PFSing

First of all, let me explain for those of you who don't know what PFSing is. It was coined (as far as I know) by my pastor back in Missouri, Ron Case. It stands for "Preferred Future Status/State." PFSing occurs when, no matter where you are in life, you feel like you need to be at the some point other than where you are.
About two months ago, I was laying in bed, wide awake, while my husband was sleeping soundly. I don't remember exactly what it was I was thinking about--perhaps it was kids, saving money, vacation, being done with the Army, as these are things that I think about regularly--and it suddenly struck me. I was PFSing pretty bad. None of those things are bad things to think about, but I realized that night that just a month earlier, all I could think about was getting married . . . if ony we were married, etc. etc. And before that, after we got engaged, I just wanted to be in Pennsylvania closer to him. And before that, I just wanted it to be July (when I actually got engaged, though I didn't know it was coming then).
I realize that there's nothing wrong with any of these things, or hoping for and anticipating them. But there's a difference between looking forward to things and wishing they were here now so "everything will be better." It makes me think of the country song, "You're gonna miss this, you're gonna want this back, you're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast. These are some good times, so take a good look around. You may not know it now, but you're gonna miss this."
Since that night, not a lot has changed in my world. Tom's STILL in the army, I'm not pregnant, our financial situation isn't drastically different than it was then, we still haven't gotten to go on a real vacation (at least not together...). But my perspective is a LOT different than it was. I can't say that I've been content every minute since then, but contentness is my goal. Once I diagnosed the problem, I realize so much more that there's no reason to always want to rush into the next stage in life, whatever that may be. You'll probably still even hear me say sometimes that I can't wait to have kids or I would love to be done with the army. And both are true! But I'm no longer living with those things being the goal.
Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with having goals in life. But if those goals are making you lose perspective and contentment, perhaps it's time to reevaluate. What's wrong with my life right now? Almost nothing. And if I'm focusing on the things that aren't perfect, it's really probably just going to make me miserable along the way. I know it's cliche, but life's too short for that garbage. Life is good.
I've challenged myself recently--when people ask how I am, I try to respond (truthfully) with "Life is good!" It's been a little difficult, though it doesn't sound like it should. There's always something to complain about. It's in my nature to find that/those things. I'm pretty pessimistic at times (shocker, I know...). But when I can smile and say, "Life is good!" and mean it, more often than not I'll get a smile back and a response somewhere along the lines of, "It is, isn't it?" Sometimes I'll get a negative or sarcastic answer, but the more positive I am, the more positive people around me seem to be.
I imagine a lot of this sounds pretty common sense and simplistic to some of you, but these have been some of my ponderings lately. :)

A pet peeve of mine...one of many...

The thing I would like to discuss with you today is something that has affected me numerous times throughout my life. It's something that is both directly tied to our selfish human natures, and infinitely annoying to most of the people I've talked to about it. It's something I am guilty of, and I'm certain every one of you are as well. I've struggled and struggled, and I still do not feel as if I have victory over it. I think I will give you an example of what I'm talking about. Here you go.
Person 1: "I am so excited, my birthday is next week on the 5th!" (Yes, I realize next week does not contain a 5th.)
Person 2: "Oh! My neighbor's son's is on the 4th!"
That's it. It's as simple as that. Can we really, seriously, not just say, "Oh, great! Happy birthday! What are your plans?" without bringing our trivial knowledge of some not-really-coincidence up? Honestly! Thousands of peoples' birthdays are on any given day in any given week. Here's the thing. I DON'T CARE. ESPECIALLY if it's someone I don't even know! Please, just don't bother.
Here's another scenario, and this one happens all the time as well:
Person 1: "I have to get my wisdom teeth pulled. I'm pretty nervous."
Person 2: "Oh, you should be! When I had mine out it was HORRIBLE! I was down for a WEEK!"
Seriously, if I don't ask, don't tell me. Empathize, tell me if I need something to let you know (if you mean it), or just simply say, "That sucks." Don't tell me it's going to be the worst experience of my life.
Possibly the worst case of this kind of thing is with newly married or about-to-get-married couples. I understand that people joke around and say things like, "Don't do it! You still have time to get out!" But, dear readers, stop. Please. For the sake of all that is good. Just shut your mouth. I do not care that if you could do everything over again that you wouldn't get married. I do not care that every problem you had was magnified when you got married. And most of all, JUST BECAUSE YOU ARE MISERABLE DOES NOT MEAN I MUST BE AS WELL. Get this through your heads.
Some of you may have seen my facebook status before I got married that said something along the lines of, "Don't tell me what your experience was like and say mine will be the same, don't tell me marriage isn't awesome, when I get pregnant don't tell me kids are a pain and that regardless of what I say, mine will grow up to be spoiled brats, etc. etc." And I mean it. I'm an adult, and your advice is only welcome when I ask for it. Your negativity is never welcome. Your miserableness will not be shared by me. Your assumptions about my life are probably incorrect. If you hear a rumor about me, for pete's sake why don't you just ask me about it? If you feel like you don't want to ask because it would be too nosy or if it's too embarrassing or whatever, just forget it, cuz if you can't talk to me about it you sure as heck shouldn't talk to anybody else about it. If you have a problem with me, take it up with me. Don't take it to someone else in the form of a prayer request for me, that's just an excuse to gossip.
This is the way I feel about it, but I can't be the only one. If someone oversteps their boundaries and says something out of line about YOUR life, say something back, and tell them to kindly back off. If ever I am too nosy with you, tell me, and I will shut up about it. And I expect you to do the same. Thank you.

