calendar.

So, here it is. February is almost over in just a few hours. It was one of the best months I've had in a long time.
I took a moment to scan through most of the posts from this month and I have to say, I feel accomplished. I finally put a lot of things that have been on my mind and heart out there. To whom? I never really knew. it's probably better that way. It's the first time I've been open and honest about a lot of different things regardless of how vague I made it, each one was a burden lifted in some way. Some much larger than others. You can read between the lines all you want, and I hope you do, but I also hope that I'm not alone and if I made you feel a little less lonely because you could relate, that's amazing.
I am happy. The happiest I've ever been? No. Those times are on their way, I know it. I feel better because I've been taking care of myself in as many different ways as possible. I'm ready for next chapters. It's time for the plot to thicken. Let's throw some new characters in the mix, too. Time to stop playing it so safe. I'll get there.
This writing thing this month is proof that every day is a baby step and you better make the most of it. Some days get you a little further, hell, some of them are going to set you back. Sometimes those are the most important.
I'm excited to keep pushing myself. Questioning things. Seeking better. It's been time to move on for so long now. I've just had this pit in my stomach thinking nothing will ever be better than what was so good before. It's just not true. All of those things are kind of like bench marks now. And incredible ones at that.
So, now we head into March with its ides and its madness and I say bring that shit on. March, you've got a lot to live up to, 'cause February kicked some serious ass. Bring it.
I'm ready. I'm not going anywhere. But I sure am going to keep trying, y'all.

only in dreams.

I must say, I had a pretty legendary night's sleep. The combo of little sleep and lots of fun for a few days mixed with a little pill help made me feel like sleeping beauty 12 (12!) hours later.
However, with deep sleep comes an awakening of my subconscious.
There I was again being haunted in my dreams once more. I don't understand how this person keeps surfacing here when they're so far from my reality now. It leaves me with such a raw feeling in the morning. The story line is always different, the character always there. Why?
I really can't grasp how engrained people can become inside of you. Will the grip ever loosen? They live so deeply buried, I can't find a way to dig them out.
When I wake up, I have this urge to reach for my phone and just say something... Is there a reason I'm having these dreams? Should I acknowledge it in reality? By the time my mind finally fully wakes up the answer is always no, while my heart whispers, "please."
I'm left wondering am I hidden somewhere in them? Do I find my way into their dreams? I have a hard time believing I do as much as I want it to be true.
It's all just a fairy tale. One that will only play out on the backs of my eye lids. Part of me wants the story to pick back up when my head hits the pillow. The other doesn't want to close my eyes only to wake to reopened wounds.
All I can take it to mean, is that I hold onto things too tightly. So tightly I've forgotten I'm even holding on and I have to stop wishing, somewhere deep down, that there's a hand reaching back for mine.
Sweet dreams?

jackpot.

To sum up our trip:
Bethany wins.
Lindley spends.
Jess sins. (not really, y'all. I was a good girl, it just rhymes.)

My feet barely fit in my shoes. But, we came, we saw, we conquered.
Lin left at 4 am this morning and it was so sad to wake up a few hours later without her. It was too much fun and too good to spend amazing time together with GENUINE friends.
I'm done with Vegas, but not ready to be done with the trip.
Last night we had an extremely luxury dinner and I just kind of sat back sipping on my cocktail and this wave of total contentment came over me.
You know, this life can be hard, but it is so worth it when you share the best parts with incredible people. You know, the ones that know you sometimes better than you know yourself. The ones that don't hate you when you're really pinched and whining to go cause you're tired of watching them win on the slots and you never do. (except for sex and the city slot machines. My one and only big win.)
And, more importantly the ones that will still be there at the worst of times.
Friendships take work. They're a commitment and an investment, but it never feels that way unless it's not a real one.
I feel like I invest a lot in the people I choose in my life. I walk around the big ol' casino until one calls my name. I'll put a few dollars in first to see if it'll hit for me, if not I walk away. If I start winning, I'm going to put more in and that's when you really win. Keep placing bets and sometimes, you're disappointed, others you'll hit a bonus round and relish in the pay out. That's why you come here in the first place.
While I didn't really win much on this trip, I hit Mr. Big (SATC jackpot, btw) in the rest of it. I'll keep playing the game with these ladies and it'll never get old. I won't whine about it either, I promise.

cough syrup.

