Before I reply, let me show you what advice I was given:
"NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! DON'T LISTEN TO YOUR HEART AND
LOGIC! THEY ARE DUMB!!! YOU HAVE TO GO WITH YOUR DREAMS AND GO TO
CHICAGO!YOU KNOW WHAT I WOULD DO TO GO TO CHICAGO? I WOULD GO
FIND SOME POOR BLOKE AND CUT OFF HIS HANDS FOR THAT CHANCE!
(probably not, but you the picture) SO YEAH, YOU NEED TO GO!!!"
Well, if things keep going the way they're going, I'm pretty sure I will. I'm pretty confident that if my parents leave Louisiana, I will too. I know I could handle being in Louisiana without them, but I don't really want to. I want to be close enough that if anything happens on either end that I can get there without a lot of trouble. I want to be able to surprise them with visits and vise-versa. I know I have a lot of support from my sisters and my friends, but it's not the same as having family close by.
I still haven't made a firm decision, but there are more things that are seeming to pull me from Louisiana, and I guess I just have to wait and see where this takes me.
Amber Marie
Monday, January 30, 2012
Thursday, January 26, 2012
General rambling about decisions and pros and cons...the usual
Over winter break, if you were to ask me if I was going to be in Chicago for the fall 2012 semester, the answer most likely would have been yes. Fast forward six weeks later, the answer's not nearly as certain. After slipping back into the swing of things with DZ and friends and school in general, everything feels right. This is what I'm supposed to be doing, and this is where I'm supposed to be. There are so many things that I would be leaving behind that I really don't know if I could desert. Delta Zeta (the bond & connections), the BCM (Baptist Collegiate Ministry) where I've been getting my spiritual nourishment, the small town homey feel, and the people. I think the people might be the hardest to leave behind. There are so many that I would miss. Certain ones who would be sad and maybe even hurt if I left. I know that a few would be happy to see me pursuing something that I truly want to do, but I still feel like there's a bond that I can't just walk away from.
There's a rational part of me that thinks that if I do go to Chicago and it doesn't work out that I may be embarking on the biggest mistake of my life. How could I ever overcome that? What if I go to Chicago for a semester and realize film isn't what I want to do with my life? What if I thrive in the film department, but then I can't find a job? What if? What if? And this part of me wonders why I would even consider transferring if there are so many ways this can play out, and it could end with some not so pleasant circumstances. This part of me wants me to find some absolute that will keep me where I am, in the field I'm in, and just be done. This part of me also asks, how can you leave your sisters after one year? How can you leave your best friends behind? How can you leave the place you have called home for most of your life?
On the other end of the spectrum, there's a part of me that plays the other what if game. What if I don't even pursue film as an option? Then I have even more questions in the future because when I look back I will ask: What if I had gone to Chicago? What if I'd made it in the film industry? How could my life have been different? Where would I be now? This part of me uses the rationalization that in two more years I'll be graduating and leaving this place and these people anyway. My family will most likely be leaving before the year is up, and why shouldn't I go with them. It's only two years.
And with all of this still going back in forth in my head, I took the next step toward the possibility of going to Chicago. I completed, submitted, and paid for my application to transfer to Columbia College Chicago. I still have to submit my school forms, transcripts, etc. And there will be phones calls to Columbia's admissions and financial aid departments. And who knows what else I will have to do. I am still no where near making a decision, but at the same time, I am one step closer to making the decision.
Thank you for bearing with me while I ramble around in circles about this situation. I just need somewhere where I can put this all down for future reference. And maybe I'll get somewhere in the decision making process.
You'll definitely hear more later. :)
Bye for now,
Amber Marie
There's a rational part of me that thinks that if I do go to Chicago and it doesn't work out that I may be embarking on the biggest mistake of my life. How could I ever overcome that? What if I go to Chicago for a semester and realize film isn't what I want to do with my life? What if I thrive in the film department, but then I can't find a job? What if? What if? And this part of me wonders why I would even consider transferring if there are so many ways this can play out, and it could end with some not so pleasant circumstances. This part of me wants me to find some absolute that will keep me where I am, in the field I'm in, and just be done. This part of me also asks, how can you leave your sisters after one year? How can you leave your best friends behind? How can you leave the place you have called home for most of your life?
On the other end of the spectrum, there's a part of me that plays the other what if game. What if I don't even pursue film as an option? Then I have even more questions in the future because when I look back I will ask: What if I had gone to Chicago? What if I'd made it in the film industry? How could my life have been different? Where would I be now? This part of me uses the rationalization that in two more years I'll be graduating and leaving this place and these people anyway. My family will most likely be leaving before the year is up, and why shouldn't I go with them. It's only two years.
