How to Get Over Things that Embarrass You

Okay, I’m one of those people who checks her blog stats religiously, and I always like seeing how people find me. I love Chuck Wendig’s Search Term Bingo, so I’m always on the look-out for fun search terms. Mine aren’t quite as fun as his, but I saw one that I had to blog about.

It’s the title of today’s post. Literally, someone found me searching “how to get over things that embarrass you.” I have no idea HOW, since to my memory I never HAVE blogged about that, but hey, welcome, and here you go.

The trick to embarrassment is kind of simple actually: don’t let stuff bother you. Okay, fine. That’s easier said than done, right? Here are some helpful hints.

1. Own the embarrassment. Say you farted in front of your crush. … Excuse yourself, don’t pretend it didn’t happen. People fart. You are people. Your crush farts, too!

2. But don’t let it define you. It’s really easy to dwell on that one thing that happened that one time. So find something else to think about, like that plot point you’ve been ignoring all week. :cough:

3. Because no one else cares. See, this is the real secret to embarrassment: you are the only one who remembers. Everyone else is too worried about themselves to worry about you.

But say you really messed up and it’s all you can fixate on. What to do then? One foot in front of the other, lovely. This too shall pass, and someday maybe you won’t wince when you think about it. Maybe. I did things ten years ago that still make me wince, but well……. so?

Here’s what you don’t want to hear: in the grand scheme of things, embarrassment doesn’t hurt anything. It’s good for you, actually, so you don’t get a big head. So maybe you get over embarrassment, or maybe you don’t, and that’s okay, too.

:ducks:

The Road Diverged

And I, I took the one less traveled.

I’ve quoted that before. I hadn’t thought about it for a while until I saw Bobby Mathews mention it on twitter to Claire Legrand. They were talking about when you have story ideas and don’t have time to write them, and Bobby said he feared never getting back to them.

PING, went my lizard brain.

The cool thing about roads is they don’t vanish behind you. One time my ex and I thought we had to go to Buffalo and drove up to Buffalo, only to find we were supposed to be in Lake Champlain on the other side of the state. (Major oops.) So … we drove across the state. Roads are not forever.

But here’s the catch – while you’re on one, you have to pay attention to the road. When you set foot down a path, you have to commit to that path. You may determine it is indeed the wrong road, but you have to give it a fair shake. After all, you picked this road for a reason.

Here’s the exception – (am I driving you bonkers yet?) – if, when you get on the path and know early on that this probably isn’t the path for you, but you stick it out anyway, you should get off the path. There is no magic length of time you MUST allow yourself to try something. If you can tell it’s not right, it’s not right. Things don’t magically get right, and most people can tell the difference between the discomfort of adapting and change to when something’s not right. So if you settle into a path and it niggles at you that you should be somewhere else, you really probably should be.

So how do you know when it’s time to get off the road? Say you committed to a road and it’s never felt right but maybe you didn’t try hard enough to focus on that road. How do you know? Should you recommit to the road and try harder? If you’ve been on the road a while and have never managed to buckle down to it before, despite efforts, may I ask what would make this time different? Wanting something to work doesn’t make it work.

I have a word that I throw around a lot in real life because it’s a very good word: INDICATIVE. This is when something serves as a sign for something else. I usually refer to things being indicative when people explain a situation and the way they ask the question (or state the problem) is its own answer. Like, “I’m having trouble writing, but I don’t really like to read.” Or, “I have horrible asthma every time I work out but I really want to be a runner.” Or, “My significant other and I have fundamentally different worldviews, but I don’t know if we should break up.” People? You are answering yourselves. These were never the right roads for you, no matter how long you have committed to walking them.

It’s hard to change roads. Driving across New York at 5AM on maybe four hours of sleep after a long week? NOT A FUN TIME. But you can do it. You can give yourself permission to change roads. My ex and I could’ve turned around and gone home. (He threatened to.) We could’ve said screw it and spent the weekend in Buffalo. But we knew we were supposed to be in Lake Champlain. It didn’t mean the drive to Buffalo was wasted time. It was a really pretty drive. The thing is, it happened. You can choose to say it meant nothing and lament the waste of time and effort, or you can accept what you learned on that road, even if only that it wasn’t your road, and move on. I’ve said elsewhere on the blog, nobody gets a clean slate. We are our pasts. Learn from where you’ve been, but remember you don’t have to stay there.