All right. So I missed a day. I feel terrible. But, also I shouldn't be stopping what I'm doing just to blog about it. My girls are still sleeping so I'll steal a moment.
"life's too short to even care at all."
In a good way. I've declared this the theme of our adventure here. We are having the most fun and as much as we never stop doing something, it's always laid back and we're all in for anything anyone wants to do.
So this morning, I woke up first, threw on some clothes and came down stairs to write. On the casino floor.
This trip is exactly what I wanted it to be.
I've realized, even being in adult Disneyland, that I could go anywhere with these girls and we'd have the time of our lives. That's what's up. Things will continue to change. We'll have good luck and bad luck. But, things won't change between us.
We keep catching these rushes and looking at each other with goofy ass grins and saying "I'm so happy right now!" The energy between us is electric and it's keeping us going all day long with a night's sleep that's more like a long nap. We fight going to sleep and can't wait to get up.
I feel amazing. We've walked miles and miles and have had way too much to drink, but we're not aware of any of that. It's like magic. Life's too short .

"If I could find a way to see this straight
I'd run away
To some fortune that I should have found by now

And so I run now to the things they said could restore me
Restore life the way it should be
I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down

Life's too short to even care at all oh
I'm losing my mind losing my mind losing control"

chill out.

Today's lesson: patience.
Not only have I been so unbelievably anxious about this day getting here, since the moment I woke up from my peaceful slumber everything has been just a little behind schedule which stresses me out on a day I have planned out up into the every minute.
Chill out, right?
The point is I'm going on an awesome trip and things probably going to always go exactly as planned (for a trip that isn't really planned as far as a schedule goes).
It's vacation, ok. It's going to be amazing. That's all I'm planning on from here on out.
So, I know there hasn't been very much substance the past few days, and due to different substances don't count on it.
Just be patient, ok?
Chill out.

preppin.

It's Vegas Eve!
I've been up and at it all day getting things ready. So excited!
My bags are packed.
Luxury dinner reservations made.
Fresh coat of blonde applied. (nothing better)
All things sparkly are accounted for, including my nails.
I'm about to do a little bit of cleaning around my house.
And then I'm taking a sleeping pill to get a ridiculous sleep in before I hit the city.
I don't have a whole lot of expectations about what this weekend will be. Just excited to be doing it. We're due for a strip trip. When I think about college with these girls, we always had something planned. Always. One November I went to Dallas once a week to see all of my favorite bands play. One summer we drove to Chicago to see them all play there, too. How it was so much easier then when I was really broke as hell, I don't really know, but we made it happen. We've definitely stepped our game up this time though. Making up for lost time I suppose. After all, like my dad and Cyndi Lauper like to say, "girls just wanna have fun."
I mean, that's all I really want.

single servings.