And with all of this still going back in forth in my head, I took the next step toward the possibility of going to Chicago. I completed, submitted, and paid for my application to transfer to Columbia College Chicago. I still have to submit my school forms, transcripts, etc. And there will be phones calls to Columbia's admissions and financial aid departments. And who knows what else I will have to do. I am still no where near making a decision, but at the same time, I am one step closer to making the decision.
Thank you for bearing with me while I ramble around in circles about this situation. I just need somewhere where I can put this all down for future reference. And maybe I'll get somewhere in the decision making process.
You'll definitely hear more later. :)
Bye for now,
Amber Marie
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Decisions, Decisions
Yup, I'm back on the life-changing decision to move 937 miles away from the place I called my home for practically my entire life, change majors to film, which is not the stablest of career choices, and changing schools and leaving friends behind.
I've already brought the topic up to my best friend, though it wasn't the first time I'd brought it up to her. Now, I have to decide how to bring it up to my DZ big sis. I don't want her to think I'm abandoning her. There are so many things that are a part of the decision, and it's hard. I mean, my dad just told me that he's looking into job openings at the Nestle plant in Indianapolis. That's an even bigger step towards my family leaving Louisiana than I imagined would happen in at this point. He hasn't even gotten a notice that he's going to be laid off. But this is huge. He's planning. Now, I feel like I have to move my plans along too. And that's a lot of pressure. I mean, I just got appointed to 3rd guard for DZ, which includes a role in initiation, but if I leave, they'll have to replace me. I had no clue when I applied for that position that I might not be back next fall. I've made so many friends, and I don't want to just leave. But, I also have to consider what's best for my family and for me. But right now, sitting in the apartment I share with my best friend and big sis, I don't really know what's best for me. I can see myself both in where I am, and in Chicago. But what I can't see is myself as a psychologist. I don't know what took that vision away, but I don't see myself being happy with that career path. If I continue on that path, I see myself asking all of the what if questions. I don't like what I see. But the film career path seems like a fantasy. I'm sure I don't even know what hardships could await me on that path.
I'm almost scared to admit it, but at this point, I think I'm taking on the mentality that I'm young and now is the time to make mistakes. So we'll see where this takes me. Ugh, being an adult sucks! Why can't my parents just tell me what to do like they did for the first eighteen years of my life!?
Oh, well. I'll be back with more, I promise.
Bye for now,
Amber Marie
I've already brought the topic up to my best friend, though it wasn't the first time I'd brought it up to her. Now, I have to decide how to bring it up to my DZ big sis. I don't want her to think I'm abandoning her. There are so many things that are a part of the decision, and it's hard. I mean, my dad just told me that he's looking into job openings at the Nestle plant in Indianapolis. That's an even bigger step towards my family leaving Louisiana than I imagined would happen in at this point. He hasn't even gotten a notice that he's going to be laid off. But this is huge. He's planning. Now, I feel like I have to move my plans along too. And that's a lot of pressure. I mean, I just got appointed to 3rd guard for DZ, which includes a role in initiation, but if I leave, they'll have to replace me. I had no clue when I applied for that position that I might not be back next fall. I've made so many friends, and I don't want to just leave. But, I also have to consider what's best for my family and for me. But right now, sitting in the apartment I share with my best friend and big sis, I don't really know what's best for me. I can see myself both in where I am, and in Chicago. But what I can't see is myself as a psychologist. I don't know what took that vision away, but I don't see myself being happy with that career path. If I continue on that path, I see myself asking all of the what if questions. I don't like what I see. But the film career path seems like a fantasy. I'm sure I don't even know what hardships could await me on that path.
I'm almost scared to admit it, but at this point, I think I'm taking on the mentality that I'm young and now is the time to make mistakes. So we'll see where this takes me. Ugh, being an adult sucks! Why can't my parents just tell me what to do like they did for the first eighteen years of my life!?
Oh, well. I'll be back with more, I promise.
Bye for now,
Amber Marie
Friday, January 13, 2012
Tennessee
Okay, so I've put it off for a week, but it's time.
Last week my family and I were in Tennessee for my uncle's funeral (my dad's younger brother). We left Wednesday evening. It took us about eight hours to get there. We got there around 12:45 am. We stayed in Nashville at my aunt's house (my dad's older sister). Well, my parents and grandparents did. My aunt took Ash and I to a hotel since all seven of us were not going to be able to sleep in her house.
Anyway, Thursday was just kind of a chill day. We didn't do much.
