keep it.

Wow. I caught my breath for about 24 hours and the urge to visit here quickly surfaced. That's great, right?
I went and read my first post of the year and my most recent one to remind myself of my proclamations and affirmations and, dammit, I'm proud that I did what I said I was going to do. Every single thing (ok, maybe with the exception of housecleaning-on a consistent basis anyway).
To then think of where I was on my last post on my birthday to today, a month and a half later, it's as if nothing and everything happened all at once. My life was pretty much handed over to work. It usually is, but I fought harder this year than ever before I think. Although, I think part of me mentally shuts down this time of year and I walk away in such a haze I don't really remember. It was, to say the least, a challenge on so many levels, but not the hardest and I faced it and conquered it.
I laid out a gauntlet of challenges this year for myself, others put some on the map, too. And looking back, I just went for it. It's as if I just found this will deep inside that was just like yelling "LEAP FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, LEAP!" So, I listened. As if I had a choice.
Here's the thing, I don't feel like I'm crossing a finish line as the calendar changes. There's no ribbon to run through, balloons, fireworks. It's no where near over. That doesn't scare me. I want more. Keep pushing. Keep going. Bigger. Better. Brighter.
So I'll keep making an effort to create positive habits.
I'll keep taking better care of myself.
I'll keep traveling, seeing and doing more.
I'll keep putting my energy into the amazing people in my life and I won't even worry about the ones who aren't.
I'll keep writing more.
I'll keep wanting more.
I'll keep saying "yes."
I'll keep being a bad ass.

progress report.

So, here it is. I'm 27.
I wrote a column for my 21st birthday that kind of became the big one in my college bubble. So much so one of my fellow newspaper editors felt it needed to be framed. It's found a wall on every home I've had since.
When I finally talked myself out of bed, I went straight to it and, damn it, if it doesn't still ring true.
I challenged myself in every way possible last year and reflecting back on the six years between then and now that's all I've been doing, sometimes I definitely buried myself in the covers but I always knew I'd get out and face it, eventually.
I started believing in myself again when I was 26. I spent a couple years taking a good, long (really long) look at myself and yelling into the mirror "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING RIGHT NOW?!" Last year, I answered it.
If you haven't been keeping up, I started giving a shit about myself, not giving a shit and most importantly started being myself.
I put myself out there. In so many ways. Dangled on those branches I never would've let myself dangle from before.
I got lighter, both literally and figuratively. I stopped carrying everyone else's baggage and put away my own. Magically and mysteriously the numbers went down on the scale, too.
I continued to question, but I sought answers and let them be when I found them. I didn't toss and turn nearly as much as I used to. I found peace in the direction I was heading in even when it felt like I had a blind fold on.
I started writing more both for myself and for others. I started talking more and saying how I felt and learned more about delivering it in a way that people would actually hear it.
I invested in people that were worth investing in and called a loss and moved on from those who weren't.
I bought myself a car and got a promotion, too. Both of which brought on different challenges, but I've faced them. As far as work goes, I learned if I believe in myself, others will, too, and if they don't they'll get themselves out of the way.
I don't know what challenges and surprises 27 will bring. I'm ready for them. If I've learned anything so far, it's that nothing is ever finished. Every day has to be better. The battle is never over. The sweet is never as sweet without the sour. If you're gonna get what you want, you better make your move. And it's all happening. Always. Just fucking let it.

answers.

I'm savoring my coffee this morning because it's delicious and fall outside and because I don't want to go to work.
It's not that I don't want to work, it's that I don't want the major reality check that is going to slap me across the face, kick me in the gut and, most likely, leave a puddle of tears on the floor.
Today a really important chapter in my life will be ending. Today I will say goodbye to family and leave a home that I built, sometimes by myself, but most of the time with help by some really amazing people.
It's bittersweet.
I have been questioning and writing and thinking for months now about what's next? The answer came quite suddenly. I've been given a new opportunity to make the same impact in a new environment. A promotion that came along with a heaping helping of validation, investment and hope and left me feeling so incredibly valued by a company I have given so much to. It was an incredible moment because it not only the reaffirmed belief in myself by my leaders, but one that came with a peaceful feeling to know I was going in the right direction this whole time and followed with great grief of leaving a group of people who matter so much to me, a family, a team and realizing what it took to get there and what it will take to get there again.
I have so much fear and anxiety about letting them down, disappointing them. The words struggle to come out and most likely will be joined with a crack in my voice.
I have to get through today to move on to tomorrow. To begin a new chapter with new challenges, plot lines and characters.
I know that I can do it, because I already have. I'm a different, better person because of the last couple of chapters and since taking a look from the outside in, I've realized I am in fact, a leader.
I haven't taken a moment to celebrate. I don't feel like it's warranted yet. I'm going back to proving ground, the only difference is, I'm confident that it will be proven and no one will get in the way of it this time.
Today, it hurts, y'all. I've been treading uncomfortable territory the last month or so of making the best decision I can for myself with the consequence of letting important people in my life down. A friend told me that this is prof of how far I've come personally this year, that I'm finally taking a stand for what I deserve and being ok with saying I deserve more. That I've finally found a great amount of clarity and allowed myself to open up to opportunities confidently. When she said that, it was a major moment of accomplishment. I don't just sit down and write about hopes and dreams with my fingers crossed. This exchange is genuine and full of promise to myself and I've kept them. This year has been huge for me personally and with one of the final pieces to the puzzle nestling in, I can't help but be proud of what I've done and excited about what I am able and will do.
I've just got to get through today first.
Tomorrow, bring on the major leagues.

egg drop soup.

I was sick a couple of weeks ago. I champion myself on mind over matter tactics. I've been pretty sick and stuck it out continuing to work for longer hours than a lot of people would on their best days.
This time, for whatever reason, I just couldn't. I had to ask for help. Something I don't like doing. Perfect example, my mother of all people called to ask what she could do or bring me to help me feel better and I couldn't allow the answer to come up my throat. I was listing off things in my head, but couldn't even begin to utter a request because I didn't want her to have to drive all the way over here making stops and taking time out of her day to do it. My own mother, who at one time wiped my ass and cleaned up my vomit and tucked me in and would do almost anything to make me feel better. She called me on it, too in my feverish state.
"I want to help you, but I need you to ask for what will help."
That sentence resonated more with me than just "oh, okay, I'll take some of that egg drop soup and would you mind picking up some NyQuil, the good kind."
It was, this is a bigger issue. I won't communicate what I need or want because I don't want to burden some one else with my life's needs or wants, I can do it myself. And, I can, but that's not the point. When you make it impossible for people to figure out how they can contribute to your life, I imagine they stop seeing the need to be there in the first place. Eventually? Maybe?
It's a tricky, sticky line to tread. For me, anyway. Not wanting to make requests for people in my life because maybe it'll just be a little too much to ask. Swallowing frustration that people don't have the instinct to know what I need from them in my life and when. I guess I need to befriend some mind readers or just start communicating.
The latter I have been tip-toeing toward. Slowly. I've been trying to get over the fact that sometimes I may just have to say, "this is really bothering me and I need your help to fix it."
I've been struggling with the idea of "showing up" in life. I think I've written about it before. I want and need people in my life who show up for me. I feel like I do. I want to celebrate life's success and I want to help you mourn it's heartbreaks, too. I want to be there. I don't know that I have to be invited either. But, sometimes, I feel like no one's in my front row and get frustrated at trying to figure out if they needed an invitation mailed to them or VIP treatment to the front of the line, I don't know. I haven't asked.
I've been discussing this idea with a friend the past couple of days, and she pretty much nailed it. There's a vulnerability to asking for what we need because we just might be disappointed when they can't or won't or don't. It can say more than we want to admit.
Vulnerability and expectation. My kryptonite and Achilles heel right there. That, I know I've written about.
So, I guess the moral of the story is, you've gotta ask for egg drop soup if you want it and think it'll help make you feel better. And, if they can't bring it, well I guess you'll just have to get your feverish ass in the car and go get it from someone else.
Or something.

rally.

So much happened in September making in seem like a long month, yet I can't believe it's October.
I know I wrote about how I was happy alone last, which was indeed a revelation, but September was filled with my favorite people, too.
I let my hair down, y'all. Held my head up high, too. I had a lot of fun doing my favorite things, most of which I hadn't done in a long time, some I thought were no longer in my comfort zone, but got over it quickly. Late nights, girl talk, live music, bachelorette parties, confidentially carrying conversations, basically, I rallied. Finally, right?
My boss has spent a lot of time talking to me about work/life balance in the lat year and I thought it was falling on dead ears as I just nodded my head in agreement knowing that it was a ridiculous notion. Well, it isn't. When I finally started putting myself on a personal level first and worked hard to build a capable, awesome team. It kind of fell into my life. I'm aware the scales tip here and there and will definitely begin to more so here in a few weeks, but I've never been scared or reluctant to work hard.
So, hey October. Let's keep it up. I've been gaining momentum, checking things off, feeling better, moving on.

happy alone.