(this will be the last glee/Kelly clarkson referenced post. I promise. At least until April)
I've written about my new found love for pop jams, glee and my Kelly Clarkson experience and last night, they all converged.
This isn't going to be a glee ep recap (although it was the most intense one ever!), I'm gonna bring it back to me, I mean that's what it's all about anyway (jokes).
So, I've been single for over a year now. I wrote about that break up here, so I'll skip the details. I don't treat it as a scarlet letter. Truth be told, it's been the first time since I was about 17 that I haven't been in love with someone whether I should've been or it was returned or not. I became really aware after college that I had some things to work on within myself and it's really difficult to do when you give so much of yourself to someone else sometimes, even though that is one of the better parts of life. For most of my first year, I was really alone in it. Pretty much everyone in my life has been in a serious relationship and I was on the outside. Roles reversed. I wasn't bitter about it at all, but sometimes it is hard to be the single girl with all couple friends. In the last few months, more friends have joined my club and it's not something I'm happy about, but has been nice to be able to talk to someone about how I'm feeling over here in this boat. You know, the doubts about what the future holds and all. Having conversations about it, made me more aware of my status and I actually felt alone for the first time believe it or not. Everyone encouraging me to get out there. Making me feel like something is actually wrong because I'm single. Join a dating site? No, thanks. And, I've already talked about bar crawling. It's just not my thing. There have been run ins that have inspired what if moments, but the truth is, nothing happened and I realize it wasn't meant to. Sometimes we can just get so caught up in the excitement of new possibilities we create the story before the characters have even developed. I mean, at least I do. I've been conflicted about hearing that people are no longer single. You know, the ones you kind of keep in your back pocket? Different what ifs start to play out. Hell, even my IBF is getting press about a new relationship (I'm choosing to believe it's a PR stunt, btw.) That's not to say, I'm upset about it or hurt, it's just kind of a reality check. But, here's the thing, after having many single girl convos about the trials and tribulations of this, for me, uncharted territory, I've kind of been able to realize what I do and don't want. And, what I do know is, we, I, are worth more than meaningless flirtations, 3 am text messages, seriously uncalled for insults due to others insecurities, and, most of all, games. If you want it, say it. That goes for me, too. But, also, being single is not a bad thing at all. It's better than being in a relationship because it feels safer than swimming these waters alone. I don't believe in fairy tales, but I know when relationships work. People in your life should better it, and, I mean across the board. As far as I'm concerned, if I'm going to let you in this fortress of mine (I've cleared out some of the obstacles, though), you better be worth it. No one likes to be vulnerable, but I am trying harder to be courageous. So, last night when they performed "Stronger" on glee, it was a reminder. And as simple as it seems, just because I'm alone doesn't mean I'm lonely. I'm really not. Sure, there are times, but I don't wake up feeling like I'm the last single girl on earth and I need to keep my radar on and pounce. I'm standing a little taller (mostly thanks to my improved posture due to my yogs). I already knew I was a fighter, but I sure am glad I'm getting stronger. Things will work out, when they're meant to. I'm not real big on wasting time anymore and I'm also not looking for a safety net. I need someone who inspires me to be better because of how passionate they are about the things they want for themselves. And, for right now, I'm doing a pretty damn good job of doing that myself.

silent applause.

Have you ever known someone for a long time and never really had a conversation with them about anything that matters? And then, one day you finally do and it feels almost like a secret was revealed to you? They could be someone in your outer circle of friends, a co-worker or a passing acquaintance (xanga reference) and one day the stars align and for whatever reason shit gets real.
For me, it's like a sense of relief when it happens. Like, ok, that's the purpose this person has served in my life. It's one of my favorite things really.
Sometimes it can be like a chance to set the record straight about who you are. Sometimes it's this magical communication that allows you to open up about something on your mind and feel like there's no judgment because they're so far outside of your closer reality. It can be really refreshing. A sigh of relief.
That happened for me today in a not so personal context, but still. I've felt like I've already proven myself to people so many times and the thought of having to do it again was just exhausting and has been a chip on my shoulder for the last few months.
Turns out, when you're doing things right and well, people notice even when you don't think they do or they might not go out of their way to let you know. Now, that's really refreshing.
You never know what people notice about you from a distance and when they notice amazing things that you're aware of but don't like to acknowledge it's huge.
I'm not one to throw a parade for myself. I'm not going to ask for your applause. But when you choose to do it without even a slight request my world kind of stops. It hits me to the core.
It's these unexpected interactions and confirmations that keep me motivated. Like the fact that in the last few weeks, I've had over 300 views on this silly little blog. I don't know who you are, but I appreciate you. Every day I see someone's reading it's like a stadium of cheers goes off inside. I'm not asking for your praises, but I appreciate you for watching from a distance and participating in this one sided conversation I've been having.
It's the first time I've really acknowledged what I think and feel openly in a long time.
What a relief.
How refreshing.
Where'd that chip on my shoulder go?

go your own way.

You know what kept me up last night? Rolling Stone fucking magazine, man. It's trash, y'all. What happened? I haven't looked at that magazine in years. Not really sure why, I think maybe its redesign turned me off or something. I was up googling again and stumbled upon an article that was the biggest piece of shit I've ever read. Which made me want to read more garbage and it just really pissed me off.
For one, that mag used to be the epitome of rock journalism and pop culture. I used to fantasize about one day being able to write for them on my trips to the book store where I poured over its pages and clipped its stories and pictures to put on my bedroom walls. But, now, I feel like they would be so lucky to have me. I'm not saying I'm the best writer ever, but I'd for damn sure be honored by the assignment no matter what and do it justice.
Where has all the good writing gone? I'm so sick of hearing it's dying. We're killing it by letting what's published be ok. I read books, a lot of times best sellers, and often, as much as I may have enjoyed them, I find myself saying, "oh, that's all it takes? Ok."
Meanwhile, really passionate and inspiring publications are folding and I'm sure amazing books aren't being published because they don't have a real housewives tragic spin to them and it's just so disheartening. What does a writer aspire to these days? Where do the dreams lead?
I guess it's just more of a reason to go at it alone. Find my own path. Set my own standards. Lord knows Jann Wenner's lost sight of it all. I'll always have Cameron Crowe though. Maybe that was the only standard I ever should have aspired to in the first place.

plans.