What is WRONG with people?!

I know what you're thinking: "Really, Rebekah, two blog posts in one day?" Yep! There's just so much to rant about!
So, yesterday Tom and I went to Taco Bell for lunch. It started out much like any other trip to Taco Bell would, with us walking in the door and getting in line and looking at the menu for a moment. But then I realized that something was a bit different. The lady in line in front of me seemed angry and upset. So I, being the curious (nosy) person that I am, actually started paying attention to the scene that was unfolding in front of me. The poor pimple-faced teenage kid at the register looked lost, and the customer lady was MAD. The conversation went something like:
Angry Customer: "I just wanted small drinks for my kids, and THIS is the size you give me?"
Kid at Register: "Yeah, that's the smallest size we sell. The kids' meals come with smaller cups but we don't just sell them apart from the meal."
AC: "So YOU'RE telling ME, that I have to buy a drink THIS size for my six year old?!"
*manager steps in*
AC: "I do not WANT to buy a children's meal, I got my kids food off the menu, but I want the SMALLEST DRINK YOU HAVE with it!"
Manager: "Ok . . . "
AC *interrupts*: "I cannot believe that I have to buy a drink THIS SIZE for my SIX YEAR OLD! I don't want to buy a kids' meal!"
Manager: "TYPICALLY we don't sell kids' drinks separately from the kids meals, but . . . "
AC *interrupts again*: "Well that's ridiculous. My six year old won't drink that much."
Manager: "Ok. I'll refund your money and give you the kids' cups."
*refunds money, hands stupid lady two kids' cups*
AC: *just stands there staring for a moment. . .*
Manager: *stares right back for a moment*
AC: "Well, what do I owe you for THESE?!"
Manager: "JUST TAKE THEM!"
The angry customer, mumbling something, FINALLY walked away. For a moment I thought the manager was going to cry or something. And the lady behind me said, "Geez!" And my husband said, "I woulda told her to choke on her food and die. And that is why I'm no longer in customer service." And the guy behind us said, "Why in the world would whatever she was just upset about be THAT important?" And I said, "I wonder if she knows how stupid she just made herself look." All of us were clearly within her earshot and I hope she heard every word. I just don't understand people.
Oh, and another instance of the same kind of crap... One time we were at Denny's, and the people at a table near us were waiting on their food. I have no idea how long they had been waiting. Father and daughter had their food and were eating, and mother sent her salad back for whatever reason. A while later they came back with a new and improved salad. Father and daughter were still eating. Mother says, "No, just forget it. It took too long to come out here. I don't want it any more." WHAT?! DUMB! So she sat there a few more minutes and watched her family eat. DUMB. GEEZ.

Yes, I really am terrified of *all* dogs...