Now that falls knocking on the door and my personal life is about to jump out of the window (retail holiday, y'all), I'm living it up.
I'm not too sad that I've traded pool days for patio ones, although I will miss the tan for sure. It's kind of gotten me thinking about this last year with my birthday approaching. (I mean, it's a couple months away, but it's how I mark my calendar year. Is that a self-absorbed tendency?)
It's been huge. I think I've learned more about myself this year than I ever have. I've gotten to know myself pretty well, but I used this one to really challenge those realizations to make them into affirmations. I'll save the in-depth reflections for when the time really comes. But, as of right now, I'll say the best way to sum it up is I put myself out there. Clearing toxic bullshit out of your life can do a lot for a girl.
Yesterday, I made one of the best, irresponsible decisions I've ever made. I hopped in the car to make a few hour (at one time very familiar trip) to see one of my favorite bands that I've always wanted to see but have always let myself find an excuse not to. Alone. That's the kicker. I never ever would've done that before. But, I wanted to, so I did. I almost backed out for a number of reasons, some of which were pretty legitimate others were just awkward fears, but I went and it was one of the most gratifying personal experiences. Aside from the fact that the Walkmen are probably one of the most professional bands I've ever seen live or that they do indeed sound way better live than their recordings. I didn't have less of an experience because I walked in by myself.
I drove home feeling like a badass. It may seem small or like not that big of a deal, but it was a huge affirmation on how far I've come with my personal growth. I did it because I wanted to. I did it for myself. Those are two reasons I've had a really difficult time in the recent past justifying. It was this private moment I had in one of my favorite environments in a room full of strangers.
Another thing scratched off on my list. And the best part is, I don't really think there's very much left to check off, if anything. I meant it when I said it was the year of yes.

going and coming.

Last night watching an emotional moment of my favorite show, I was reminded of the exact moment I had in my life several years ago and was overwhelmed with the comfort of it.
See, on the eve of my adventure to that big city in California, I flipped the fuck out. Basically. I was dragging my feet to leave my big comfortable bubble of a house scrubbing the kitchen and bathroom (something that you know rarely got done if you ever visited), doing anything to postpone my departure in absolute panic attack hysterically crying mode. I was scared shitless.
The map had been literally drawn out and money had been deposited in my account by my father. All of my stuff was packed. My best friend ready for the biggest road trip of our lives and I just couldn't take that step out of the door.
I called my mom in the midst of all of this and she said the words that made it all better, " you can always come back, but you can't always leave." Urging me to take this risk (which she didn't see as a risk at all), knowing that it would change my life. She knew I was meant for this life and I felt it was possibly her proudest moment for me to see me take this leap into the great unknown into my future.
That's what she does. That's what great mommas and daddys do. Push you out of that nest, but reassure you as they do.
You can't always go, but you can always come back. Ain't that the truth? With everything? I kinda think so. And I don't just mean with like actual departures. Any scary risk going out on a limb thing in your life.
What's it called? Failure to launch? I talk myself out of far too many things because it may hurt. Either physical or emotionally (which I kind of believe are one in the same). I have the most difficult time escaping from that comfort bubble because nothing can happen to me in it, but that's just a pitiful way to live and I'm exhausted with it.
I've mentioned that my challenge this year is being fearless. I almost bought a bracelet with that word boldly stretching across it to serve as a daily reminder, but thought to any one who knows me that would be the most contradictory thing I could possibly wear on my wrist. But, why not make it true again? It was at one time. Not just the time I did go and, as it turns out, didn't want to come back.
I hope that bracelet is still there, and if it is, there's no going back.

mirrors.

Hey, so, I finally went on vacation. It's always refreshing to pretend for a moment that you live a luxury life and avoid all reality. Cause that's what I did.
Nikki can attest to the fact that I turn into a giddy little girl at the very sight of water and sand, add a trashy book/magazines and beer to the mix and you've uncovered my happy place. Not a care in the world in this little blonde head.
I'm always reminded that I have to live at the beach. My goal is to retire at 30 and just sit and stare at it until I can't see it anymore. I do wonder, however, if it is possible to take it for granted when it becomes your every day, but I can't quite come up with any way that could be true.
My only dose of reality was delivered by a couple who sat under the umbrella to our left. Here we all were in my happiest place on earth and she sat hiding under the umbrella with her iPhone inches away from her face taking pissy calls from work as her boyfriend tried to lighten her mood. She was so uptight and on edge and it frustrated the hell out of me.
I wondered how a girl like that could get a guy like him and how dumb she was to not realize what she had right in front of her, both the guy and the beach. She was short and whiny with him and made it so easy to judge her as I turned the page and cracked open another beer and ordered a Bloody Mary around noon.
I made a secret vow to never be like that, though, if I'm honest with myself (and I've gotten pretty good at that) I know that I've been her before. As hard as it is to believe you can take things you have for granted we do and maybe that even includes the beach. Maybe.
I wanted so bad to be that stranger's wake up call. To put a mirror up to her so she could see all the things she was missing because her iPhone was the only thing in her line of sight. But, I realized maybe she was mine? Maybe she was a reflection of who I used to be? My iPhone was stowed away except for when I used it to soundtrack our day and I banished all thoughts of work because I mean really there's nothing I can do almost 1,000 miles away. I've taken relationships for granted for sure. Not seeing who was sitting next to me for all of the good they're bringing into my life, just blinded by the things they aren't and, most likely, weren't really capable of. Unrealistic expectations derived from what I thought love and life and boyfriends should be.
So easy to sit on that high horse isn't it? But, for real, I've had a lot of time to think (and over think) who I was and who I am and who I want to be and I'm happy to say that even though I haven't been in a relationship in some time, I can see through my friendships that I'm not the distracted, self-absorbed friend I used to be. And, unfortunately, sometimes it takes losing a few things (like your mind, for one) to realize it when you finally look in the mirror and take in everything standing before you.

makin moves.

I've had this weight of "what have I done?" sitting on my chest the past few days. Only now, I kind of just slapped myself across the face and answered myself, "Exactly what you should be doing, dumbass."
So, let me back it up. I've been dealing with the "what am I doing? where am I going?" questions for, oh, I don't know, always, but have had more of a need to start answering those questions and have kind of felt backed into a corner. No one's keeping me there, I just couldn't move.
So, just like my best friend reminded me over drinks the other night, "If you're gonna get what you want, better make your move." And, I did.
I asked a former peer and friend if I could write for two local magazines she's now the editor of. I felt a little bit like I was going out on a limb, but definitely a sturdy one. I was excited by her response, which was excitement as well.
And, then, the assignment came. It wasn't the topic that put the lump of dread in my coffee that morning, it was the "oh, shit. I don't know how to be a reporter anymore. I hate doing interviews and ohmygod deadlines." That was the weight that took residence of my chest. Just total dread. I don't have time for this. I don't want to have to dig up sources. I don't know how to write like a reporter anymore. Where's my AP Stylebook? I probably need a new one because its as outdated as me. I can't. I don't. What have I done?
I did what I used to do. I spent the weekend partying with friends and avoiding any shred of responsibility that could possibly make its way into my line of vision and then Sunday got here.
I had made an appointment to interview the man in charge of the art exhibit I had been assigned to write about and I did possibly everything I could've done to put off making that call until it got right to the minute that it would look unprofessional to not dial those numbers.
And, y'all. Let me tell you. That reporter hat went on my head so fast I didn't know how it got there. It was an amazing conversation and I just felt that fire I had mentioned get warmer and warmer. I beelined for my computer as soon as I got off the phone with my little yellow legal pad and just poured it out. Already over the word count I had been given and was worried I wouldn't be able to fill it to begin with.
Turns out, this source was a former editor and senior writer for Southern Living magazine. Turns out the subject matter of this particular story is one that I used to be so passionate about. It brings all of my forgotten loves back into my life. Writing and history and art and people. Stories and life.
Are we onto something? Are we getting somewhere? No, really, what am I doing? Where am I going?

letters.

