Tiny Texan Thoughts

How do you meet everyone else’s needs when you aren’t even meeting your own?

You don’t. You can’t.

Random Friday thought… a student commented on the boots I am wearing, about how they have scratches on them and are a little beat up. I laughed and told them that they have been well-worn, well-loved and all the imperfections just add character to them. And I think this is a perfect metaphor for ourselves and the people we love. We tend to love these things – whether they be our favorite shoes, a lucky hat, whatever – more and more over time. We appreciate their flaws and how they make us feel. Yet we don’t do the same with ourselves or sometimes our loved ones. We look at our differences, our imperfections or holes, and see negatives or damage, instead of seeing that the older we get and the more scratches we gain, add character and help make us that much more unique. They are marks of us living, getting a little dirty, and our souls (or soles, ha) getting more settled in and comfortable. What might improve if we changed our perspective to love our older, dirtier, worn-in selves just as much as we love these cherished items? Ok, random thought over. Happy Friday, y’all!

Saw this quote on pinterest:

“Because what men fear most about going to prison is what women fear most about walking down the sidewalk.”

Then read this article on facebook.

And I was brought back to a conversation I had with my boyfriend this weekend about something that happened the night before… it’s funny how life throws a lot of the same notions in your face repeatedly in a short amount of time… or maybe we just are hypersensitive to the subject and notice it more… but anyway, back to the point.

The older I get, the more I realize that as a woman, I see every aspect of life from a different set of lenses, just as my boyfriend has a different perspective due to his mixed race, just as my brother sees things in a different light because of his aspirations to be a police officer. Which all make sense when you put it that way, but in day-to-day activities, I certainly am not aware of how skewed things may be in my version of things until someone outside of that view brings light to it. For example, I wasn’t aware of how significantly different my expectations and interactions with people were until the conversation I had with Julian. We were talking about a situation that happened the same weekend, when we were downtown hanging out with friends (I was the token female in the group of four males), and I got hungry. Not an uncommon thing at all. So I walk out of the bar we were all in and get in line for the Mac N Cheese Food Truck. Within approximately fifteen seconds of getting in line, a young man, probably only a few years younger than I am, stepped next to me from behind me and attempted to make conversation. He was so close to me that I instinctively stepped a few inches back, to which he responded by stepping even closer and asking “getting food, huh?”. In my mind I was rolling my eyes and remarking back, “nope, I just really like standing in lines for no reason…”, but I resisted the urge to let that slip out. I shortly just answered “yep” without making eye contact. He then asked where I came from. I didn’t really know what he meant and so I asked back, in a kind of snarky tone I might add, what that even meant and for him to be more specific. He didn’t pick up on my tone and replied that he wanted to know what bar I came from. I turned and pointed to 317, and said in there, with those guys right by the window – hinting at the fact that I am with others, more importantly, with a guy and that I wasn’t seeking any more male company for the evening. Finally it was my turn to order and I walked right up, ordered, and walked as far away from the line as possible, while still being in close range to hear my name called when my food was done. Well, the rando and his friends followed me over to that area, and I turned my body away from them to look into the window in hopes of catching Julian’s attention, and to also show through my body language that again, I wasn’t interested in conversing with strangers. I could hear them talking loudly and one was repeating to the original guy who talked to me to “just do it”. Not wanting to really find out what they were talking about, I started to turn to just walk into the bar, when the encouraging friend pushed the first guy into my direction. Somehow I was prepared for something, so I moved quickly out of the way and gave him a look of WTF and before I could actually mutter those words to match my face, he goes, “sorry, I’m stuck babysitting these drunk idiots, they think they are funny.” I didn’t say anything back and continued to walk away, when I heard Julian yell through the window, “what are you doing?!” Startled, I turned towards him and thought he was questioning why I was talking to these people. Turns out, the gang of boys was making cupping shapes with their hand and pretending to squeeze my butt while I wasn’t facing them. I went to the window to talk to him and he asked if I wanted him to come out and I of course said yes. We waited for my food and went back inside to enjoy the remainder of our night with our other friends.

Now you may have just read that and think, wow, that was really an over exaggerated story and not a big deal, it could have been worse. Or you may think wow, that was really annoying and not cool of those guys. I personally feel both ways about it. It was really annoying of those guys to act that way and not pick up on social cues, but it was also not that big of a deal… and I say that it isn’t a big deal because it happens so often, that it isn’t a big deal to me anymore. But through my conversation with Julian, I realized that just because things like that happen all the time, doesn’t negate the fact that it is still not okay. I have become so used to men ignoring the signs that I am not interested in talking to them or thinking it is ok to touch me or talk about my body (more on that later… life of working in a bar) that I fail to understand just how demeaning and unjust it is. I am appreciative of my partner for noticing I was uncomfortable and for stepping in. I am proud of him for going against many when he says it’s not fair the daily injustices that women face and eventually learn to ignore. In a way though, it has almost made me more aware of the ways that I am constantly offended or discouraged or degraded. Now that I know how I view unjust things as normal I am a little upset about it. Might ignorance in this scenario be bliss?

* EDITED * I named this “Rosé Colored Glasses” because I think often times women mask the way we interpret situations, specifically indecent situations like the one aforementioned. Whether that mask come in the form of drinking, laughing it off, convincing ourselves it’s normal and socially acceptable, or blatantly ignoring the situation altogether, we tend to do whatever we can to go on with our lives and not be affected. Women are intentionally resilient and I love/hate it. Sometimes I applaud our ability to act as if we aren’t slighted and continue on, and sometimes I wonder if we were honest with others and most importantly ourselves about these situations if they would begin to change.