As excruciating as I made this week seem yesterday, a lesson has been learned.
When there's something to look forward to, the days leading up to it, although can sometimes seem long, make it so much easier because you know you're one day closer.
I've mentioned my prep for this trip, after the actual planning was done, I immediately put myself on a strict budget which has taken financial stress away because my account is bigger than it has been in years which in turn made my waist line a little smaller (amen). I haven't deprived myself of much, but having good reasons to make better decisions all around makes life better I've realized.
So, I haven't even gone to the air port yet and I'm already thinking about what's next. I need to have something new to look forward to and work toward. New car is on the list for sure. Trip to LA this summer seems so much easier now that I've made all of this happen. Saying yes and making shit a reality, k?
I'm happier which is amazing for me and probably better for everyone at work, too. I have just all around made an effort to take control of what I can and move on from the rest. Give some of it away, too.
I'm having better conversations with people. Loving writing more even though some of these have definitely just been "ok, I HAVE to find something to write," while others I felt really good about writing. It has very much been a journaling exercise as it pretty much is a chance for me to sum up the thoughts swimming in my head and process them. Not every day is going to be prolific and result in some awe inspiring lesson learned and that's ok. That would kind of be intense.
Not to mention, I'm kind of excited that the most pressing thoughts on my mind are what outfit I'm going to wear where and how can I strategically pack all of them to fit in a tiny suitcase for an overhead bin. I mean, clearly I'm going to have to wear my boots and accessorize the shit out of myself for the plane. I'll take that over the usual "holy shit, what am I doing?!" thoughts any day.
Those will be back. For sure. But, I guess I'm starting my vacation from reality a little early. Hell, I may even extend that vacay. I know I'll be excited and inspired and relish the delicious moments of sweet fun and freedom. Well, if I let myself.
So, here's to making plans and living a life that I'm worth having and letting everything else just be for a minute.
I mean, I think I've kind of earned it.
Definitely deserve it.

come on.

I am anxiously awaiting Friday as I have for Christmas when I was little.
Getting' on a plane with Bethany and flying high to Sin City to celebrate Lindley's birth.
I'm just ready to let go of everything. Turn off my mind and tune into just doing what feels right (like drinking jumbo daqs and walking around the strip). We don't have an itinerary. There are things we want to do and see and we will, but the best part is that we're doing it.
This was my first challenge of the "year of yes" and I leaped. Without a second thought. Lin said we should go to Vegas. I said ok, when? And it felt good.
Since then, I've started opening up more and more slowly in so many areas of my life. Saying yes to little things makes everything else so much bigger. It was a good resolution and the only way to really make the year of the badass possible.
Two months in, I'm still laying the foundation to what, I feel, is a year with so much potential to be the biggest one in a hot minute. I have to stop letting things get in my way and I know, the biggest obstacle is of course myself, but there's definitely been progress.
It's going to be so amazing to be in a city that no one knows us, but everyone will know how badass we are. I can't wait to laugh 'til my face hurts with my girls and make memories we'll have forever. I can't wait to not give a shit and just go with it.
I'm gonna have the biggest fun hangover of my life.
If I can just get through the next few days.

family matters.