So, a couple of weeks ago (maybe? I seem to have no concept of time anymore and I could check, but I'm not) I wrote about personal information overload and questioned what it would be like if all we had for long distance communication was the actual mail that a person actually writes and then other people actually carry from one box to another at its final destination. And, I'm not just talking about bills, credit card offers and grocery store advertisements (because that's all I was starting to believe was allowed to be mailed.) I'm talking "here's what's going on in my life, now tell me yours" letters.
Well, my oldest friend. The one that knew me when I rode a bicycle for entertainment and lived down the street and carpooled to everything wrote me a letter to help me answer that very question, so I'm gonna share it with you: yes. It is a better, more meaningful way to really keep in touch with someone. (duh)
First of all, when I opened my mailbox that afternoon and saw an envelope with familiar handwriting written on it it was like finding a treasure. I plucked it from the pile of trash that usually ends up there and opened it as fast as I could.
I read it in her voice like they do in movies and for the first time in what felt like a really long time I felt connected to her. No distractions. I was totally focused in on her one sided conversation and I couldn't wait to start penning down mine.
Six pages later and a hand cramp, I felt like I was actually saying something. I put a lot of myself in that letter. I really thought about how I wanted to respond unlike a normal conversation where you just kind of blurt out the first thing that comes to mind to keep it alive because I knew she would really hear me, you know? If not for the fact that she can re-read it to actually absorb what I felt the need to write in six pages, but because the damn thing was six pages! I don't even remember what I said.
That brings me to the other reason I really loved it. I can't take those words back. They belong to her now. I said them and breathed life into them and they are now living a life en route to New Orleans I have no control over. I was fully aware of this when I sealed the envelope. I better be able to live with these words being out there and, the thing is, I can and I feel a little bit of freedom in that.
Which reminds me, a couple of months ago, a friend showed me a huge stack of letters he had tucked away in his room at his parents' house. There they were in my living room, all the letters girls had ever written him. Covered in bubble letters in colorful envelopes words girls felt they had to say to a boy they probably barely knew and here he was probably 10-15 years later sharing them with me. He doesn't really know these people anymore and probably never will. He did find the need to keep their words and was excited to rediscover them and, I would guess, have them join the stack of letters he may have living at his apartment now.
I mourned the fact that I felt the need to discard all of the ones that had been given to me. Professing things that were so sweet and powerful and loving because I felt like they were lies now. I had to rid myself of them. But, I remember them. I can still see some of them clearly. I wish they were in a forgotten shoebox buried under my bed, but I guess they very much are buried in my mind.
When I write something no matter if it's with my thumbs on a tiny little iPhone (like now) or all of my fingertips on a keyboard or with my entire hand around a pen, it means something. I'm taking something that exists only in my head and breathing life into it and making it something real in the universe.
So, you better fucking mean it because it may just live in a shoebox under someone's bed as a tangible time capsule of who you were in that very moment with words you felt so needed to be said that you wrote them, licked them for security and gave them to a stranger to give them to someone who is about to really see you.
So, what's your address?

matches.

I've been finding myself pondering the "what's nexts" quite often lately. Catapulted mainly by that "what the fuck am I doing?" moment I mentioned about a week ago.
I'm good at my job. That's the thing. That's what's kept me in it. Pushed me onward and upward. Why wouldn't I keep going? I've become a leader. The one people ask advice from. The one who delivers results. I take pride in that, but am I passionate about it? To a degree.
I don't know if I could pin point a "dream job" for myself and I often wonder if I could and if I got it, would I wake up every day on fire about doing it? Are there really people out there who can really say that without even a whisper in the back of their head saying, "well, kind of, almost every day." Although I do believe that some people can be blissfully happy almost all of the time, I don't think that's in me. Why? Because I do have that drive in me to be better and when I'm not the best I beat the hell out of myself about it. I create the struggle so I can taste the sweet victory eventually. Both the big, juicy ones and small, subtle ones. When I say I'm gonna do something and really, and I mean really, mean it, I pretty much always do. Eventually. So, I take comfort in the fact that my goal check list I've made for myself will continue to have things crossed out. Eventually.
So, should I switch gears and start from scratch or just keep going onward and upward with the tried and true? Would I be happier as a teacher? Or should I try to go back to journalism? Or maybe just get a job that's nothing more than a job? Something that I just show up to, complete tasks and go home at five on the dot every day? Could I? Should I? Sure. Maybe.
When I commit, I commit. That's the thing. That I know to be true. I've proven it with the things I've done, the relationships I've been in. I stay until there's nothing left. Nowhere left to go. Nothing left to burn (and, sometimes, I have set myself on fire).
I miss the fire. That passionate burning fire on so may levels. I feel like everything in my life is just kind of warm, getting colder by the minute. And I'm frustrated because I know exactly where the matches are, I just can't find a damn thing to strike them on.
But, I'll keep looking, don't you worry.
I'll start rubbing twigs together and blowing if I have to.
We're getting warmer.

notifications.

As addicted as I am to my iPhone (made painfully clear after it was stolen and I realized it was like I was missing my right hand), I'm beginning to wonder if it's more like a thorn in my side I keep digging at.
By that I mean, I'm constantly checking all forms of social networks, emails, texts and googling any thing I possibly question so I can immediately have the answers. It's the only thing that shares my bed with me these days. It's the last thing I look at before I go to sleep and the first when I wake up.
I know what's going on in the lives of people I really shouldn't know about anymore. Sometimes it's a hysterical shit show, others like a train derailing. I wondered the other day if I didn't have such a living breathing connection to almost anyone I've ever known how would I hear about the scandals, gossip and other events. Would I get a letter in the mail saying, "I don't know if you want to know, but I heard ...." and would it be more eloquent? Easier to swallow? I wouldn't have the means to investigate, I'd just have their word for it, I wouldn't have to dive in to the pile of shit that's really none of my business anymore. If we were still relying on the mail, I'm sure we'd have much more important things to talk about than trashy hook ups anyway. I hope? (not to mention I may not be as unnerved about the destruction of the English language. I mean, doesn't it take more effort to spell things in such a bullshit way anyway?)
I could sit here and say, I don't want to know, so don't tell me. But I've developed such a destructive appetite for it now.
A few days ago, I friend was confiding in some of their not so proudest moments and I told them I wasn't judging because I've been there and done worse and realized, really, no one knows those things except for the people I shamefully shared those moments with. And, I wondered how I managed that then, but now, it somehow feels so natural for me to broadcast it? Granted, I still go quiet when I'm trying to stomach myself, but I've also been a lot more forthcoming with these tragic details.
But, then, what it really comes down to, is that I'm still invested in and part of people's lives I truly care about literally all over the world. I get to celebrate daily triumphs with them and know when they're hurting, too. I just have to narrow my sites in on that group of people that genuinely share that same care for me, too and stop rubbing my own nose in the matters of people who clearly don't give a shit about me anymore.
I've become more aware of that line lately. More accepting of the past being the past and knowing its time to move on and that person has made their exit from my life (or I've pushed them out, either way). Wouldn't I be happier when I stop stacking up my success (or lack of) to those who were never really on my playing field anyway? I think so.
So, I'm working on quitting you. Focusing on the things and people that are in my life for a good reason and looking the other way from the ones who aren't for better reasons.

heart of glass.

Today I faced a lot of personal emotions.
I almost broke down at work on the sales floor because I just let all of my frustrations hit me the moment I got out of bed. The first customer I had talked to me like a dog and I bit my tongue as hard as I could to keep my job and when she left I had a "what the fuck am I doing?" moment and really began to question a lot of things, especially myself.
I almost cancelled on a friend to go to something I've been looking forward to for about a month to have a pity party of one at home. But, I got it together and went.
That's what I really want to talk about.
A local theater was having a special showing of one of my favorite movies that also is so deeply emotionally embedded in me. I feared the flood of memories that would come back watching it, but wanted so much to experience it again, especially in a theater.
So, I did.
We walked in and the music was playing and it took my breath away for a second. The flood gates opened. I held them back.
Amelie was a completely different experience for me. I sat with a grin on my face for most of the movie, but also knew the scene would come that a lump would form in my throat and I might have to look away.
It did.
I did. But, only for a second.
It's so frustrating that I can't shake those feelings so, so many years later. But, also so amazing that the heart holds on so tightly for so long. I wonder if it'll be forever. I don't want to fear that.
It was different because I finally got it. I thought I did before, but the message of the movie just now hit when it needed to.
I never remembered that it was about putting yourself out there. Taking risks. Not fearing love. Turns out that's the story of Amelie wrapped up in her world of doing-good in a rose, green and gold tinted world.
I finally get that this is the lesson I'm meant to learn this year. Last year it was about forgiveness, this year it's about being fearless.
Just a few days ago I had a patio conversation with a long lost friend about this. I was telling him about heartache and loss and how I just couldn't let anyone in again cause I just don't want to go there. I've spent so much time protecting myself, fighting for myself I've created a padded world that I don't want to escape so I don't have to feel those things again.
But, among the new lessons learned, I was reminded of how incredible those firsts moments of potential love feel. The overwhelming, weak knee, pit in your stomach, lump in your throat feelings that just make you feel alive. You never realize how numb you've been until those feelings hit you.
The thing is, I don't know when I'll feel it again. I don't know who those feelings will be for. But, I for damn sure know that I want to feel them again and I'm accepting that the opposite weakness, pits and lumps may be a consequence.
After all, "my little Amélie, you don't have bones of glass. You can take life's knocks. If you let this chance pass, eventually, your heart will become as dry and brittle as my skeleton. So, go get him, for Pete's sake!"

latitude, longitude.