As in life, so in writing.

So what about Bobby writing some story and worrying about not getting to write some other story. Bobby? Is the story you’re working on something you enjoy working on, something that gives you a sense of accomplishment, something you can be proud of working on, that feels right? Then don’t worry about the other ideas. They may be equally good for you, but that doesn’t change that the road you’re on right now is a good enough road for you, too. The other stories will be there when you finish this one. And if the story you’re writing now doesn’t feel right, if you have to force yourself to open word, if you can force yourself to even sit down to open word? You have permission to stop. You have permission to write the new idea. You can change roads.

(I’d also like to point out that sometimes all the roads feel like a slog. You have permission to sit at a rest stop for a while, too.)

Book of the Month: A GROWN-UP KIND OF PRETTY, Joshilyn Jackson

(PSST! I’m at Farrah Penn’s blog today being interviewed about writing!)

 

From Barnes and Noble:

A GROWN-UP KIND OF PRETTY is a powerful saga of three generations of women, plagued by hardships and torn by a devastating secret, yet inextricably joined by the bonds of family. Fifteen-year-old Mosey Slocumb-spirited, sassy, and on the cusp of womanhood-is shaken when a small grave is unearthed in the backyard, and determined to figure out why it’s there. Liza, her stroke-ravaged mother, is haunted by choices she made as a teenager. But it is Jenny, Mosey’s strong and big-hearted grandmother, whose maternal love braids together the strands of the women’s shared past–and who will stop at nothing to defend their future.

WHY THIS BOOK: I have been a fan of Joshilyn Jackson’s since gods in Alabama, which remained my favorite of her novels – until now. GUKOP has tied if not surpassed gods for me. I’m forever amazed at Joss’s ability to write such vivid, real characters. Her plots travel well-worn themes, family in all of them, and identity and love. But they do so in a uniquely Joss way. She is not afraid to reach into the blackest black and show you what’s in there. My chest was tight with ache reading; I want to be friends with the Slocumbs.

Yet.

Yet I honestly found myself laughing out loud, barks of startled laughter that yes, she said that, or yes, she did that. I appreciate that Joss can write about such dark bad things with humor, not just that her characters can be funny people. And it doesn’t take the sting off; it doesn’t cheapen the pain the characters are going through or shrug it off or in any way *mitigate* their problems.

I’m floored at this book, quite simply. After her third book, The Girl Who Stopped Swimming, I decided to automatically pre-order Joss’s books in hardcover from now on forever and ever amen, and I’m kind of glad we have at least a year to wait for the next one, because GUKOP will be with me for a long time. Joss’s books are all keepers.

Truth or Dare: teamTEENauthor challenge!

Super Agent Suzie has, as you might expect, a veritable PASSEL of fine writers she represents besides me. (See the sidebar. You know you want to.) Last month I got to meet Dan Krokos and Julie Cross in person. They are wonderful and crazy as you might expect. I heart my agentmates.

So Julie started #teamTEENauthor and the initiation is a CHALLENGE and you know I kind of LIKE challenges, so I said yes. Only, ahem, this one is truth or dare. Here’s what she says:

“In order to kick-start my blog rebirth after it’s long drawn out death, I’m challenging my fellow YA author friends to create an identical Truth or Dare post and let their readers pick a TRUTH question or a DARE in which we swear to provide photographs, video footage or some evidence of performing said DARE…in the case of a “DARE FAIL” the author will post the photo shown below on their blog for no less than one week regardless of whether it matches the blog’s color scheme. This game could be your ticket into my exclusive club, teamTEENauthor. If you aren’t a soon-to-be published or already published teen writer, you can still play your own game of truth or dare on your blog. Post the link to your own post in the comment section and I’ll add you to my list of dare devils who took the challenge.” (And here’s the photo.)