Oh, family dinner.
I love my family. So much. I mean, I don't have a choice. The time I love my family the most is at family dinners especially at home. Mostly because there's the whole privacy thing with no chance of people overhearing the dialogue that results in all of us coming together. It can just be a little more relaxed and the completely offensive things that spew out of my father's mouth is just a little bit easier to swallow when there's no fear of offending other families in a 15 table radius.
We laugh. We piss each other off. Our heads explode due to a completely ridiculous thing my father says. (I can't repeat any of it because it is so completely offensive and while I do realize it is what he believes in some way, he definitely lays it on because he knows it gets us going.)
The thing is, we're all able to be ourselves with each other. While there are times when the tensions get high ("oh, here comes the LIBERAL perspective" said with the most annoying eye roll EVER), I've noticed we've gotten better about reeling it in before fighting words are served up.
The thing is, as much as we're all able to dish it out to each other, those are the four people in this world I know for a fact would do anything for me in an instant. How amazing is that? No matter what. We can all be assholes and say shitty things to each other, but all of that goes away when it really matters.
I've watched families unravel, my extended family included, and it makes me sick. How do we lose sight of those family dinners and what's most important? Do we take advantage of how unconditional love can be and push its limits way too far?
My family is by no means anywhere near perfect, but here's the thing, we're aware of it. We don't sweep our problems under the rug in the living room right before a family portrait is taken. We address what needs to be and stay out of each other's business otherwise. Even when it's difficult. Especially when it's difficult. By that I mean, my parents are invested in the bigger, more important decisions in my life, but when it comes to my personal life, hands off. If there's anything I've learned about my parents, and adults in general, is most of the time they don't really have all the answers just because they've been around longer. (but, I will admit, as painful as it is, most of the time my dad is usually right.)
We're all just living our own lives and the fact that we still take a time out to talk shit to each other over dinner is really one of my favorite things ever.

watch me.

A couple weeks ago, I saw this dude play and he was super cute and he sang super cute pop songs. As a part of his onstage banter he introduced a song and I couldn't for the life of me tell you what it was because I was too distracted by his aforementioned cuteness and the way he looked like he was doing it while he played his guitar and sang.
I'm getting sidetracked thinking about it.
Anyway, he said it was a song about a girl who really knew how to live. Who wasn't stuck inside her little box of her own world and what her life should be, but what it could be. Not giving up to just surrender and live her life in front of the stories being played out on her tv. Now you see why I remember this? (aside from the fact that my sister nudged me while he was saying all of this. Thanks for judging me.) I didn't really want to hear it or believe it at the time because I was just starting out on my new television love affair and truly don't believe that I'm not living my life. Am I living it big? No, not really most of the time. It's not like I don't make plans on purpose because I know one of my shows will be hitting my que, but I'm not choosing to be out there either.
Look, I don't have a whole lot of friends here and the ones I do have have their own things going on and, I'll be honest, after spending my days talking to hundreds of people and having mini counseling seshes with others, I'm ready to just hang out with myself for a minute.
And, I'll admit it, I did get a little obsessed with glee. Just a little, but you would too if you didn't think you were too cool for it. The shit's good, ok? And, alright, my IBF IS a real person in some land far, far away and I might've watched more YouTube videos of him than a gleeky fan girl, but it was fun to live an unrealistic life for a minute. It doesn't happen that often.
I could go out more and waste money on drinks I don't really want having conversations I'm not really paying attention to with people I don't really care about (if you're reading this, I swear I'm not talking about you). But taking care of myself and putting me first just seems the better option.
I've mentioned my expectations of others and I have expectations of myself, too. Some of them are based on what other people think I should be doing right now, others are imposed on me from external sources. So, I'm 26 and I'm supposed to be trolling the bars looking for love in all the wrong places apparently? Well, I kind of feel like that's as big a crock of bullshit as believing that Noah from The Notebook is real. I know, I want to believe that one, too. I want to believe that what I'm doing is what I'm supposed to be doing where I'm supposed to be doing it with who I'm doing it with, even if it is myself most of the time.
I'm not looking at someone else's life and wishing it for myself (anymore anyway) and I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop judging me for not wanting different things in my life right now.
I've got big plans for myself, don't stop believing that. I haven't. I'm not putting them off, I'm preparing for them. There have been a few times I've been glad things didn't work out the way I initially thought they would because I'm later able to see I wasn't ready for them to work out that way.
Some things do turn out in a fairy tale made for tv kind of way. Like that time I was preparing to go to LA and told everyone I was going to be BFFs with Karen O and ended up standing two feet away from her the first week my feet touched the ground in that city. I believe that to be one of the biggest signs of my life that I had ended up in the right place at the right time and I don't just mean the museum of natural history watching deerhoof play in front of a wooly mammoth. To think I almost backed out of going the night before I was supposed to leave due to my own fears and doubts that I let other people plant in my head.
The point is, when I leap, I leap big. I don't waste my risk taking energy on batting my eyes at some dude at the bar with visions of true love and wedding bells. I store it up and make big shit happen when I'm good and ready. And something always happens to say "girl, you did it. Now, just go with it."
So, I might be sitting too still in your opinion, but if that's the case you really don't know me at all. I will do all of the things I've always said I would and if you know me at all, you know that's true because I already have. On my time, on my terms.
And, who knows, I could cross paths with IBF. And while, when I'm really honest with myself, I know the "I" before the "BF" might not drop off, but dammit, I just REALLY want to be able to say "told you so" on that one.
I already hear you saying, "prove it."
And, to that I say, "watch me."