Hello again! This is a very long-awaited (like two or three days, I think?) and highly anticipated post for some of you. And I'm not going to lie to you, I am really looking forward to expressing myself on this issue. Once again I'm just going to tell you that you might be offended by some of the things I say, and that once again I don't care. It's my blog. Booyah. Anyway. Here goes.
I really, really, really hate dogs. It's not just a passing thing. I've hated dogs forever, just ask my parents. And it's not just like every once in a while I come across a dog that I really just don't enjoy being around. No, no. I hate every dog that has ever existed. For most of my life, this has been a fact that most people have either 1) not believed or 2) ignored. I can assure you that you have no idea how frustrating, irritating, nerve-wracking, and even horrifying this has been for me. Everything about them disgusts me.
Many people, probably even many of you who are reading this, have tried to convince me that YOUR dog(s) HAVE to be exceptions because they're SO NICE and LOVING. "Ohh Rebekah come pet MY dog *insert lame name here*, you'll like her soooo much, she's soooo cute and she won't bite!" I'm not going to do that. You see, embedded deep within my very being is a fear that if you don't have, you will not understand. My husband has a fear of heights. I didn't realize until after we went on the SkyWheel in Niagara Falls that he was pretty terrified the entire time. That is a fear that I do not have, therefore do not understand. And I can promise you that no one can tell him, "go on the Ferris Wheel at *insert amusement park name here* because it's DIFFERENT from the rest" and actually make him believe it. It does not matter how big or small or "nice" the dog is, or how it won't bite. I'm not afraid of a dog biting me. I'm afraid of the dog itself. All of them.
"Hey Rebekah, I LOVE taking my dog with me to public sporting events and to the park with large gatherings of people!" I'm sure you do. And I'm sure there are people at any given place who would welcome your disgusting creature with open arms. But if you don't keep it on a leash away from me (or even away from me if it IS on a leash), I will kick it, hard, no questions asked. I am COMPLETELY compassionless when it comes to dogs. I know, I'm a Christian and I'm not supposed to say things like that. I look at it as self defense, and if it is wrong to do, God will deal with me.
I've tried numerous times throughout my life to convince myself that I can get rid of my fear and hatred, and have tried to like a few dogs. The first dog I tried to not be afraid of was my Grandma's neighbor's little Pomeranian. Little bitty thing, a little yappy, but I thought I could handle it. So, with great courage, I finally stepped inside the fenced backyard with my older brother and my Grandma's neighbor. I laughed nervously as it came towards me, bent down with Tyler to pet it, touched it for a moment, got scared, stood back up, wished I had long pants on instead of shorts, tried to get over it, bent back down, touched it again... and then it looked at me and barked. I couldn't handle it any longer. Instead of going back to the gate, I just tried to hop the fence. I ended up in tears with my shorts ripped. I got yelled at for "scaring the dog" because it was shaking after the incident. As if I wasn't.
There were several other dogs over the years that I tried to like. It never worked. My friends and acquaintances who had dogs, as I said before, either didn't believe my fear was real or just ignored it, and quite frankly, when I had/have a dog around me, I do not have a good time. I can be surrounded by friends who are hilarious and having a great time, and I might even be able to put on a happy face, but there is a constant fear in the forefront of my mind that ends up making me unbelievably uncomfortable.
Once a while back someone mentioned, "I don't have a problem with people bringing their dogs to [wherever we were at the time...?]." My dad got this look on his face, and I couldn't quite tell what he was thinking, until he looked at that person and said, "You would, if you had a daughter who's traumatized by them." Even as recently as a couple weeks ago I had a run in with a dog. Me, Tom, Dad, Mom, and Erik were in our lawn chairs on the West End Overlook in Pittsburgh waiting for fireworks to start, and we were having a great time. All of a sudden something touched my arm and when I looked down and saw a dog sniffing at me I freaked out. The four people I was with looked at me because they knew what I was thinking. I couldn't do anything because it wasn't in position for me to kick it and I won't punch dogs because I won't touch them with my hands or bare skin because that nauseates me. So it's stupid owner laughed a little and tugged on its leash and they went on their merry way while I sat there shaking and miserable for the next few minutes until something finally got my mind off it.
Ya know, if my best friend were a tarantula I wouldn't bring it out in public with me and stick it in your faces and say mine was different than all the rest and not scary. And I can't be the only person in the world with this fear (though I'm certain it's less common than the fear of heights or spiders). Just know that when you don't control your dogs, you're going to ruin my experience, and your dog's too if it gets anywhere near my foot.