Friday was the funeral. We had to be in Murfreesboro (where my uncle lived and the funeral was) for 11:30 Friday morning. We didn't know exactly how to get there, so we were following my aunt. Well, one thing about my aunt, she has a lead foot. So even though we were supposed to be following her, she takes off on the highway. So, my dad, trying to catch up with her, slams on the gas. Well, not even a mile onto the highway, we pass a cop, and guess who gets pulled over. 72 in a 55. Yeah, great way to start off the day, right? So, I'm riding shotgun, and my mom is in the back seat with my sister. We pull over, and my mom is freaking out because she doesn't have her seat belt on. She pulling and pulling and it keeps locking up. Well, if you pull too hard, it locks. She was too wired to pull it slowly. Anyway, because of how the shoulder was at this part of the highway, the cop had to come up to my window. I texted my aunt as soon as we pulled over, and she called me right when the cop walks up to my window. I try to ignore it, and I actually answer it. Apparently, all my aunt heard before I managed to hang it up was the cop saying, "Metro Police." So, my aunt tells my grandma, who's riding with her, and she starts freaking out. My dad explains to the cop that we are going to his brother's funeral, and we didn't know where we were going. My mom is nearly in tears in the backseat. The cop takes my dad's license and paperwork, and goes back to his car. My dad calls my aunt and tells her what's going on. My aunt (who ended up with this small twig in her car when she had to go back home to get her phone and she'd parked too close to the trees by her house) hangs up with my dad and tells my grandma that she gets to use the twig as a switch on my dad for getting pulled over, and send my grandma into a laughing fit. The cop comes back and gives my dad a verbal warning and tells him to slow down. (Yay, no ticket!) So of course, once we get to the funeral home, the story gets told over and over and over, and never gets any less funny.
**THIS PART IS ABOUT THE FUNERAL HOME, AND IT WILL BE FULL OF SADNESS, REGRET, AND ANGER. YOU CAN SKIP THIS PART. I REALLY NEED TO VENT.**
So we had to be at the funeral home at 11:30 because we got a special family viewing before all the other people showed up. Up until this point, I'd only cried once over my uncle's death and that was when my dad told me he died. I was okay when we first walked into the chapel. I was okay when I saw my uncle in the open casket. I wasn't okay when I saw the only picture of my sister and I on the poster board that said "Kind & Caring Uncle" was a picture from his wedding when Ashley and I were 5 & 7. There we about 20 other pictures of him with his other nieces and nephews on his wife's side. But the only picture of his brother's daughter's was 11 1/2 years old. We'd sent him newer pictures, but that's the one we got. I saw it, and I lost it. I walked out of the chapel, and cried. I couldn't stop it. I didn't want to. I wanted to be selfish. I didn't want to be strong for my grandma, my dad, my aunt. I had so many questions in my head. Why is that the only picture they had of us? Why hadn't I seen him in 11 1/2 years? Why was there always an excuse from him for why we couldn't see him? I didn't take long for my mom to come and talk to me. All I wanted was to be alone, but that wasn't going to happen.
I was mad because I hadn't seen him for 11 1/2 years.
I was mad because I didn't really know him.
I was mad because I didn't really remember him.
I was mad because I am never going to get a chance to know him.
I was mad because either he chose to remember me as a 7-year-old to make himself feel better for not seeing Ashley and I since his wedding or he didn't realize that I was 19 years old, and he missed most of my life.
I was mad because he obviously spent a lot of time with his other nieces and nephews, but where was the time for us?
I am mad because I still feel all of this, and I don't know what to do about it.
And now, I'm crying again. Exactly why I waited a this long to write this. I can't do this anymore. I'm moving on.
My aunt came to talk to me. She told me that the picture wasn't put there to hurt me. It wasn't there to make me feel bad. It was there because he cared about Ash and me. It was there because it was a happy memory we shared. But I couldn't see it. Every time I looked at it throughout the visitation hours and funeral, I had to look away. That picture represented the extent of our relationship. I was his junior bridesmaid and Ashley was his flower girl, and that's as far as we made it. Maybe we got a phone call on our birthday. And every time I saw that picture all of those feelings came back.
**OKAY I'M DONE!**
Other than my breakdown, the funeral went at well as it could. There was a short grave site service and then we headed back to Nashville.
Saturday was an early morning. We left Nashville and headed home. We took nearly 12 hours to get home because we could, stopping when we wanted. And hey, we got see the end of the Saints game!
So, yeah, that was Tennessee.