blank page.

So, it's finally here. The day I really don't have much to say. I won't string you along for very long, I promise.
Today was the first day in a long time I really just tuned myself out. I got to spend the first part of with Ms. Raybourn just doing what I would normally do on a day off but with someone which was nice. And as for the rest of it? I spent it on the computer reading celeb gossip and googling things. (how do you clear your google searches by the way because mine are pretty incriminating....) it was a rainy quiet day and I kept my mind that way for once which honestly was the biggest day off I needed.
I'm all caught up on glee which, of course, kind of makes me sad. But, it's been decided that if I were to guest star it would be a Yeah Yeah Yeahs episode and I would be the baddest bitch to hit McKinley High and officially put an end to this Finchel wedding business. So glad that's settled.
So, I'm gonna give myself a facial and fold the clothes that are staring at me, but tomorrow I'm sure I'll have something to say. I mean, I'm getting my hair cut surely that will inspire something.
Oh, wait. I already wrote about that. Shit!

<3.

So, I've mentioned my imaginary boyfriend here and I've talked about him everywhere else, too. IBF. He's probably the best one I'll ever have because he's exactly what I want him to be. I mean, he's adorable, of course, and he's kind of awkward in a super cute way and he just thinks I'm the bees knees. What more could I ask for?
That's a good question. I thought about my past valentines and, frankly, I'm really lucky, I've had some amazing ones. I've loved so big, been loved back and am still loved (and not just in my imagination). I will have so many more super romantic valentines, but this one was just right, too.
My best friend came to spend the night. I got off work, put on my fave fancy shoes and my new kitty shirt (pretty appropriate) and just felt good. We had some cocktails, girl, glee and IBF talk, took silly pics, ate trashy food and came home and posted up in our jams.
I love that, and, you too, IBF.

The VD.

So, let me preface this statement by letting you know, I'm really not one of those girls who is bitter on valentine's day because I'm single. And, for the record, I do have a valentine, two actually, one is kind of imaginary and doesn't know he's my valentine and future boyfriend, the other is my best bitch who's coming to spend the night with me on v-day. (that's love, isn't it?) That being said, I'm kind of an insider on man shopping for this day as my work is kind of just as generic as a box of chocs and some roses and, I'm sorry ladies, based on my observations 90% of dudes do not give a shit what ends up in that red bag on February 14th.
It is so frustrating for me because I genuinely do enjoy helping people find gifts that whomever is getting them will really love and it really pisses me off when a man comes in and just says, "I really don't care, what can I get for $50? And make it fast, I'm on my lunch break."
Now, most people in my situation would love this because it's super easy to sell the shit out of things as long as the only effort that's asked is the handing over of cash, but it is just so disheartening. Don't you guys know that you're kind of like our Easter bunny, Santa and all other mythical gift giving creatures now? We truly want to believe that you racked your brain searching for the perfect gift for us and you went all out on it and omg it means so much! Well, sorry ladies, for most of us it just isn't true all of the time. I'm not saying they don't exist and I'll even admit the ones who do probably don't shop at my store unless they're looking for massage oil (barf), but the point is, ladies in love just believe in so many magical things, don't ruin it for yourself and all of mankind.
So, guys, if it's ok with the ladies I'm gonna speak for (most of) us. We don't give a shit how much it costs or where it's from just as long as you thought about it (and when we admit it to ourselves, we know the truth). We really do know the difference. And, as for you ladies, don't let your dudes get away with it unless the bubble bath I picked out for you because it was the closest one to me really is your favorite and you're cool with that. But, what do I know? Maybe I'm not like most girls? (another common misconception.)
Find me a lady who wouldn't love to wake up to a sweet little note and coffee ready? Or, or flowers that aren't obnoxious red roses? I'm gonna stop revealing my secret wishes in case my imaginary valentine/ future boyfriend stumbles upon this because, dammit, it's his job to figure it out. That's not to say we don't secretly hope a bouquet of flowers will be delivered by surprise to us at work so all of the other ladies can be jealous or want that box of chocs around for our next Ryan Gosling marathon, just not every time, dude. Change it up.
As for me, I'm gonna pass out my glee valentines and then get shit faced with my girl squirrel and have sweet dreams of my imaginary love and that's alright with me. At least this year. Gotta change it up.