It's hard to write a love story about the south when it's hard to be alive in summertime Louisiana right now, but I'm gonna try.
You know, it's true what they say about not knowing how much you love something until you don't have it anymore. As much as I used to believe I wanted to escape the south growing up, after my first extended venture out of it, I almost kissed the ground when I returned.
I fell in love with it half way across the country and as soon as I hit the Louisiana line, I rolled the windows down as the landscape turned bright green and I swear to you I could smell the sweetness in the air and I knew I was home.
I fell in love with California for sure, but now looking back, I have a hard time deciphering if it was the place or just who I felt like I was there. I was the truest me I think I've ever been. People hung on to my slow southern drawl and complimented my laid back demeanor. I never knew I had southern charm until I became Miss Louisiana to a group of big city Californians. I dispelled the myths and proved the cliches true.
I returned tanned and excited to bring back tales of a different life, but more so excited to dive into southern comforts and embrace the things that made me who I am even though I never would've admitted it before.
Years later as I continue to try to figure out my "plan" and "what's next," I just don't see it mapped out too far away. I absolutely want to continue to explore, I just don't know I want to settle anywhere else anymore. I love the electricity of new places and experiences, but like I said, I think I'm more addicted to the way I feel in those places than the place itself. We've all learned by now that life doesn't change with latitude and longitude, it happens in your soul.
It just seems like the more days that pass the more simple the needs and wants become out of life. You start narrowing in and figuring it out and broadening boundaries at the same time, you know?
However, I can't allow this southern, comfortable life I've built hold me back from those big, risky things I still very much want out of my life.
That's the line I've been straddling for quite some time. Over thinking, not enough leaping. Just because that's the way it was then, it doesn't mean it's the way it'll be now. A big southern life is possible. And let me be clear, I'm not just talking about sweet tea and fried chicken. I'm talking horizons without skylines and suffocating heat and southern gentlemen and days on the lake and stars at night and "y'alls."
Lots of "y'alls."

right next door to each other.

I learned a lot this past month about many of the people in my life and myself. Somehow. For a minute there, I did lose myself in the hustle and bustle of life and, as it turns out, death, too. I never really had a moment that my brain shut down on my to-do list to process what was going on around me and then, this morning, the puzzle pieces started finding their matching nooks and crannies.
My family changed almost over night. Actually, pretty much literally. Life and death really do live next to each other.
Baby Noah is here and I've watched my parents and his become different people with different names. Softer, nurturing names that suit the people they are becoming. I've never seen any of these people around babies, but it has been amazing to watch priorities shift and literally see what love looks like. To hear my mom sing the same lullabies to him as she did to me or see tears in my father's eyes the first time he laid eyes on his first grandson and my sister's world stop and change direction while my brother-in-law beams with pride and hope for what's to come for his first son. It's all amazing and overwhelming and so damn important and even though my life started moving faster, I'm so glad I found the pockets of time to watch it all happen.
My dad's evolution really went full speed a couple weeks later when he was literally broken by having to let go of his little buddy, our cat Frasier. He tried so hard to fix him and was so mad at himself that it was out of his control. If you would've told me that that little flea ridden kitty that was dropped off at our house almost 20 years ago would've changed my father's life, I wouldn't have believed you, but I might've paid closer attention. It was the very first time my dad couldn't hide his hurt and it was difficult to watch, but I learned more about him that day than most of my life. What he probably doesn't realize is that by finally allowing us to see him broken, he is so much stronger to me.
And, me? I'm not real sure. I've had a sore throat the past couple of days and I'm starting to wonder if it may be because I've been trying to swallow some bitterness. I'm a little disappointed in myself feeling like I've turned my back on someone I swore I never would. I know it seems like I have but I'm really just straining my neck to look the other way until I'm ready to face it. I just have this overwhelming urge to move forward and I'm so tired of turning around that I now realize I've been going in circles for far too long. I can't go back there again.
I'm catching my breath though. Moving on and forward. If there's anything I've learned the last month, there is so much life left to live and I better get to it. No looking back.

basically.

How/why do we forget that just like when we were little sometimes an ice cream cone really can make you feel better?
This was a major moment for me today. I have had a string of not so wonderful, mostly exhausting days and today was the first day I got to take an actual lunch break outside of the store and I gave myself an extra treat of an ice cream cone which I've done maybe once ever and I swear to you I was a different person about four licks in.
That's all it took and I was back in the game. Good to know.
Things have been moving ridiculously fast. The fact that we're a week into July seriously blows my mind.
In one of my last posts, I mentioned that I ha lived a lot of life in just a week and it hasn't really slowed down. In fact, it just sped up. So much so, I really haven't even wrapped my head around it as I sit here trying to decide if I'm ready to go there or not. I'm not
But, I will summarize a few things I've done.
First of all, I realized about a week ago that in the last year, I've lost 30 pounds. About 20 of which since January. I haven't really been making an effort as far as dieting or introducing a new work out regimen, like I mentioned not so long ago, I just started giving a shit about myself. I don't see it at all other than the belt I've been wearing for years is now buckled on the last notch, four away from where I used to wear it and my "skinny" jeans are now saggy in the butt and have to be worn to my belly button with said belt. Feeling really cute lately but just haven't felt like trying to find new clothes just yet. not to mention time but I'm ready to stop beating that one into the ground.
In that Augusten book I was telling you about, he talks about weight issues an he pretty much nails it. If you take pressure off of yourself and just live how you want to live and reasonably, it stops being an issue. I kind of just proved it. Also, I am willing to argue that some of the weight that is no longer accounted for on my bathroom scale is baggage I've rid myself of. Because that's the only thing that has made me feel lighter.
The other thing, I quit smoking. Again. I pretended to be a closet smoker for about a year after quitting for several months. And in that year, I got bronchitis three times. I got the message. It has been hard, but also easy. I probably will puff on a cig from time to time but I definitely don't want to be a smoker again. I've been amazed at the money that's been left in my bank account and just feel better in general. Really glad to have that off my to-do list.
So, that's kind of where I'm at. Crazy busy with work and life and death, but still able to move forward. That's a really powerful thing to learn. I'm the queen of bullshit excuses and I've finally run out of them or just gotten tired of making them. There's always time to make shit happen, if you really want it.
I think that's the real question to ask yourself.
So, basically, ice cream does fix things sometimes and excuses never will.

i don't blame you.

I've expressed some controversial opinions about the resurgence of Fiona Apple and Chan "Cat Power" Marshall that have not been received well.
I have freely admitted that my experience with their latest efforts is limited and not purposeful as they have most often occurred commuting to or from work. I have, at times, and very much would consider myself a fan of both ladies and can easily muster up several memories of driving or riding in cars sobbing and singing to their songs. You can't? I got plenty for us all. Bitches were sad and then mad and I was right there with them. So why now am I not connecting?
Here's the awesome part: I'm not sad or mad and there's no one I feel an overwhelming urge to write a letter to and include the lyrics to one of their songs and leave it outside of their bedroom and bust back in that house an hour later to get it back before they got home. I think I ended up giving it to him anyway. Have I said too much? It was a way long time ago.
The point is, I'm not connecting to that right now. So much so that I won't even allow myself to go back to a time where I could connect to it. The next time my heart breaks don't you worry, I'll know who to invite to the slumber party of misery. Dear god, I just hope it won't involve letters and please, please let the ones that did get delivered not exist anymore.
I will, however, still jam the shit out of "Paper Bag" and "He War," but please don't play "Good Woman" around me ever. I don't want to go down that downward spiral of tragic emotions.
I mean, I just don't feel like hating everyone right now or dwelling on the fact that love can be one of the most painful things ever. I just started making myself believe it's one of the best things ever again.
The clenched teeth singing Fiona does get under my skin though. I'll learn to get past it. I still and will forever and always stand by my feelings toward Joanna Newsom (you know she's with Andy Samberg? Weird.) I can't. She will never have an invitation to my sob fest bitch party.
I've just got some livin' and hopefully some lovin' to do before the invites can go out on that one. I know you're all dying to be on the list. You'll probably be a VIP.

i mean.

The words "I mean..." come out of my mouth so much I don't even notice it. It's a part of a lot of my friends vernacular. I don't know where its origin came from, but in conversation with one of them, it holds meaning, many of them really. And, absolutely nothing at all at the same time.
That's my constant predicament. I need everything to mean something even when it means nothing at all. I will dig for it. Sometimes I feel like a soothsayer looking at chicken wing bones to get some answers. It's how I come to terms with everything even some things that most people never need to come to terms with. I mean, (see?) if I were to word search just this blog for the phrase "everything happens for a reason" I'd probably be embarrassed how many times it surfaced. Most of the time, it's a really positive mentality, but then there are times the blessing becomes a curse. I start dissecting an event from my life and seek meaning in the most meaningless. I'm a pro at reading between those lines, but I might misinterpret it from time to time.
It's exhausting, but it's my process so I have to come to terms with it. For real though, most of the time I'm right. At first, I'll probably make those bones mean something, I'll interpret that horoscope to mean what I want it to, over exaggerate little things to make them mean bigger things. So, well see. We always do. Eventually.
But, I mean, really, where would we be without wishful thinking?

living.