So, for the purpose of these questions, I’d like to introduce you to HYPOTHETICAL BOYFRIEND, since a lot of them are about having one. Well, a real boyfriend, that is, not a hypothetical one. Oh, move along, would you? Nothing to see here.

MOST COMMON TRUTH OR DARE QUESTIONS

1) If your significant other said it was alright would you cheat on them? 

No, because I’m too in love with Hypothetical Boyfriend to want to be with anyone else. My theory on this is pretty straightforward: if you find yourself considering straying, look hard at why. If you’re bored or just attracted to other people, do the hard work in your actual relationship to fix things. If the problem really is that something’s wrong with your relationship – your needs are unmet, you’re not compatible – get out of the relationship. You may have a lot invested in it, but ultimately, you’ll be better off. It sounds scoffingly simple, and on one hand, it is. On the other, if you’re thinking about cheating, maybe simplifying would help. It’s never too late to be honest with yourself and others.

2) What is there about your boyfriend/girlfriend (spouse) that embarrasses you?

Hypothetical Boyfriend is out-going, like me, so maybe he sometimes is a little too exuberant when meeting new people. Could be awkward if people don’t know he’s joking around with them.

3) What is more important than money?

SEE EVERY BLOG POST I’VE EVER WRITTEN. Or, here, allow me to sum up: Be true to yourself. Don’t let anyone make you feel less than, whether it’s for their attention or money or popularity. Authenticity, love, and fulfillment through the pursuit of your dreams are all way more important than money.

4) When have you loved some one who has not loved you back?

I’ve LIKED people who have not liked me back, but I don’t know about love. I’ve also been in relationships where we liked each other but not to the same degree.

5) When was the first time you had your heart broken?

DARE!

6) When is it alright to mix love and business?

I’m a writer. I don’t think you could take love out of writing. Oh, you mean, like that. Well. Hypothetical Boyfriend is a writer because writers tend to “get” other writers better than laypeople.

7) If you were given a chance to become invisible for one day, what would you do with this ability?

I thought SO hard about this question. And, yes, I WOULD SO DO THINGS I SHOULDN’T. I would wander around backstage areas I am not supposed to be. I would be that person. But I would also just use it to gather inspiration. I would enjoy not being seen to eavesdrop better, to observe moments people don’t know anyone can see. I would spend some time in the middle of a crowded place and just BE.

8) If you could see 24 hours into the future what would you do with this ability?

Well, I have a whole book about a girl who can kind of DO that, and kills herself because of it. Perhaps you’ll read it when it comes out next year? What would I do with it, personally? Oh, god. I want to say I wouldn’t be all amoral and check the lottery but I … probably would. Just one 24-hour period? Yeah, I would. If I could see the future all the time I wouldn’t but I’d feel like I needed to take advantage while I could. Sorry, Mom, I know you tried to raise me better.

9) Who was your first crush with?

My first crush was in middle school on the “class heartthrob” who EVERYONE had a crush on. I  can’t remember if I actually liked him or if I just liked the idea of liking him. It was middle school, I’m not sure there’s much difference.

10) When is it alright for your boyfriend/girlfriend to lie to you?  

I don’t ever want Hypothetical Boyfriend to lie to me. He can refrain from telling me things until suitable times, but no outright lying to me. My relationships must be built on an open foundation for them to work.

11) If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?

Me as a guy? Save us all. I honestly can’t imagine this! My mind isn’t even drawing a blank, it’s just laughing at me. DARE?

—

Wanna Join My Game?

So, you want to play in my game? Here’s what you do, answer one of the above truth questions in the comment section then it’s your turn to ask me…or offer a DARE.

I’m Divorced

I’ve been sitting on this news for a little while now trying to make sense of it. I don’t know that I can. Yet I find significance in being able to post it directly following the love and hope posts.

In my head I’ve been divorced for eight months, since the day the court recognizes as the last one of my marriage. But the divorce itself was only finalized this month. February 8. It’s such a random date. 2/8/2012. Anyone who knows me knows how much I love even numbers and yet I can’t help liking these.