Rant #1...if this post is too long, not many, if any, will read it.

Hello Friends!
Let me begin by saying that I think you're great. This being my first blog post in years, I feel like I should let you know right off the bat that even though you're great, you also may be offended at some of the things that I will say. I am nice sometimes but when I'm just typing whatever I want to type without knowing exactly who's going to read it, I will censor myself less. Now that you know that, I will begin my first rant...if I haven't already lost you.
Intelligence is so rare. I would like to know, and perhaps will keep track of someday, the exact number of times I get a perplexed/disappointed look on my face every single day from hearing and/or reading stupid comments. We've all heard that there's "no such thing as a stupid question." Actually, there is. Any question that is asked when the answer is 1) obvious, 2) readily available, or 3) already known (with the exceptions of rhetoric and quizzing others) is most likely a stupid question. I say this because I am pretty sure we are all guilty of asking stupid questions. Asking, "Where is the ketchup?" while staring right past it is stupid. Asking the same question while standing in front of the refrigerator that you know ketchup is normally kept in without looking in the regrigerator. OPEN the refrigerator and LOOK. I am guilty of doing this; however, myself, my mom, and several others I've spoken with agree that the second scenario I presented you with is very, VERY, VERY typical of guys. But that's beside the point. There are such things as stupid questions. Also, while I'm on the subject, have you ever heard the acronym "JFGI"? If you have what you feel is a legitimate question, chances are, there is probably not going to be many intelligent people around to ask. Hence the phrase..."Just Flippin' Google It." While sometimes this is good advice, perhaps you should pick up a book on the subject. Which brings me to the reason for the title of this post. Not many people actually read any more. This is most likely the number one reason for the ignorance that is gaining so much prevalence among us.
I cannot wait to teach my children to read and write. It is my hope that they will grow up enjoying reading as much as I did as a kid, and that their intelligence level at age four will be far superior to the average twenty year old's. It doesn't seem like that should be too difficult for my babies to achieve. I say this with great regret. It really seems like anything that is more than four lines long is passed over for shorter things that are written for the less intelligent, by the less intelligent, thus contributing to even less intelligence. I will now be so proud as to say that you, dear reader, are among the elite, because you have now read twenty entire lines (if the posted blog is the same as it is as I'm typing it) of reasonably thought out text. Congratulations. Don't let it go to your head.
All you parents, out there, go buy your kid some books. Kids' books are ridiculously expensive, so save up and buy them as Christmas presents. And if your kids get mad at you for buying them books for Christmas, beat them, and then make them read as punishment. Just kidding. Reading should never be portrayed as a bad thing to your children. But I wasn't kidding about beating them. Anyone who complains about any gift should be beaten.
By the way, it doesn't hurt if you read to them every once in a while, even if they are at the age where they can read themselves. I like being read to and I'm 22 for Pete's sake. Have them read out loud to you, too, because it will help them gain a skill that is an almost entirely lost art. When I was in college (granted, it was community college...), in a class of thirty people, there were maybe 3-4 who could competently read out loud. That is sad.
I have one more thing to say on the subject. I mentioned earlier that reading should not be portrayed as a bad thing. You may disagree with what I'm about to say. I don't care. I do not think that reading specific books should ever, EVER be required of people. Any teacher who says, "Read The Scarlet Letter," should just know right now, flat out, no one (or very few) will read it. They will read cliff notes, or the bare minimum of someone else's report on it, to get the gist and to know enough to answer a question or two about it. Tell them to find something that interests them to read. Not everyone will, still, but I can guarantee you that in college if I was told to read something about dogs, I would not have done it, but if I was told to find an article about something that was interesting to me and write a half page summary, now THAT...that's some fun stuff. And that was my way of transitioning into what my next blog post will most likely be about: dogs and other disgusting things.