This was one of the longest, most exhausting, exciting, frustrating, but, most importantly, amazing weeks ever.
I'm really good at stretching myself too thin, but if it's gotta be done, it's gonna be and at the very least I will have tried really hard.
So, the precious Noah was born. It was one of, if not the most, special things I have ever been a part of and I am so glad I didn't miss a second. It was amazing to see how quickly life changes along with every one in it. I really can't put into words yet what it felt like, but I will never ever forget the first time I laid eyes on that child and how overcome I was with love for him.
I mean, how do you really follow that? There's really nothing worth mentioning after that.
I just lived a lot this past week. Let go. Lost it. Laughed. Slept a lot and then not much. Over-thought it. Forgot about it. Got a little weird. Had a little fun. Life, that's what we'll call it. Crazy.

good morning.

I've literally been laying in bed awake for most of three hours. I even got up and literally left the house to go get coffee and came home and just couldn't resist diving back in.
I had the most luxury sleep last night. I woke up to the sound of rain pounding on the roof at about 2 am and pulled the covers up and relished in it.
If my house used gas, I'd blame it on a leak. I won't beat myself up for being lazy. It's just this state of blissful relaxation I don't want to disturb.
Again, another thing I wish I could bottle. I'd have quite a collection, dontcha think?

luxury of time.

Where does the time go though really? On a large and small scale?
It's so strange to catch yourself in a moment and realize so much time has passed since (fill in blank) happened.
That's what's been blowing my mind lately, but I won't get into it much deeper than that.
So, here's what's been making me happy in the most recent gap of time:
My spotify playlists. Still doing them. June is very Paul Simon which brought me to the Vampire Weekend connection some summertime Beach Boys and some other jams peppered in there. I listen to these playlists while I'm doing something maybe not so fun to enjoy it or to tune out and de-stress.
Pool day with my sisters (the biological one and my chosen one) too much sun and maybe a little too much to drink, but both of those things are temporary.
The Paul Simon documentary about Graceland. Came along just as I was loving some of those songs again. Love how it works out like that.
Text messages. I've got a couple threads going that genuinely brighten my day with a laugh or just a smile.
Tan lines and freckles. They just make me feel better. I won't say that I'm not concerned about the potential consequences, but I will say I try not to think about it as I bake.
Obnoxiously bright colors. They're making their way to my nails and my wardrobe and they're just fun.
One more week til Noah. The excitement in my family is something I will truly cherish and am so thankful I was here to feel it. Can't wait to see him, I don't know if I'll be able to handle it.
I feel myself opening up. I see it, too. I really want to let people in, take chances, risks and just see what happens, because I'm confident it'll be ok, either way. I've realized when you let people give a shit, sometimes they actually do. Magic, right? Kind of. I'm going with it.
So, I'm feeling good. I'm kind of trying to bottle it and remind myself that it's really the simplest things that make the biggest difference. The next month will be extremely busy with work, and as for the personal, my ultimate challenge of all of these little lessons I've been collecting is that I don't have to sacrifice myself. I can walk in my house, turn on the music and do the things that make me happy. And, it'll be over, said and done before I know it. That's how time works, right?

truth.

Sometimes when I read a book, I honestly get pissed at how simple it is. "Oh, really, that's ALL it takes," is what rolls through my head as I finish the last page, close the book and make its new home on the shelf.
I told you I got the new Augusten Burroughs book and that I was conflicted about devouring or savoring it. I did both. I started it with heavy eye lids in bed one night until they weighed a million pounds. On my next day off, I took it to the pool and knocked out most of it in an afternoon floating in the pool. And then, it was almost done and I wasn't ready for it so it sat there teasing me for a few days. I finished it this morning on my patio.
It was so simple even though it was about some of the most difficult topics in life. As I was reading it, I wasn't pissed at the simplicity of it all, more so that no one in my life had ever had the balls to be so honest about the subject matter. It's just like hey, this is life, some of it is really hard and it sucks, but if you don't get over that, you're not living. Thank you.
So, as I hoped, it has inspired me, maybe not entirely to write (although here I am literally moments after it joined the family on the shelf), but to just get over it and move on. If you want more for yourself, get over yourself and do it.
I mean, the title isn't deceptive, it is very much a self-help book, but one that is easy to digest because it's just like "hey, no, for real though, this is real talk about (insert subject here that you're scared to have real talk about)"
So yeah, that's all it takes. He doesn't have any professional credentials to give advice or state the facts, just life experiences and tons of it. Been there, done that, here's how I survived.
It just got real, y'all. Stop talking about it, do something about it. Message received. Maybe it's been delivered before, but I wasn't ready to hear it? Got it. Loud and clear.

finals week.

It's amazing when you don't know the burdens you've really been carrying around until they start to lift and you physically feel the change. It's almost like I've been holding my breath for weeks and finally gotten to take a deep long inhale and catch it again.
The past few weeks have been like a final exam for me with so many things in my life. I won't recount them all, that would be really redundant because I have been processing things on some level here. But, for the first time, I've truly allowed myself to back far enough away from a situation to realize I can't own it. I won't. I won't let myself feel bad about it. I won't question myself.
I try really hard to do right by the people in my life. It's a selfish thing really. I can't handle going to sleep with unresolved issues. I can't walk away. It's a blessing and a curse and I've definitely seen the extremes of both ends of the spectrum.
I've sought out a lot of resolution to situations in my life recently. I have examined them from any possible angle and while they didn't work out the way I had imagined, they worked out the way they needed to.
I can't control how someone feels about me or how they choose to act towards me. Just how I feel and act. That's pretty simple and very "duh," but it's something I've struggled with for, well, pretty much always.
There will always be something that needs resolution, but I now realize, to a certain extent, it'll happen on its own terms. When it's meant to. How it's meant to. And, sometimes that just has to be enough.
I can bend over backwards and sideways and turn a blind eye and the other cheek all day long, but at the end of the day, I'm the one who feels the repercussions from that, not them. Meanwhile, the red flag has been waving in my face the entire time.
However, reaching the end of the road with no words left to say that haven't already been said and being able to walk in a different direction is a pretty great feeling. I won't rub your nose in it, you'll realize it soon enough and if not, well, I have to be ok with that, too.
Ultimately, I passed the test. I struggled on some of the answers, but I did it. I've caught my breath. The weight has been lifted.
It's all happening. I'm getting somewhere, y'all.

catch me.

There are some people who may think I'm ridiculous for truly wanting to live in my hometown again. I mean, I know there are. However, the one thing that made me long to come home was my family.
(sister, just stop reading now.)
As mentioned previously several times, I went through a bit of a rough patch for a little while and the only people who really knew it were my family. All of them had really encouraging, supportive, loving words to share with me in some of my darkest moments between my sobs on the telephone.
There was this one time my brother-in-law came to town for some business and we had dinner. The first time he and I had ever truly spent time together alone. I mean, two of the people who work for him were with us, but they barely spoke English and once he helped them navigate the Outback menu, he had one of the most honest conversations with me some one I really didn't think knew me all that well had ever had and though he might not remember it, it has always stuck with me.
He told me some things I didn't really want to hear because I knew they were true and it shocked me that he saw it, but he also shared how important I was to him and my sister. I thought about that conversation tonight while at their house and almost reached over to let him read my palm because everything he said that evening is exactly how it turned out to be.
The best one though was that he told me my sister needed me. Her and I, we've had our ups and downs as siblings usually do and I'm almost certain we'll have a few more rounds, but the absolute best part of me living here is that we have gotten so close. She's been there for me through some really difficult things, but she's also been there to celebrate my successes. I've been there for her best and worst, too, but most importantly for me, I've gotten to watch my sister become a mother. She has never looked better or been happier than she has been this last year or so. She's growing and changing in so many ways and it is all for the better.
We had lunch a few days ago and her eyes welled up with tears (a pretty common occurrence these days) as she apologized for everything being about her lately. Are you kidding? I've never been one to crave all eyes on me, don't let the fact that I choose to write only about myself fool you. I prefer to be the observer, to soak it all in and it has been one of the best experiences ever to stand on the side lines for this. I'll have my moments. I don't know when, but they'll make their way on the calendar eventually and I know she'll be the one throwing parties and helping me through each one of them. Only now that we're older, a little more confident in the very different paths we've both chosen, It will all be even better.
While I know we've both envied each other for different reasons from time to time, I love that after following such a treacherous path, she is now on one that is filled with the best there is with someone who loves her and for all of her. Someone who loves her so much, he loves me so much that I'm just his sister to him (as creepy as it could sound to someone who doesn't really know. He's stepped up the creepy factor by now calling me a sister wife ha!).
Tonight as we were having dinner, I was little blinded by a new ring on her hand and made the comment about how he's set the bar pretty high for any man that may come into my life and he later told me he's going to keep raising it and hopes one day he gets put to shame because that's what I deserve. That's amazing. It's incredible that someone I have known for less than a handful of years genuinely wants the absolute best for me and has helped me get more than I ever would've asked for.
The excitement I have for watching this new chapter unfold in just a matter of weeks is overwhelming. I can't wait to love that baby. And I may never be able to repay them for what they've given me, I will for sure try to match it with my love for that little boy, my brother and my sister.
I've never doubted my decision to move here for a second and if my happiness isn't enough proof I've made the right choice then I don't know what is. The thing is, I know not everyone has a family that truly believes in you and has your back and I know I'm so lucky that I do. Sure, we've got our problems. But there was this one time I felt like I was falling and didn't think anyone would be there to catch me, they were. Always have been. Always will.

new addition.