I’ve been trying to sum up what this means to me, but I keep coming up somewhat bemused.

The papers I can’t stop staring at, the official court wording and the notary seal and the judge’s signature – I have no idea who you are, Judge Brennan, but thank you for signing off on my divorce – they mean something different to me than simply the fact I’m no longer married. They’re not just the legal technicality to something that happened last year, though they are that.

They are proof, evidence, that I claimed my life. That I am strong and brave and honest with myself and am allowed to have needs and to be myself and so much else of what I spend my time blogging about. They state clearly, life is to be lived. Not just passed through. Not hugged along the sidelines of, crept through. Lived. (I finally started crying now. I wondered if I would get through the post without doing so. Nope.) These papers are precious.

And I have so much to say to so many people who were – are – affected by these papers: I’m sorry. I’m sorry I handled things poorly. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you the truth sooner, or at all. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry you hurt. I’m sorry I can’t talk to you, don’t know how to talk to you, don’t have anything to say to you. I’m sorry the things you thought we had in common, we don’t, and the person you thought I was, I’m not. I’m sorry it took me so long to figure that out. I’m sorry.

I have so much to say to so many other people, the ones who’ve handed me pieces of myself over the past eight months: thank you. thankyouthankyouthankyou.

When the papers came, I dug out the books I read last year, the ones that really helped me. In Contemplating Divorce, Susan Pease Gadoua writes,

Like me on the diving board, you may have stayed in your marriage and contemplated all that could go wrong if you divorced and all the reasons you shouldn’t jump. It’s a healthy form of self-preservation to consider the ways in which you or others around you could get hurt. Until something forces you to jump or until you can find a logical reason to risk everything you’ve worked so hard for, you stand there on the ledge.

As you perch on the precipice of what feels like a thirty-thousand-foot-high cliff, you can’t imagine landing on your feet. You can’t even see what you would land on, so why in the world would you willingly jump into this abyss? If you’ve been in an unhappy, unfulfilling, or unhealthy marriage, there is a reason to jump: to get you to a different place in your life.

I jumped and I got to a different place. It hasn’t been that long, or that hard, as these things go, but I’m tired, looking at these papers. I’m happy, even if it’s a subdued happy, glad not to deal with lawyers (even nice ones), glad to have gone through this even when it hurt. I am glad not to be on that ledge anymore, grateful for all the pebbles that piled up till I tipped myself over. The loss still lingers, will linger. I am not without scars. But you know what I am more than anything?

Optimistic. My hope today is not a fragile thing; today it holds worlds. I can’t wait to see what’s in them.

My friend Kate brought Magic Hat beer to our New Year’s celebration. I’ve mentioned this before, but it still resonates with me, the synchronicity. They put little sayings on their caps. I opened the one that said, “What exactly are you waiting for?”

There is a reason to jump.

Hope

This is a follow-up to the love post, written separately because it’s more about hope than love. Tune in next Friday for the Book of the Month! (Hint: Joshilyn. Jackson. ZOMG.)

I didn’t remember that I had talked about love in my post on loss, to include in the love post or I would’ve, but it fits better here.

That’s why love is the scariest, absolutely hands-down, the scariest endeavor ever. The more we love, the more we have to lose, and haven’t we just been over how much that sucks? I once defined love as leaning over the abyss and hoping nobody pushes you. (I’m such a romantic.) But I find love and loss to be at opposite ends. Because love is an opening, a daring, a belief. It’s taking broken pieces and seeing beauty in them anyway. Love is the bravest thing we can do. I think it can transcend itself; that in taking that risk, if we do it right, love can be safe. That’s why I put it opposite loss. Because it can unite, calm, instill hope. Everything that loss shatters, love can restore.

This is why I think love and hope are so entwined. Love is hope in action.

I am in a position to be hopeful. My divorce is nearly final. My finances are sorted. My book is almost out of revision; I’m working on new projects. I’m looking forward intentionally. I have wants, and some needs. I allow myself that.

