to know what I have been through. 

I was recently on the receiving end of a sincere lack of respect and professional courtesy from a business professional who is fairly high up in his company. This person has a resume with a wealth of experience and knowledge that would appeal to most businesses in his industry. 

After learning about his hard work and dedication to the industry, I was immediately overcome with respect and admiration. I too plan to work hard and dedicate myself to cultivating my passions. Seeing an example of exactly how this type of hard work can pay off was inspiring.

Unfortunately, with a resume like his and the empowerment that presumably comes from his current title, comes an attitude that screams, "I am better than you" and "you are not worth my time."

In fact, I am worth so little of his time that after dedicating a great amount of my time, energy and passion into his questions and inquiries, I waited seven weeks for a response. Seven weeks.

When I finally received an email, I was shocked, to say the least. When I opened it and read the first few words, I was bewildered. 

"As a professional courtesy, I wanted to make sure I got back to you."

First of all, I believe the window for his so called "professional courtesy" had passed. However, since I truly do respect him, appreciate his time, and would like to remain professional, I didn't bother to mention his obvious lack of professional courtesy and instead I responded respectfully.

I must also mention that in his response email, he asked that I stay in touch with him. Interesting.

I responded one last time. In that response, I thanked him for getting back to me, wished him luck in the new year and asked him one last, simple question relating to the topic at hand. 

I am now approaching day 11 with no response, yet again. Go figure.

Although I understand the demands of the industry and how busy a professional of his level can be, I find his behavior toward me, and his complete disregard for my time, rude and unprofessional. 

Coming from someone with as much experience as him, you would think he should understand what it means to be in search of a career that fulfills one's dreams and ambitions. He should understand the value in someone like me seeking advice from someone who has so much to share. He should understand what it takes - the hard work, the time, the extra effort put into each and every related endeavor. 

For someone who also had to, presumably, work his way up from the bottom, he displays a sincere lack of respect for the hard work, time and effort put in by those of us who are still working our way into the industry. It's not easy and at times, it's uncomfortable. 

In a world where we are surrounded by technology, it doesn't seem like it would be too hard to find just one minute to pick up the phone, to turn on that iPad, to open a web browser and send a quick message to someone who has put so much time and effort into reaching out to you. 

Unfortunately, this is not the first time I have heard of or encountered such behavior from professionals who have been in the "working world" longer than me. In fact, I have had similar experiences with folks who have only been doing their jobs for a few years. Regardless, those few years are a few more than I have under my belt, therefore the behavior is justified, right? Wrong. 

It's about respect. It's about professional courtesy. It's about consideration. 

So please, business professionals, higher-ups and gen-xers, if someone - anyone - has taken the time and put in the effort to do something for you or your company, do not blow them off. Give them the respect they deserve, be considerate of what they had to do and the time they put into doing it, and display some professional courtesy. 

After all, the young ones, those of us just starting out, are the future.

Sincerely, 

A frustrated, yet ever-so-motivated, twenty-something

Insecurities - A Slam Poetry Piece

The actions of a few effect more than just the actors.

The harmless talks and meets and greets are more than simple factors.

The time and depth and devotion and emotion that was shared and reciprocated, 

is the reason every inch of me, every aspect of me, my mind, body and soul is becoming hated.

And questioned, 

and second guessed 

and stressed to be better. 

The wonder of why and how could it be, constantly invading me. 

What did she have that I wasn't giving? 

Why was the secret life better than what we were living?

I catapulted myself into a world where size is no longer just a number. 

It's an evaluation of worth and I'm my own discounter. 

At the hands of another woman I now have myself to compare, 

and nothing lives up to any standards that are fair. 

Because when comparing myself to her, my personality must be perfect. 

My life must be more balanced. But if you ask me, 

I'm tired of my hands being callused. 

Callused of wiping my own tears and holding my own hand, 

when what I was supposed to have was a man. 

A man to stand beside me and help me to be better, 

but instead I was unknowingly competing for the letter. 

The title. The loyalty.

The lasting, trusting endeavor, where him and I could be in this together. 

The competition lasted long and the emotions were on high. 

If I had only known about the race I was running, 

I could have stopped questioning our demise. 

Because what was wrong was not a two way street, 

no, to me the wrongs were being done by me. 

Questions constantly came to my mind:

What am I doing to push you so far? 

Why isn't this working? I am trying so hard!

Now even months later, not many things have changed. 

I'm still working hard to please

the person who has been pushed off so far, 

too far to be at ease. 

At ease with herself, just as whole as she is, 

without questioning every minute, 

why a woman on the side stole the attention of his. 

So as this journey continues and I move to make things right,

I will make sure to show them that I don't go down without a fight.

My confidence may have been dented 

and my heart hurt beyond believed ability,

but the pain and aches and questions and cries

will lead me back to being,

a woman without insecurities.