I got that new Augusten, y'all!
(along with major bed head, some pretty bad roots and that makeup free baby face. Seen below all of the words.)
So excited to step back into his world for a visit. The fact the back cover confidently proclaims that this is the book he was born to write makes me both so excited to devour it and want to slowly soak it in all at the same time. I'm conflicted that I may actually be a gay man on the inside based on my book shelves?
Anyway, it was him and a few others that made me fall in love with real life and all it's disgusting and beautiful truths spilled out on the page over other types of words. That, and a college class a couple years later that lit a personal passion for it inside of me. This book has been needing to find its way to me. It only makes sense that it falls into my lap now that I've already gotten bored with myself and my ramblings after only a short recommitment to writing.
So here's to turning pages and hopefully filling some of my own, k?

tightening it up.

May's lesson: CHILL OUT.
Got it.
I mean, today, I got it.
I'm not going to go into the details in what lead me to this because there's so many and kind of more importantly, they are embarrassing, some of them expensive, but I hear you now, universe, k?
I allow myself to get so swept away, wrapped up, consumed, swallowed, smothered (you get it now, right? It was going to start sounding like a waffle house hash brown order in a second.) with things that I miss details and sometimes I forget what's in and out of my control. I forget to take five minutes to sort something out because I think something else in the present is more important and really it's just not always true.
So, as if you couldn't tell from my last little rant, I had very much been in my first little funk in a minute (which is kind of something to be proud of) I ultimately dealt with it in a timely, positive manner, but I did give in to over thinking for sure.
In the meantime, I've just felt so busy that I left so many things slip through the cracks without me noticing that I ultimately had to (literally) sift through a stack of overlooked things to find a bunch of answers to things I started to panic about. Chill out.
So, I'm off for two days. I'm going to take the last two days of May to catch up, tune out and move on. Along with chilling out, the other thing I've had to realize is that I'm only truly responsible for myself. That's the only thing I have in my control and once again I tried to control the outcome of so many things that truly were just not entirely in my hands and it left me feeling helpless.
At the end of the day, it's just me that I have to wrestle with to find peace of mind. That's been a whole lot easier lately, so there's that, but if I'm not looking out for myself or taking care of myself for that matter, I do end up pretty helpless and not the person I want to be for the people in my life.
I'll allow myself to believe that pool time is bettering myself. I can't do much else at home like bathe because I neglected to realize my online payments for my water bill hadn't gone through in two months resulting in it being disconnected this morning. So there's one of the embarrassing/expensive mistakes I didn't plan on mentioning. Further proof, I'm keeping it real.

defense.

At what point after continually defending and making excuses for someone do you start looking like a fool?
I mean, pretty sure I've got the answer there, but witnessing the explosion is a sobering experience and quite frankly leaves me rather pissed.
If you have to defend and excuse a person's actions to begin with is that the first red flag? I don't want to be bitter and live on a tightrope of no mistakes or I'm pushing you off, but damn, please don't make me eat my words. I don't think I'll be able to swallow them first of all.
I've been extremely uncomfortable and now I'm a little pissed, ok? That whole fool me once shame on you, fool me twice... well... just kidding, shame on me. (I mean, does anyone else miss the hilarity that was GWB's presidency every now and then? I saw the shoe throwing episode on the news the other night and laughed like it was America's Funniest Videos. Not to mention, I was so happy to see Will Ferrell's impression of him again on SNL is was like seeing an old friend... K focus.)
The thing is, I want to believe in you. I want to go to bat for you, if I need to. I realize every one makes mistakes and I'm beginning to wonder if my problem is I prevent people from ever really having to pay for them because I want to protect them, but that's a classic case of being an "enabler" isn't it? I've written about not being able to comprehend how people sometimes forget what's right and decent and the accountability that should come with making the opposite choice and yet I don't until I backed into a corner with a swollen tongue for biting it for so long
Shame on me. But, shame on them, too. Understand, I'm not sitting on my high horse or a pedestal or whatever cliché fits here. I realize I make mistakes, I just try really hard not to keep repeating them. Thank you if you've ever defended me, but damn, I hope it was for something that needed your defense.

needs.

Driving today, I've realized that I've written more about the people who aren't in my life any more for whatever reason than the ones that are in my life for so many reasons.
So, I swore I would never go back to New Orleans a couple of years ago. I meant it, but I knew it wasn't entirely true. However, that city is the home to some of my most favorite people that roam this planet and it was way past due time to pay them a visit. I mean, I like New Orleans and all, but I wanted to be a tourist in their lives, not necessarily their city.
Sometimes it can be overwhelming to be surrounded by so many people that you know give a shit about you. To know people for 10 years (give or take) and still be invested is pretty amazing. Things change, people do, too. We all have and haven't at the same time and yet we keep finding ourselves at the breakfast table even when it's hard to get out of bed in the morning. (That is both an analogy and true statement in the same breath.)
It was exactly what I needed.
It's so easy to get lost in the shuffle of everything that goes on. We all live our own lives every day. Some of us are together more often than others, some of them it will never matter how much time passes we'll pick right up where we left off, but the point is, we're still getting together. And, I'll always wish it happened more often.
I needed to see some faces for the first time in a couple of years and margaritas and brunches and coffee talk and mani/pedis and sex and the city episodes/what does it all mean relationship talks and oysters (and more oysters) and vodka/red bulls and casinos and cross legged chats in night clubs and patio reunions with more vodka and late night fast food and family brunches and porch time. I needed all of that.
Always leaves you wanting more.
But as I drove home, I took comfort in the fact that I feel confident it'll happen again for the next 10 years (give or take). As much as we bitch about getting older, God, we're getting so much better.

burps and backs.

Pandora freaks me out.
I'm sitting here, going on hour 3, beer 2 (I just started those) and several chapters into a fresh book, and a song comes on I've never heard before which kind of starts repeating thoughts that are rolling through my head. I won't name the song because it's kind of a pitiful song and not how I truly feel, just that inner turmoil that kind of comes up like a burp interrupting my happy place.
It passes that quickly though. Like, I feel better now that I've let that come up. It leaves an odd taste in your mouth from the past and you swallow it away with your next sip of beer.
Wow. I really just made an analogy with a burp. I'm breaking new ground here.
The point is, I took a sigh of relief of finally spending a day the way I've been wanting to for weeks and had a slight outburst when I turned around to flip and thought someone I knew was coming to bust up my party of one. Is it possible to like being alone too much? But, at the same time, wish you weren't at certain times during the day? So conflicted.
I mean, it'd be nice for the chair next to me to be occupied (by choice, not surprise , mind you. We all know I don't handle surprise well.), but I'm ok that it's not, too. Today, anyway. But I do need help applying sunscreen to my back. And, like someone who has my back in general.
And, as the song mysteriously changes, I move on back to my happy place for today. It doesn't take much these days, so there's that.

forks.

To be asked "what do you want? Where do you want to go?" by two people who have the power to help it happen for you is exciting and scary.
It's exciting because I'm a really dedicated and passionate person and when the people who are supposed to see that actually do and want to help you move forward, it's like the biggest compliment you can get. Unfortunately, my answer was really vague and filled with "I haven't really thought about its."
To the question of where, well that's pretty open ended. I feel like I am where I'm supposed to be, but maybe that's just because I've found a new bubble to live in? I think that's the scary part.
See, I continued on this journey of turning my college part time job into a full time one to meet my basic needs. My "plan" was to keep working with them so I could really work on what I wanted to do which is write. Only now, four years have past and I don't have much to show for that second part. I mean, I'm starting to, but somewhere in my big dreamer mind, I guess I thought I'd have a bestseller sitting on displays in book stores every where and I'd be living in that bungalow on the beach by now. I mean, there's still time, but it is definitely passing.
It's scary because I could go deeper down this path I had imagined to be temporary. Did y'all know it wasn't going to be temporary? I never expected to have reached the place I have and now to start thinking about going beyond that is just kind of a lot to process. I love living where I do because I really felt this need to be close to my family and now that that need has been met, I know I made the right choice at the time. But, also I've been quieting this internal struggle of not putting down roots that are difficult to pull up because this isn't where the rest of my story takes place. Despite my new found comfort level, that's always whispered in the back of my mind.
Here's what I know. This is how life works. As much as I have this need to be a planner and have things mapped out for the rest of my life, there's kind of no point in laying out the stepping stones and counting on them. I have this tendency to over think, analyze and write the story before the characters (even the main one) have even developed. I get this feeling that I might only be in the first season of this particular show. The past was another series entirely. It's like a slow season one with all of this set up and character development, a few curve balls and maybe a nail biter season finale so you'll stay tuned next fall.
I feel like I need to start answering some questions, because as I was reminded by my father and his best friend, you don't get asked what you want that often in life. Family will always be there, that's what family is for. Friends change, the ones that matter will change with you. Life is unpredictable, so enjoy the ride while you don't have so much baggage to bring along with you.
It kind of feels like we've only have a few episodes of season one left and it's time to tie up some loose ends and create a new story line that y'all can't wait to watch unfold. Don't worry though, it won't end in me cutting off my hair like Felicity. That was a terrible decision.

cause what can you change?