lighter.

Sundays off are a magical thing. I don't know what makes them different from having a Tuesday off or whatever, because I didn't have the whole weekend off, just Sunday. But, I woke up this morning so refreshed. I allowed myself to stay in my cozy cocoon with the sun pouring in doing absolutely nothing for about an hour. When I finally got up (I had to pee really bad is why), I immediately turned on some music and just started dancing and cleaning my house. As I was in my full on dance party of one in my living room, I realized that I needed to tie the drawstring on my pants to keep them up, something I never do. It got me wondering. I pulled out my scale and basically had to wipe the dust off of it, and since my doctor's appointment last month for my never-ending-sickness, I've dropped 10 pounds. Now, I've never been a small gal and never really see that for myself, there are plenty of times that I'm comfortable in my skin, but, I'll be honest, most of the time I'm not. I haven't been trying to lose weight. I haven't been counting cals or points or carbs or working out rigorously, I've done all of those things at different times, occasionally they've worked, most of the time they haven't. So, why all of the sudden without focusing on it does it happen? My answer, because I've started giving a shit about myself. Wanting more for myself. Opening up myself. And, I realized how much I've manifested how I feel about myself on the inside on the outside, like a barrier. No one will get close to me if I'm like this, so let me keep everyone away is how I think I've allowed myself to subconsciously feel. But, I've allowed people in at a size bigger than I am today because like I said, there are times when I really own everything about myself. The last time I had a drastic weight loss experience I was ending my high school career and buzzing on the feelings of first love. It was one of the most powerful feeling times of my life and I took control of something that I had felt out of my control for so long and it was so easy. I wasn't trying to get anyone's attention. My boyfriend at the time was clearly happy with who I was, so it wasn't for him either. It was all for me. I wanted to feel as good about myself as I did on the inside on the outside. So, I'm not saying that I'm just going to continue to magically lose weight. I mean, there's been some effort on my part, but the motivation was maintaining a strict budget so I could be financially fit for my trip to Las Vegas and any other thing that may come my way. I did start doing yoga but it was because I wanted to feel better. I cut out toxic things in my life for good reasons and with the burdens out of the way, things in every aspect of my life were starting to feel lighter. And as I carelessly danced my ass off this morning in my living room, I felt so much better. Things are really changing and I mean it because I'm the one who's changing. Inside and, apparently, out. I've been completely aware of how I've closed myself off in every aspect of my life. But, as I was reminding this morning, when I start to open up even a little bit and not allow myself to get in the way of good things that are trying to come in it can be pretty magical, especially on a Sunday, but even on a Tuesday if I let it. So, basically, I'm coming back, ya'll. Get ready.

28 days.

You know, it really is amazing when people who care about you really believe in you. So much so that they entertain your thoughts and ideas and at least pretend to believe that it really is possible just to keep that fire burning a little brighter a little longer.
That's the really good kind of enabling.
I had a moment of crazy yesterday (I mean, at least one) and when I called a friend freaking out saying, "ok, it's official, I think I'm losing it" she said so
bluntly, "no, really you're not" that I thought for a second "maybe she's a little crazy too then if she doesn't think I'M crazy."
I have gone a little crazy. But, what's the harm in thinking the universe is telling you something every now and then? The thing is, it really is pretty small and as much as time seems to go faster, the world seems smaller. And with that, if you allow it, things can seem more possible.
Anyway, I made a promise to myself that i would write here every day and if you haven't noticed, I have. Granted we're 11 days in and it IS the shortest month of the year (that wasn't intentional, promise). But, it's working for me. I'm getting really inspired in a lot of different ways and even woke up the other day with one of the best ideas I've had in years and, wait for it, did something about it. So this could be longer than just a 28 day stay at writing rehab. And, I'm almost done with Glee so I promise you, I'll keep future mentions to a minimum. Also, I'm going to Vegas with my two best gals. Gonna let them long locks down and have some fun in as much of a carefree manner as I can muster.