-sigh-
Bye for now,
Amber Marie
Last week my family and I were in Tennessee for my uncle's funeral (my dad's younger brother). We left Wednesday evening. It took us about eight hours to get there. We got there around 12:45 am. We stayed in Nashville at my aunt's house (my dad's older sister). Well, my parents and grandparents did. My aunt took Ash and I to a hotel since all seven of us were not going to be able to sleep in her house.
Anyway, Thursday was just kind of a chill day. We didn't do much.
Friday was the funeral. We had to be in Murfreesboro (where my uncle lived and the funeral was) for 11:30 Friday morning. We didn't know exactly how to get there, so we were following my aunt. Well, one thing about my aunt, she has a lead foot. So even though we were supposed to be following her, she takes off on the highway. So, my dad, trying to catch up with her, slams on the gas. Well, not even a mile onto the highway, we pass a cop, and guess who gets pulled over. 72 in a 55. Yeah, great way to start off the day, right? So, I'm riding shotgun, and my mom is in the back seat with my sister. We pull over, and my mom is freaking out because she doesn't have her seat belt on. She pulling and pulling and it keeps locking up. Well, if you pull too hard, it locks. She was too wired to pull it slowly. Anyway, because of how the shoulder was at this part of the highway, the cop had to come up to my window. I texted my aunt as soon as we pulled over, and she called me right when the cop walks up to my window. I try to ignore it, and I actually answer it. Apparently, all my aunt heard before I managed to hang it up was the cop saying, "Metro Police." So, my aunt tells my grandma, who's riding with her, and she starts freaking out. My dad explains to the cop that we are going to his brother's funeral, and we didn't know where we were going. My mom is nearly in tears in the backseat. The cop takes my dad's license and paperwork, and goes back to his car. My dad calls my aunt and tells her what's going on. My aunt (who ended up with this small twig in her car when she had to go back home to get her phone and she'd parked too close to the trees by her house) hangs up with my dad and tells my grandma that she gets to use the twig as a switch on my dad for getting pulled over, and send my grandma into a laughing fit. The cop comes back and gives my dad a verbal warning and tells him to slow down. (Yay, no ticket!) So of course, once we get to the funeral home, the story gets told over and over and over, and never gets any less funny.
**THIS PART IS ABOUT THE FUNERAL HOME, AND IT WILL BE FULL OF SADNESS, REGRET, AND ANGER. YOU CAN SKIP THIS PART. I REALLY NEED TO VENT.**
So we had to be at the funeral home at 11:30 because we got a special family viewing before all the other people showed up. Up until this point, I'd only cried once over my uncle's death and that was when my dad told me he died. I was okay when we first walked into the chapel. I was okay when I saw my uncle in the open casket. I wasn't okay when I saw the only picture of my sister and I on the poster board that said "Kind & Caring Uncle" was a picture from his wedding when Ashley and I were 5 & 7. There we about 20 other pictures of him with his other nieces and nephews on his wife's side. But the only picture of his brother's daughter's was 11 1/2 years old. We'd sent him newer pictures, but that's the one we got. I saw it, and I lost it. I walked out of the chapel, and cried. I couldn't stop it. I didn't want to. I wanted to be selfish. I didn't want to be strong for my grandma, my dad, my aunt. I had so many questions in my head. Why is that the only picture they had of us? Why hadn't I seen him in 11 1/2 years? Why was there always an excuse from him for why we couldn't see him? I didn't take long for my mom to come and talk to me. All I wanted was to be alone, but that wasn't going to happen.
I was mad because I hadn't seen him for 11 1/2 years.
I was mad because I didn't really know him.
I was mad because I didn't really remember him.
I was mad because I am never going to get a chance to know him.
I was mad because either he chose to remember me as a 7-year-old to make himself feel better for not seeing Ashley and I since his wedding or he didn't realize that I was 19 years old, and he missed most of my life.
I was mad because he obviously spent a lot of time with his other nieces and nephews, but where was the time for us?
I am mad because I still feel all of this, and I don't know what to do about it.
And now, I'm crying again. Exactly why I waited a this long to write this. I can't do this anymore. I'm moving on.
My aunt came to talk to me. She told me that the picture wasn't put there to hurt me. It wasn't there to make me feel bad. It was there because he cared about Ash and me. It was there because it was a happy memory we shared. But I couldn't see it. Every time I looked at it throughout the visitation hours and funeral, I had to look away. That picture represented the extent of our relationship. I was his junior bridesmaid and Ashley was his flower girl, and that's as far as we made it. Maybe we got a phone call on our birthday. And every time I saw that picture all of those feelings came back.
**OKAY I'M DONE!**
Other than my breakdown, the funeral went at well as it could. There was a short grave site service and then we headed back to Nashville.