I used to have this no regrets mentality. It's useless and a terrible way to approach life. That's true, most of the time. The other side of it is to just not do something or put yourself in a situation you could come out on the other side of in regret. This was my mantra about 10 years ago. You know, when most decisions didn't hold a whole lot of weight on the rest of my life, at least for me. Easy to say when you're being guided through life pretty closely by parents and other authority figures, you know?
So, the truth is, as I began making bigger decisions that had bigger impact, I kind of started regretting a couple of them. A few times I was really angry at myself. Maybe there was even a time or two that I begged and pleaded to change it. It didn't. It won't.
I've been kind of reflecting on these regrets. They don't sting very badly anymore and when I really look back, knowing what I know now, especially, I almost always take comfort in the fact that it really did happen for a reason and if I had done the opposite all of these other amazing things might not have happened.
This kind of reinforces that wise 16 year old I was. I mean, it really is useless. Sure, maybe I wouldn't have hurt over it then, but I probably would've later. And, not to mention, aren't I better for having gone through it? Hindsight, right?
There are a few things I cringe about when I reflect back, but I'm starting to shake myself out of it much faster at least.
There will be more mistakes. That, I know for sure. I'll pay for them. I'll probably regret them a little, too. Life goes on, always will.
This may well be all very simple, but, come on, if you can really tell me you don't struggle with it, then high fives for you and when can you teach me?
What would life be without what ifs and what does it all means? But, maybe that's just me?
It's just a theme that keeps showing up in almost every aspect of my life from my current tv show selection, the songs that randomly play, the dreams I keep having and the conversations that unfold.
So, I mean, every passing moment is a chance to turn it all around. Not change it, but turn it around. I'll take it.

emergency exit.

So, this week was a huge learning experience. To say the least. I'm about to turn it around real quick.
None of the lessons I learned are real shockers. It's all stuff I should've already known about myself, but I was put in situations on another planet from my comfort zone and I didn't die. So, there's that.
So, yeah opportunity showed up and I said "yes" because I've gotten kind of used to that being the answer at this point, which is a good thing, after the dust had settled I was definitely saying "why?" but I just figured out that answer.
Ok. I'm going to keep it real. So, I said "yes" to a pretty much blind date. What? I know. See, I knew a few things about the dude and the things I did know made me feel like we had more in common than pretty much any one I've ever dated and even some friends (minus many years of history) the only thing that wasn't really considered in the equation was chemistry, but you don't know if it exists or not until you show up, apparently.
And, I did, several panic attacks later. Here's the thing, I've never been on a date. Like a "real" date. Like let's grab drinks and dinner and see what happens date.
So, after not eating all day and trying on every article of clothing I have and even washing some to be sure I had all my options, I ended up just wearing everything that makes me me and comfortable, got in the car, blasting the ac on my pits that were out of control when my anthem came on the radio (I had never heard it on the radio) and I took a breath turned it up and trusted it was a sign to just chill out.
So, I'll save you all the details from here. I met him at the bar, it was incredibly awkward. I mapped out at least 3 escape routes and abandoned all of them for some unknown reason. Like "will you excuse me while I go to the ladies room real quick?" and just fucking bolt out of the back door. No, seriously. But, no, I sat there and got drunk (remember I said I didn't eat) and as the tequila hit, it did get a little more tolerable the less I gave a shit about what this dude thought.
Two hours later and drunk. I survived. I sat there for two hours! I mean, remember that "20 seconds of bravery" thing I wrote about? Well, apparently I had saved millions of seconds of it for this event.
The bottom line is, it was mutual. We never would've seen each other in a totally organic setting and been like "I'm really interested in talking to him/her." And, yet, we did for two hours. The only reason I have any inkling to talk to him again is to laugh about how terrible it was and why did we stay? But, I won't, don't worry.
So, what I learned, right? I learned that I do take things too seriously. If I would've just chilled out and removed all expectations of how that whole thing was going to go, it probably would've been a lot easier. I'm socially awkward enough as it is, but being out in a situation that is so awkward from start to finish is like hell on earth for me. But, I survived. I lived to laugh about it as soon as I got in my car. I had the courage to put myself out there and show up for something I never would've done before. My survival instincts (when I got over the escape plans) was to order tequila (he did, too) and not give a damn. Also, the red flags were there. They totally were and I chose to ignore them because he brought out almost famous lines leading up to our meeting. Really, that's all it took. So, don't be blinded by favorite movie references. Check.
So, I took that leap. I stumbled a bit in the landing. But, I have all of my limbs and no bruises to be attributed to the experience. I'll chalk it up to another experience. I'll take all of the lessons and horrible first date stories with me. I won't let it ruin almost famous or "Tiny Dancer" even though it was drunkenly sang to me in a public setting. I will use an escape route next time (if there is a next time) and, no matter what, my life will go on.
No, you read that right, "drunkenly sang 'Tiny Dancer.'"
I mean, everyone needs a horrible first (and last) date chapter in the book, right? So glad to check that off the life experiences list.

ego breakfast.

One of my favorite lyrics from Cursive that I couldn't really say any better (maybe more eloquently though if I tired) is "my ego's like my stomach, it keeps shitting what I feed it." If you knew me during my Cursive phase, you knew I was going to say that right? Cause if I made you mix CDs it was on at least three of them, right?
Anyway, I'm not gonna go all Freudian on you, but damn my ego/self-confidence/esteem is my fucking worst enemy. (raise your hand if you said "duh" when you read that statement.) I had a conversation with my mother who is a counselor/therapist a couple of months ago when I was doubting good things that were coming my way. It all just seemed too good to be true and my mom had a very Freudian conversation with me, but the point is, I have to start believing that these things are true, are finding their way to me for a reason and I have to basically get my shit together so when the time comes, I don't back away and kick my own ass later. She knows me better than I realize.
So, I've kind of been quiet here about some things that are going on because my ego told me to and I probably will be a little while longer. But, you should know, I've taken a pretty big leap, definitely not the riskiest, but in an area of my life I needed to move on with and if I can just tell myself (my ego) to chill the fuck out for a second, something good just may happen.
"'Cause I'm good enough. I'm smart enough and, doggone it, people like me."
I just quoted Stuart Smiley. I think my mom did, too. I think I'm gonna go now...
But, I mean, it is true. And, that snl skit was the one my mom and sister looked forward to weekly, aside from church lady.
I'm gonna go chop some broc-o-ly. Not really it's 8 am, I just went on an snl/Dana Carvey tangent I didn't see coming.
So, basically, what I'm trying to put into perspective here so I can move on with the rest of my day, is that I took that leap for a reason and I can't change my mind about it mid-air because I'll like die or something. And I may not land in the best spot, but hopefully I'll still have my legs to just move a little further and I'll be there? You know?
I think my best talent, other than dying my hair, is being totally vague. But let's just keep these little affirmations coming and I'm going to do my best to tune out the bullshit in my brain, it gets toxic in there when I let it run wild.

d. i. notsomuch.