My hope is a fragile thing. It balances on a razor’s edge. I am fearful for it, fearful to indulge it. To let it grow any bigger. I am afraid to hope, a little.

And yet I do, anyway. I hope recklessly, even painfully. I let it swell and totter and maybe even get nicked every now and again. My hope flutters like paper-thin butterfly wings. Beautiful and delicate.

But what choice do I have?

I cannot remain tight in the bud (Nin). I cannot let the fear win. Hope is like faith. If you had a guarantee, you wouldn’t need it. That’s the entire point.

I want to believe in things. For all the older-than-years I feel and can come across, I am still young. I am sometimes naive, and innocent. In this I try to be. I want to believe. So I do, if you give me enough to hope, to believe in. Tawna asked about your favorite words, and mine were, “I believe in you.” They have so much power. To have someone believe in me – wow. It’s humbling, so for me to offer it to someone else – it’s hope, pure hope. It’s me saying, I trust you with a part of me that can break, and I will forgive you if you break it, but I don’t think you will.

Even now as I sit in this Starbucks, caffeine absorbing into my pores, the lunch rush burbling around me, I take a deep breath and HOPE, hugely. My tag says “Ideas are not people,” to remind me we have to invest in people, not ideas, that ideas don’t make things happen, people do. That concepts don’t give hugs when you’re sad. But they are fuel; they are compass; they are the things that light us up.

I am alight with hope. Right now, in this moment. Whether or not what I hope comes to pass is, in this moment, nearly irrelevant. It is for then. It is not now. Now, I believe in you.

Love

So, yesterday was Valentine’s Day.

I figured I would be one of those miserable single bitter people, but no. Not my style. I had a valentine, a friend, and really, why be miserable? There’s nothing good in choosing that, in giving in to it. Instead I found myself tweeting ideas about love all day, so here I’m going to compile them and talk a little more about what it means to me.

One of my all-time favorite quotes is this one from Lao Tzu: “Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”

Then there’s Frost: “We love the things we love for what they are.”

And Pablo Neruda captures exactly what I think real love looks like: “I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.”

I remembered some lines from my debut, AFTER YOU, I had to share for the holiday. “Love gives us the courage to live whether that means staying or going, but it only ever means life.”

Hm. Are you seeing a theme, too?

I couldn’t be miserable on Valentine’s day when love is so intimately entwined with authenticity and identity and hope. My twitter bio says I believe in magic, chocolate cake, vodka – and love. This is true. I believe in love down to my toes, into the very core of who I am. I’m not going to trumpet all you need is love or love conquers all – I don’t believe that, incidentally. Loving someone is not enough; respect and openness and action fill love out. But when real love is present those things flow from it, with it.

Love can hurt but never be ugly. There’s a book called If It Hurts It’s Not Love, and I haven’t read it but I thought, that doesn’t make sense. Love is being vulnerable, is allowing people close enough to hurt. Love is caring so much for someone that you ache for them when things are low, and that hurts. Love is never ugly, though, because real love is honest, is respectful, is active, has hope. The circumstances of love can still be ugly – star-crossed, or what have you. But love itself? No.

I believe if you love someone you want what’s best for them even when it rips your own heart out for them to have it. I believe we owe ourselves the chance for real love, to both give and receive it. I believe shielding someone you love from truth because it will hurt does everyone a disservice.

I believe we all fail at love but that there is beauty in learning from that. There is integrity in admitting failure, in knowing when something doesn’t and can’t work. Whenever anyone comments on my divorce as a failed marriage, I bristle. I’ve talked before about how I think longevity is a poor indicator of a marriage’s success. How is it failure to stop beating a dead horse? To give M and I both a chance at real love with people who will get us? To stop pretending, to stop hurting each other for abstractions I don’t even believe in (religion)? My biggest failure was in not recognizing and acting sooner. Divorcing M was probably the most loving thing I could’ve done for  him, ironically.

Love demands to be celebrated, whether it’s romantic, kindred, amicable. Love is everything good in this world. There’s a reason I call my blog readers and friends “lovelies.”

