Archive | January, 2013

Confessions of a Tantrum Thrower: Day One

30 Jan

(Prefunk Background: When I went to school we called partying before an event prefunking. I have no idea why, or at least, I didn’t until I looked online five minutes ago. But sometimes I will want to preface posts. So this will be called the prefunk. You’re asking why… I have no answer.)

Onto the…

Prefunk (As a side note, I keep typing that VERY WRONG… I even Googled it wrong, and in case anyone looking at my browser history is wondering… that was an accident.):

You’ll notice there is no picture to this post. That is because I imagined a conversation in which I would ask for my husband’s help. I thought it would go something like this:

Me: Will you pretend to throw a tantrum so I can take a picture?
Husband: No.
Me: Will you take a picture of me pretending to throw a tantrum?
Husband: No.

Oh *SNAP!*

Then the conversation actually went like this…

Me: Will you pretend to throw a tantrum so I can take a picture?
Husband: No.
Me: Will you take a picture of me pretending to throw a tantrum?
Husband: No.

So I win! But I also lose… because there is no picture. So use your imagination.

*STOMPS FOOT*… *LOOKS PETULANT*

The actual blog (Ya’ll are like… finally):

***

Confessions of a Tantrum Thrower Day: Day One

I lied to you gals and guys. In this very recent post, in fact. In my post about world peace, I wrote these words:

“When you just want to sink down on the floor like you haven’t since you were four and throwing a tantrum. All energy melted from your bones and defeat triumphing…”

I have a confession.

I still throw tantrums.

There, I said it.

In my first post I insinuated that I’m mature and adult, and that’s just a big, huge lie. In fact, the last time I melted to the floor in a display of major tantrum-dom I was twenty-something and it was three weeks ago.

I don’t know why exactly that I can’t express myself in a healthy way. I just never learned to cope, and it comes out in foot stomps and floor melting.

I KNOW. It’s really ridiculous and destroys my credibility. But I felt like a big liar as soon as I posted that, and I didn’t think my last post was a good place for this confession.

Confessing I still throw tantrums probably drains my credibility. But when I went through Kristen Lamb’s blogging class and decided to figure out who I am, I promised myself I wouldn’t lie or exaggerate for the sake of this blog.

Now, occasionally something might slip through on accident. For the most part, I promise to be honest with you, readers. You’re all I have. *cues violins*

But seriously, I’m honored you read and visit. I won’t throw tantrums on the blog, or at least, I’ll try not to…

Why? Because tantrums are private. Obviously.

And I leave those strictly for my husband. He’s so lucky. I know you’re all thinking that. I tell him that EVERY DAY.

Kidding. Most days I just look at him and think… Why are you still here? Haaa. That reveals so much more about me than I ever wanted you to know. *melts down to the floor*

Anyway, so I throw tantrums in real life. Yep. I don’t even have an interactive question to add to that.

Tune in Friday to see why tantrum throwing is okay. No really, I have proof. I dare you not to laugh at the video I have planned. I dare you!

And if you find yourself relating to this post, I wouldn’t mind you admitting so in the comments. You know, so I don’t feel like a loser.

Or nod along in silence. You don’t have to make any confessions out loud right now. It might be too soon. Just remember, we’re in this together.

No pressure… Just saying. 🙂

-Kinley Baker (@kinleybaker)

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A Ridiculously Optimistic Resolution for the Pageant Dream of “World Peace”

28 Jan
Peace, Kinley Baker, Romance Author

“Pardon My Nails” by Kinley Baker

Pageant Queens get a bad rap for wanting world peace, but I’ve always secretly wished for the same thing. (And my street cred crumbles) Hear me out…

Seeing questions that ask what we hope for in 2013 on Twitter makes me restless. I want to write “Peace. Safety. Love. For everyone.”

But then I’ll be pegged as the ridiculously optimistic fool.

I ache seeing these news articles where innocent lives are taken and people are victimized in cultures that sanction the abuse.

I want to stomp and shout and SCREAM… at the top of my LUNGS. I want to YELL until I lose my voice that… IT’S NOT FAIR.