I really, really, really wanted this post to be all bad ass and proud with a shit eating grin about omg I'm so awesome I don't need help from anyone look what I just did! It's not going to be at all. (yet another jinx I've put on myself this week.)
So, as previously mentioned, I had every intention of "Edward scissor handing" my bushes out front and all of those extremely exciting things. Well, I woke up this fine Saturday morning and mapped out my day. Start laundry, go to Lowe's to buy cord thingy for the hedge trimmer my dad gave me and possibly some plants and come home and just get after it.
I felt so badass going to Lowe's head held high. I walked in like I owned it and "no, I don't need any help" and of course wasn't asked cause I looked like I knew where I was going and what I was getting. I scoffed a little bit at the ladies looking lost and pushed my cart along. Around the store. Three times. I admitted defeat and asked a question and was given a pretty obvious answer, of course, I wanted to reply that I just needed to know where that aisle was not where the thing was located, but I didn't. It was kinda like stereotypical role reversal like how men don't like to ask for directions because apparently they are supposed to be wired with an internal GPS, I just wanted to feel like I could figure it out, I mean it's a store for crying out loud I'm supposed to know how to navigate it with my eyes closed even though I've never stepped foot in it alone and not following my father to the electrical aisle.
I came home plant-less because I just didn't know what I wanted and plugged that baby in ready to go to town. Only not so much. I made my shrubs look like the back of jj's head that time I cut it so self-confidently one handed on the porch with scissors I probably had since second grade or whatever grade it is that you get to stop using scissors with all the protective plastic and a blade like plastic cutlery. I digress. They looked like shit is what I'm trying to say. And after almost cutting my toes off, don't ask, I made a phone call to my dad asking for tricks of the trade. His response, "it's just like cutting hair." My point exactly.
So, I trimmed them down as evenly as possible and my dad offered to come over another day to help me and by help me I mean my participation will be "do you need another cup of coffee, dad?" This is strike two, if you're keeping tabs.
Next project, wash off patio. Simple enough, right? My patio is disgusting. Kitty hair balls rolled in cig ash and god knows what else. Well, as it turns out, my patio doesn't exactly drain well and I ended up with about three inches of water with debris floating everywhere. I got flashbacks to hurricane Katrina clean up efforts (too soon?) and got my broom and swept the shit out. Once it dries in three weeks, it may look better, right?
So, the moral is, I'm feeling like a little defeated, clueless homeowner. Maybe I should've gotten up those Saturday mornings when my dad would weed eat or mow the patch of grass outside my bedroom window for an annoyingly long time to get me out of bed and gotten my hands dirty and picked up a few tricks of the trade. I only say that here because I know he doesn't read this and if you tell him, I swear to god I'll do something like really half assed to attempt to punish you.
I mean, I just really wanted to feel all bad ass and prove that "I got this," you know? This isn't leading to future love interest job requirements, I think anyone reading this with a shred of feminist thoughts has already rolled their eyes and gagged a little, but I mean, I can put together boxed furniture and check my oil too so stop judging me. I can feel it. I just would like a little help and if that takes me swallowing my pride a little and asking my dad to do it, so be it.
So, there. Turns out I'm not so independent, but maybe with a little help I will be. So contradictory.
So, now, I think I'll go get a beer and sit in the sun. Now, that I'm a pro at.

jinx (?).

So, there's really not much to report. It's been pretty smooth sailing for me with few waves in sight and unusually calm seas (I'm crossing fingers and toes right now in case I totally just jinxed myself).
I've been delighting in all of the goodness that comes along with spring in between its showers. I'm off this weekend and plan on Edward scissor handing (see how I just made that a verb) the hell out of my bushes and going to a painting class with my family so we can paint portraits of our pets (I requested extra black paint for kitty). Speaking of 80 year old woman activities I have planned, I just may have to make an appearance at the next HOA meeting because I have a serious bone to pick with whoever is responsible for making the decision to start re-tiling the pool in March. I should have suffered my first sunburn of the season by now and be well on my way to golden goddess status with my book and beverage in hand. And while I'm on the subject of my neighbors, while I do sincerely appreciate the fact that one of them has neglected to protect their wifi network, I would really appreciate it if they would tighten their signal up because I'm ready to start sophomore year on Felicity. I don't know why I didn't stay tuned in after Dawson's Creek in the late 90s nor can I really explain how I got started watching this show with the hair and the sweaters and the Noels and the Bens, but dammit, I know it's a big deal when she cuts her hair off and now I'm invested in finding out why she made that earth shattering decision.
So, this is what my uneventful life looks like. I'll take it. Also, Netflix is up and running (I guess that was a rather fortunate jinx and hopefully not a foreshadow to the first one I mentioned), so I guess I'll get back to my quiet little life.
Wait, I mean did you really just read this? Bless your little heart.

it's time.

How long have I been quoting "Lover's Spit"? Um, since about 5 seconds after I heard the song for the first time. But, "you know, it's time that we grow old and do some shit" has really taken root finally.

You're welcome for attaching the vid to my thought. Take a moment if you need.
I've had a lot of conversation with friends the past couple of weeks that have made me realize that made me realize I am so ready to grow up, maybe I already have? I have held on so tightly to all of those things I thought I would have done or be doing by now, but have now begun to actually believe that I am. I have some living left to do for sure, and I'm starting to, but it's OK to be grown up about things and do what you gotta do to get where you wanna go.
We're gonna be challenged. There will be forks, y'all. Big decisions, hard ones, too. Sometimes we might not have a say. But, it's happening for a reason. Others it's all on you. If you're unhappy, most of the time you can change it. (who would've thought?) It might take a while. Sometimes it can happen overnight if you concentrate hard enough. One day those crutches you've been relying on for so long can be tossed aside. Wounds heal. (if you stop reopening them.)
I'm going to be honest, I'm sorry. I must have been so miserable to be around the past few years. Never satisfied. Totally closed off. Bitter. Bitchy. (I'm still bitchy, but maybe just in a sassy way? Maybe?) Hopeless. Negative. I can be all of those things still, sometimes at the same time, but the point is, it doesn't stick around for long. Thank you for sticking around for the storm to pass. It was indeed a depression. The cloud's are clearing, the sun's shining, shit's starting to grow.
In an interview I read with Jeff Tweedy says what I'm trying to so I'm just going to let him do it. When asked about the album art for "Sky Blue Sky" this was his response:

"What I see is a very violent image. There's so much energy and chaos. You can look at it several ways. One way would be: this is nature, how do people survive? They stay together. It's the starlings' only defense. You can look at it like a frozen moment of complete chaos. What people do so much--and what the record is getting at--is that people have trouble seeing past that chaos to the blue sky that's always there, even when it's cloudy. Speaking from my own experience, that's the part that gets very upsetting, debilitating and frustrating about depression. You know it's there, but you don't have access to it. In a lot of ways, that image says to me, 'This too shall pass," You can find that blue sky if you want."

That's my view right now. Look at that sky blue sky breaking through.

check, please.

Wait, y'all, it's April?
The months are flying by so fast it's so hard to wrap my mind around. However, now that we're officially a quarter down in 2012, I can happily say my 2012 check list (although on-going) is getting some check marks rather quickly.
Basically, I decided it was, indeed, time to get shit going and like I've said before I stopped waiting for someone or something to really push me forward, self-propelling (ok, with a little help) is so much more rewarding.
I've made so many small changes it's hard to notice I've made them, but the results are coming in and movement is definitely charted. Growth, y'all, is good. Even with the occasional growing pains.
I was asked to write a short blurb about what I've learned so far this year to follow up with a blog series a wrote at the close of last year and there's been so many lessons learned I don't know how to sum it up in 5 sentences or less. That's a good thing, but being concise has never been a strength of mine.
But, I think the biggest thing I've learned is that I am in control. Saying "yes" takes you places. I haven't regained total ownership of being a badass, although there are some things I've realized I'm pretty badass at. I've allowed myself to be and do all of the things that felt right, some didn't work out, most did and with a pretty healthy ratio. I'm cheap as hell and even though I won't even consider paying for things like cable or Internet, that allows me to buy houses, cars and weekend trips to Vegas. I'm still single, but I'm dipping my toe in the pool from time to time, the water's getting warmer, I'll cannon ball into that bitch soon enough. I don't unravel at minor setbacks, I figure it out, move on.
It just all kind of feels like I'm catching my breath after holding it for so, so long.
So I'll be using these April showers to my advantage. Wash as much of it away as you can, please. I got the rest.

chapters.

This month has had its ups and downs for sure, but closing it out, it's definitely been gaining momentum to end on a high note.
A couple of things I've learned this month:
Sometimes really bad, frustrating, bullshit things can bring on really good, happy things and changes if you let em. That stupid wreck that had me so pinched actually enabled me to purchase a new car. Now, I'm really not all that into cars and things of that nature generally. I drove the shit out of my old car happily until about the last year when things kept breaking on it and I knew the end was near but was really concerned about having to buy a new car generally knowing nothing about them and if I could afford a car now that was actually worth buying. Well, I found one and I absolutely love it. Whoever said money can't buy happiness wasn't 100% right, because I've been so happy driving that thing around. Now I know the new car high will wear off, but I feel more confident somehow driving a car I'm really proud to own. I hated that I let my old car get into the shape I did and was starting to get embarrassed about how trashy it was. Also, really proud to be able to do something like that for myself without help, just encouragement.
And, that's the other thing I learned. Being a grown up is kind of like the big leagues. You start to really choose the most valuable players to be on your team and stop letting yourself feel guilty about the people who end up getting picked last or spend most games on the bench. Unfortunately, there's usually a reason for that. I have an amazing team behind me and I am so appreciate of them and so glad I decided to focus my energy on people that will have my back in the biggest ways in the most important moments. It's just been justifying the decisions I've made so far since those decisions really started to matter. To watch someone do literally everything they can for you is so humbling and inspiring and I don't want to lose sight of it again.
I don't know how obvious to the people around me the changes I've made are, but the fact that I see them, acknowledge them and take pride in myself again is just about all I need.
I finally feel like I'm about to turn a page, name, number and start a new chapter and that is just so fucking exciting.