I Need Help

I mentioned a while ago I would talk about my anxiety someday when I had a better handle on it. I don’t have a better handle on it, which is why I’m talking about it now. I need help. I’ve flailed – best word for it – with my anxiety struggle my whole life and I’m really. really. tired.

My mind is a hamster wheel. It’s perpetually spinning – picking at things, fretting, reassessing and trying to think of what it missed, trying to account for all variables. It is an obsessive mind, with somewhat compulsive tendencies. It can beat a dead horse to dust and still not stop. I annoy even myself with it sometimes. It frets. It frets frets frets. Worry. All I do is worry. About money, about my friends, about my health (hypochondriac, of course. psychosomatic, certainly), about my writing. I have reasonable worries – bills – and unreasonable worries – every night when I go to bed, I fear I am going blind. (I have really bad eyes. REALLY bad. And the eye strain gets worse every year.) I worry about things I have absolutely no control over and things I do.

I exhaust myself mentally and then let it spill over into physically. Last week I walked around like a shell-shocked trauma victim because too many things piled up at one time and defeated my coping reserves. Normally I can do okay but too much at once is too much at once, yanno?

And I do not know how to stop it. I have tried exercise, as you know, and that helps a lot. My eating has been not so good, stress eating lots of junk, but on the whole I’m okay. I try meditation but given the nature of the beast you can see why it doesn’t work. So.

I am appealing to you, internet. What do I do?

And while a therapist would be lovely, I don’t have insurance, so please to suggest other things. And this is not something just “be kind to yourself” can fix. I may as well have stock in dark chocolate and bubble bath at this point, though by all means get a discussion going for more ideas on those kinds of solutions. Those short-term relaxations DO help – in the short term.

Apologies!

Bear with me another week as I sort some personal things out – sorry for the lack of posting, but next week we’ll be back to regular blogging, including the Book of the Month on Friday. I’ve had some emergencies crop up in a schedule that didn’t have any extra time cushions in it, so blogging got by the wayside as I keep my head above water. Thanks for stopping by!

The Lemon Ricotta Muffins of Amazingness

I’ve had requests for some of my more talked about recipes, so here is my favorite muffin recipe: Lemon Ricotta. These are from Cooking Light, like lots of my favorite recipes (go figure).

Lemon Ricotta Muffins
makes 1 dozen

• 7 9/10 ounces all-purpose flour (1 3/4 cups)
• 3/4 cup granulated sugar
• 2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 3/4 cup part-skim ricotta cheese
• 1/2 cup water
• 1/4 cup olive oil
• Zest of one lemon
• Juice of one lemon
• 1 large egg, lightly beaten
• 2 tablespoons sugar (optional)

1. 1. Preheat oven to 375°.
2. 2. Weigh or lightly spoon flour into dry measuring cups; level with a knife. Combine flour and next 3 ingredients (through salt); make a well in center. Combine ricotta and next 5 ingredients (through egg). Add ricotta mixture to flour mixture, stirring just until moist.
3. 3. Place 12 muffin-cup liners in muffin cups; coat with cooking spray. Divide batter among muffin cups. Sprinkle sugar over batter. Bake at 375° for 16 minutes or until a wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean. Cool 5 minutes in pan on a wire rack.

from Maureen Callahan of Cooking Light.

Some tips: The original recipe calls for turbinado to be sprinkled over the muffins, which I’m sure is divine, but I never have it. I either omit and they’re fine or just sprinkle some regular sugar, which makes the tops soft and sweet and lovely. Up to you. Also the original recipe gives you specific amounts of lemon juice and zest. Pfft. I get one decent sized lemon, grate the zest off into a mixing bowl, squeeze the juice in, as much as can be juiced, pick out the seeds, then I beat in an egg and proceed from there. Also, the tip to spray to muffin cups is brilliant and I do it all the time now. The texture will be kind of spongy from the ricotta, but trust me it’s perfect. I have not tried substituting anything for the oil because the other flavors are so delicate I worry it would upset the balance, and they’re pretty healthy even using the oil. And next time I make them I will try to remember a picture.