Saturday was an early morning. We left Nashville and headed home. We took nearly 12 hours to get home because we could, stopping when we wanted. And hey, we got see the end of the Saints game!
So, yeah, that was Tennessee.
-sigh-
Bye for now,
Amber Marie
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Long week ahead...
My dad's younger brother died about 24 hours ago. He had cystic fibrosis, and he'd been really sick lately. At least he went peacefully in his sleep. He was 34. His funeral is on Friday in near Nashville. So Wednesday evening, after my mom gets off of work at around 4:30, we will be heading to Tennessee. We'll stay at my dad's older sister's apartment. We'll be there until Saturday. We have a lot of things to do tomorrow, but I can't seem to want to fall asleep. This is not the greatest way to start a new year. I sure hope 2012 doesn't follow in the footsteps of this first week.
So about my uncle...first of all I haven't seen him since his wedding which was in May of 2000. Yeah, 2000. 11 1/2 years ago. There's a lot of unsettled family drama that I know basically nothing about and probably shouldn't post even if I did, which is part of the reason I haven't seen him since I was 8. (This family drama is going to add to this long week...) So when I cried this morning, I found myself wondering why. I came to the conclusion, over the course of today, that I cried because I knew my family was hurting, not because I was hurt. Honestly, and it's sad to admit, I didn't know the man. I haven't seen him since I was 8, and it's been hit and miss communication on birthdays. I'm pretty sure he missed at least half over the past 11 years. And that really doesn't bother me. And that's what bothers me. I don't really feel a loss right now. I cried this morning because my aunt had to drive from Nashville to Indianapolis to tell her parents that their son was dead. I cried because my grandma and my grandpa had to hear that their son died before they did. I know my grandma and I knew that this news would literally kill her inside. There was so much tension and anger on both sides of that relationship, and now he's gone, and she can't try to fix it anymore. There's a but more that I won't say here about my grandpa and his hurt, but I knew that this would affect him in a different, yet equally painful way. I know that I will probably be hit with a range of emotions when Friday comes, but I have a feeling it'll be me hurting because people that I love, who actually knew him, are hurting, and not because I am hurting over the loss. I feel bad for not feeling like I lost a family member, but it almost feels like he wasn't a part of my family because he basically hasn't been a part of my life since I was 8.
I don't know where this leaves me. Yes, I lost an uncle. Yes, I am sad. Yes, it's a stressful time. But, I just feel like I should be a bit more sad, or upset, and I'm just not.
Anyway, you can expect more about this week as it occurs, or at the very least a post on Saturday or Sunday summarizing the week. I'm afraid my blog won't be nearly as optimistic as my last post. Sorry, just not a very optimistic week.
Love,
Amber Marie
So about my uncle...first of all I haven't seen him since his wedding which was in May of 2000. Yeah, 2000. 11 1/2 years ago. There's a lot of unsettled family drama that I know basically nothing about and probably shouldn't post even if I did, which is part of the reason I haven't seen him since I was 8. (This family drama is going to add to this long week...) So when I cried this morning, I found myself wondering why. I came to the conclusion, over the course of today, that I cried because I knew my family was hurting, not because I was hurt. Honestly, and it's sad to admit, I didn't know the man. I haven't seen him since I was 8, and it's been hit and miss communication on birthdays. I'm pretty sure he missed at least half over the past 11 years. And that really doesn't bother me. And that's what bothers me. I don't really feel a loss right now. I cried this morning because my aunt had to drive from Nashville to Indianapolis to tell her parents that their son was dead. I cried because my grandma and my grandpa had to hear that their son died before they did. I know my grandma and I knew that this news would literally kill her inside. There was so much tension and anger on both sides of that relationship, and now he's gone, and she can't try to fix it anymore. There's a but more that I won't say here about my grandpa and his hurt, but I knew that this would affect him in a different, yet equally painful way. I know that I will probably be hit with a range of emotions when Friday comes, but I have a feeling it'll be me hurting because people that I love, who actually knew him, are hurting, and not because I am hurting over the loss. I feel bad for not feeling like I lost a family member, but it almost feels like he wasn't a part of my family because he basically hasn't been a part of my life since I was 8.
I don't know where this leaves me. Yes, I lost an uncle. Yes, I am sad. Yes, it's a stressful time. But, I just feel like I should be a bit more sad, or upset, and I'm just not.
Anyway, you can expect more about this week as it occurs, or at the very least a post on Saturday or Sunday summarizing the week. I'm afraid my blog won't be nearly as optimistic as my last post. Sorry, just not a very optimistic week.
Love,
Amber Marie
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)