I Can't Nerrr

As some of you may know, I have 2 nieces whom I love to death. I may occasionally reference them and their crazy antics because like most aunts, I feel that my nieces are the cutest, funniest, most entertaining nieces in the world.


Anyway, this post is only partially about my niece Sophia (almost 4). About a year ago, Sophie was terribly distraught over something but wasn't able to articulate what had upset her. When asked, her only response was a very tearful "I can't nerrr!" Whatever she was experiencing was clearly awful. I asked Sophie's mother, my sister-in-law, what it was that Sophie was trying to convey but she, too, was at a loss. 


"I can't nerrr" is a phrase that came up several times for a period of months whenever Sophie was upset about something or other but a definition for "nerrr" was never given. It wasn't until I shared this story with my best friend, Sam, that we decided Sophie was simply a genius who had created a new word. While an exact definition will never be known, Sam and I have begun using the verb "to nerrr" in our everyday vocabulary. It seems to have several meanings ranging from an inability to concentrate or be productive in any way, to lacking the patience to deal with other human beings. Other uses for "nerrning" include but are not limited to:

• An inability to wake up
• Lacking any and all motivation
• Inability to sleep
• Inability to finish a complicated task or answer a difficult question
• Inability to face one's fears

With that being said, this last week I've been in a continual state of not being able to nerrr. I took on a second job and put in roughly 50+ hours of work in 5 days. While trying to make coffee, I couldn't nerrr. When attempting to communicate with coworkers and friends, I couldn't nerrr. Every night when I got home, I couldn't nerrr. I was all nerrr'd out.

One problem is that even if I could nerrr, I'm not sure I would know what that even looks like. Without a clear definition, I'm afraid I'll be stuck in a perpetual state of "un-nerrring". If anyone has any suggestions for how to best nerrr, they would be greatly appreciated!

Sticks and Stones...

I had a rather rude awakening this week. As children, we are encouraged to disregard the horrible things that others might say about you. At the age of 8, it might be acceptable to cry when someone says something hurtful. As you get older though, the better you're able to ignore the snide and spiteful comments, the stronger you are. Or so we're told.


For me, and for many others I'm sure, the mantra becomes "never let them see you cry". In our society, crying is often viewed as a weakness. If your antagonizer can't get a visible reaction out of you, then they lose. You win. For years I have been able to do this; I've almost perfected the "I don't give a shit what you think about me" attitude. I almost had myself fooled too.


So what happens when it's not some random stranger or casual acquaintance who hurts you? What if it's a friend or family member? Someone you care about? It's easy to put on a brave face and let the harmful remarks slide. It's not a strength at all. The real strength comes from confronting that person and saying, "Yes, that comment hurt me. Yes, you made me feel bad about myself."


I don't care who you are or what you portray to the world; if you have friends and family members who you care about, then you value their opinions as well. What they say and what they think matters. Admitting that someone else's opinions and judgments affect your emotions may feel like you're giving them the power of knowledge. The important thing to remember is that in a real relationship, the "power", the ability to hurt with words, is mutual. And in a real relationship, you should be able to let that person know if they've hurt you.


It's a lot harder than it sounds. Letting someone you care about know that they've hurt you in some way is painfully difficult. You have to access your emotions in a public way and make yourself vulnerable. However, if it's someone who truly is your friend, who cares about you, they will not abuse or exploit that vulnerability. They will respect what you have to say.


I learned this week that I am most definitely not immune to hurtful words. I am not always able to compartmentalize my emotions. It was simultaneously agonizing and cathartic to let a friend know that [they] had hurt my feelings. My initial instinct was to let the comment slide. My second was to go to the bathroom so I could cry by myself. Luckily, my friend could see that I was visibly upset and pushed the issue until I admitted that was hurt. My friend respected that. Had this friend not pushed me to acknowledge my emotions, the issue never would have been resolved and the relationship would have been altered, negatively.


Although the experience was painful and extremely uncomfortable to me, it was worth it. I am thankful for this rude, yet ultimately beneficial, awakening.

And So It Begins...

You know how most people feel like they're "special" or "unique" and therefore other people must surely be interested in their day-to-day happenings? It's the reason why social networking sites like Facebook and Twitter exist; most humans have an egocentric impulse to notify the world of their every thought, opinion and emotion. Don't get me wrong - I'm not saying this is a negative trait; it's specifically why I started this blog. I, too, feel that others should find me interesting and insightful. The jury is still out on that one though.


Anyway, as a barista and Seattlite, I've witnessed and experienced enough absurdity that I finally feel it is necessary to begin cataloging these occurrences. I also need an outlet to share some of my opinions, ideas or just random thoughts.


I should maybe mention that I'm an artist (translation: emotionally neurotic and overly insecure with a tinge of arrogance). I once heard the phrase "It's okay to be smarter than everyone in the room, you just don't need to tell everyone that." I struggle with this concept from time to time. To be fair, I don't really think I'm smarter than everyone in the room; I'm not a genius or anything. I just (on occasion) think everyone in the room is dumber than me. 


I'm very honest - almost to a fault. I have a dry sense of humor. Very dry. A lot of people interpret me as being "bitchy" and I'm okay with that, for the most part. The truth is that I am very insecure and entirely too consumed with what others think of me. I'm working on that. I also have a poor track record for following through with new ventures so we'll see how long this "blogging" thing actually lasts.


I think that's it for now. Yup. I'm done.