That these people deserve peace and safety and love.

Everyone does.

I can’t stand to see these stories because my heart aches for these strangers.

Everyone deserves to have their husband teach them to make breakfast while listening to John Mayer on a Saturday morning while the dog stares on from the living room, wondering what the heck the wife is doing in the kitchen. This just happened to me, and I can’t even express how safe and loved and treasured I felt in those keen, simple moments.

The world deserves peace.

But I don’t have the power to dispense it.

And I feel SO FRUSTRATED. There is nothing I can do to change or save or help the world. I am one voice in a sea of billions.

Who do I think I am? I am only one.

Well, the people who helped the world and went down in history were also one voice. One person. One challenger. One naïve, hopelessly optimistic individual who I have to believe… believed in world peace.

I hope one day we live in a world that’s equal. An impossible dream. A hopeless affliction of core deep optimism.

I want to change the freaking world. I want to make it fair. Do you hear me world?! Do you?!

I’m tired of your wrath.

I’m tired… Of aching and hurting. But more so… exhausted for the people who actually live these horrible events.

We are emotional individuals. We can sometimes inflict more harm on ourselves than others can.

There are people who are hurting SO MUCH. I want to take away the pain. I want to gather it close until it gains so much pressure that it explodes into tiny pieces and finally disappears.

I have no weapons. I have no super powers. I only have words and a voice, and a very small reach. It’s not enough.

Is it enough?

It doesn’t feel like enough.

These are just words. No action.

Words mean nothing. They help no one.

Maybe that’s not true. Words give power to voices. A voice might be the most powerful human instrument of all.

SPEAK. LISTEN. LEARN.

Be thoughtful. Be compassionate. Care.

My hope for 2013 is that the world won’t be so f-ed up. My name is Kinley Baker and if you asked me what I’d hope for, I’ll freaking say… WORLD PEACE.

It’s not silly. It’s not frivolous. It might be ridiculously optimistic.

But it’s not wrong… to hope for a world that’s equal. A world that’s fair. A world that’s safe.

If we stop believing in those things, we’re lost. We have voices that are meant to be used.

This frustration bleeds through my veins. Itches under my skin. Ignites the fiery passion of all that is BEING PISSED OFF.

Have you ever felt that anger? That injustice? That absolute hopelessness?

When you just want to sink down on the floor like you haven’t since you were four and throwing a tantrum. All energy melted from your bones and defeat triumphing. You concede…

World, you’ve won. I can’t take anymore…

Death. Loss. Suffering. Abuse. Assault. Innocence taken.

I can’t take… anymore.

Please. My parents always taught me to be polite. Please, World.

I know there would be no good without evil. But give good a little fire power, will ya? Show us we’re not ridiculous, optimistic, naive, guileless, innocent fools for believing in world peace.

I’m not tall enough to be a pageant queen, and you saw my lacking nails in the above picture (Sorry about that), but I absolutely refuse from this day forward to apologize for wanting world peace.

I challenge you not to apologize. That when people ask: “What’s the one thing the world needs more than anything else?”

Your answer is: Peace. *cue pageant wave*

I want world peace AND I’m a wannabe badass. Deal with the contradictions.

The world isn’t good or bad. But we have a voice the world doesn’t. Let’s use it to spread some good. Don’t we all need it?

You do… I know you do… Because you read to this point of this post.

Now, what are we going to do about it? Well, I’m going to start this blog. This is my first post and heavier than I envisioned starting with, but there you go. I thought it was appropriate (not that appropriateness is my strong suit).

Tune in Wednesday for a confession so ridiculous you will probably laugh or maybe even relate.

Until then, Kristen Lamb showed me an amazing story I want to share with you all. One that might help you when you’re feeling frustrated.

The Starfish Story

I know it’s asking a lot for you to read more since this post is much longer than I plan going forward, but The Starfish Story really hit close to home.

All we can do is throw one starfish at a time. I vow to do the same to the best of my ability.

And welcome! I am ridiculously thrilled to meet your acquaintance.

-Kinley Baker (@kinleybaker)