And the rosé (instead of just rose) is because bitches love rosé.

I actually wrote this last summer, and wanted to share it on this blog (I had an old one I wasn’t as active on…) because I saw this:

I was telling my 7th graders about my experiences seeing famous people out in the world, and they told me I should write a book about it because there are soooooo many.

So here’s my book, detailing allllll the experiences I told them about.

One time, I saw Zeke at a bar in Uptown and a few years before that, I shook Mike Tyson’s hand at the Gucci store in Vegas. The end.

I didn’t even tell them about the time I saw Kholé Kardashian at a club in Vegas or about the time Sophia Bush and other cast members – that I didn’t care about as much as Sophia Bush – did a fashion show at the mall and my best friend and I were in the show with them. Maybe I should write a sequel… haha

Good gravy, it’s easy to impress them sometimes and I love that. Makes me feel super interesting.

Anywhoooo, happy Friday Junior. aka Thursday.

Ok, so probably not the most solid life advice, but I’m going for a seemingly deep title here to kick things off.

Blogging. Is it really scary? Like am I going to have nightmares and live in fear of running this blog? Probably not. But does it make me nervous? Does it make me feel vulnerable? Absolutely. So I am going to try it, in hopes that quotes like “your comfort zone is a beautiful thing, but nothing ever grows there” and “life begins at the end of your comfort zone” are accurate. I could use some growing. (And that’s not just a short joke on myself…)

Anyway, let me introduce myself and let you decide if you think it’s worth continuing to read.

My name is Jordan Harler, formerly Jordan Parchman. No, I did not get married, no, I did not make this new last name up. I got adopted as an adult by my step-father about 3 years ago and with the new last name began a “new” life – that’s something for an entirely different post, but I will write on that soon.

I am from Carrollton, Texas and currently living in Bozeman, Montana. Basically went from one of the most heavily populated areas [and HOTTEST] to a fairly small city (by my Texas standards) that also happens to be SUPER COLD. I moved up here in 2010 after I graduated high school, bright-eyed and eager for my college adventure in this big-ole, beautiful state! I went to Montana State University and got my bachelor’s degree in Family and Consumer Sciences Education (previously referred to as Home Economics). Can I just preface this now by saying I never – and I mean NEVER – foresaw myself as a teacher, however it is one of the best parts of my life. I currently teach in a tiny town just outside of Bozeman, where I have 7th graders all the way through seniors in high school shuffling in and out of my class, hopefully learning some life skills along the way. Now I’m sure you’re thinking to yourself, yawn! I don’t want to read another teaching blog… (especially if you aren’t a teacher yourself)… but let me assure you, this is only one small portion of this blog and my life.

As a teacher in general but specifically in Montana, I don’t exactly make the big bucks. Therefore I do have a second job which is bartending and waitressing at a local bar/restaurant/casino. I probably have just as many stories from working there as I do in the school. I promise, I will be giving you doses of both crazy worlds.

Now for my lovessssss…. I am one of those DOG MOMS that considers her fur babies to be more important than a lot of people in my life. Roll your eyes, disagree, whatever, but it won’t change my mind. My dogs have loved me unconditionally and given me reasons to live during my lowest points. Loki is a 10 year old American Eskimo fluff ball, and Lexi is a 3 year old black lab, ball-crazy girl. They are the cutest and you will see alllllll the pictures of them for sure.

I’m small – hence the TINY before the Texan. But if you know anything about Texas and Texans, then you know that is an oxymoron. You can’t be from Texas and truly be “small”. We have big hair and big personalities to match it! I always tell people, I have the same amount (or more) of sass as “normal-sized” folks but it’s just condensed into my lil’ body and trust, that can be a lot more terrifying at times. ha

Some random facts:

I don’t like napkins or old paper in books. I have texture issues and it makes me freak out. Swear, I get goosebumps and feel icky when I touch it.

I am lactose-intolerant but that doesn’t stop me from eating all the cheese.

I have been living with my boyfriend for about half a year now and am the messy one in the relationship, so I’m working on being a bit more tidy.

When I’m home, I live in grey sweat pants and a different shade of grey t-shirt that I steal from my boyfriends drawer (all variations of the same, old, college shirt of his… seriously, the guy has like 13 of them…). I call it my uniform.

I am the definition of fit-ish. I try to stay active and I enjoy working out and hiking, yada yada, but I’m not as dedicated as I used to be and even though I might not look too out of shape, I definitely have been known to pause and catch my breath after a floor or two of stairs.

I’m SUPER into planning events. I would like to work towards doing that as a side-hustle.

I’m not into the use of the word retard or retarded. I will call you out on that.

I have aspirations to travel to all the places and eat all the food. Part of that comes from my childhood pen pal, Rex, who was a chicken. Shit you not.

I’ve always felt that I express myself better in writing. I loved journaling in junior high (shoutout to Ms. Johnson for allowing class time for this). Talking face to face is challenging for me sometimes because I am extremely emotional and prone to crying.

So yeah, there’s a snippet of who I am. I don’t have any special talents or a perfect life, but I think it’s pretty fun and am enjoying learning as I go.