+/-.

So, here's a fun fact you probably already know, I get really obsessed with things.
I have been known to listen to the same song on repeat for hours, I mean, HOURS. How the friends I've lived with dealt with that, I'm really not sure. Cause they're friends, right?
I can watch a movie I love over and over again and notice something new and fall in love with it even more. And, tv shows? I mean, work and responsibilities are just getting in the way of the next episode really.
I will google, YouTube, twitter and Facebook stalk the shit out of everyone involved. And, have often caught myself taking on traits of the show. Mad men: red lipstick, manhattans and chain smoking.
True blood: I had an unusually drawn out southern accent for a minute.
Parks and Rec: I would look at you in awkward situations like Tom Haverford.
Weeds: totally channeling Nancy Botwin through an obsession with iced coffee that never really ended among, ahem, other things.
Glee: I've been dancing and singing even more obnoxiously at work.
Strangers with Candy: I would say completely ridiculous/crude things without a second thought. (Jerri Blank gave birth to the Bacon Strips though. Still sizzlin' btw.)
Six Feet Under: biggest obsession of all time. Completely emotionally involved with this show. I literally experienced grief. Probably one of the most inspirational experiences of my life though, seriously.
Music, movies, shows, hell, even my favorite writers make their way into who I am. You know when I'm reading David Sedaris or Augusten Burroughs if you read anything I write at the time.
The other day at work, I admitted to my love of glee like a confessional in the backroom to my co-worker and she said, " you're always obsessed with something." I brushed it off in the moment, mostly because I wanted to talk about Glee, but it's just kept replaying in my mind because it's really true.
Obsessed doesn't usually have the best connotation. You know, it's usually attached to something unhealthy. And, to a certain extent that is true. I get so wrapped up in intangible things and kind of make myself detach a little bit from my reality.
However, someone else told me she loves how passionate I am about the things I love. Now, that's got a much better spin to it? And, I think she's right, too. I am passionate about the things I care about- the people in my life just as much as what might be on the tv. I'm motivated and inspired by so many different things, and I'm not going to let my current obsession not become at least a part of what's becoming of me or something in my life.
But, here's the thing, the very definition of obsess is preoccupy. Ding! Ding! I'm working through my crazy here, k. I have always used something that I love as a way to distract myself from things going on in my life. Now, I can allow myself the fact that I do deal with shit. I process most things eventually and often times I want to immediately, but I think I'm preoccupying myself right now because I'm always peering so far down the road to what I know is just going to be so much better than where I am right now. You know? I'm distracting myself in the present because what's in the present isn't what I really, really want. What's in the future? Not sure. Some things I want to be there. A few that I try to bring to life now, but, man, I just know they'll be here later.
Conflicted.
The thing is, to every positive, there is a negative. That's true. It's science, k? It's balance, right? Yeah.
So, I will keep being passionate about whatever is in my life even of it may seem borderline obsessive. The things that matter most are the best with passion.
Afterall, that is so Scorpio of me to do...

i dig pop music.

Ok, so I'm about to be pretty vulnerable. Recently, I admitted to my re-exploration with myself through different musical genres. I've even admitted to watching glee. (although I haven't publicly begun to scratch the service on my obsession.) I admitted to going to see Kelly Clarkson, too.
I've been really conflicted about my pop music feelings. However, after having a day off parked on the chaise lounge plowing trough episodes of glee with a smile on my face (and tears in my eyes. Twice.), I've realized that sugary sweet pop tunes and 30 year olds playing high school kids just brings joy to your life.
Lyrics are the thing that hooks me into a song. And while I have so many favorite songs from some amazing artists, sometimes simplicity says so much more. Music, like books and movies, make life so much better, sometimes even easier, because it's a wake up call screaming, "Holy shit. Yes! I feel that way, too!"
I just want to feel hopeful and powerful about life and if that makes me a 30-year old high school kid, please give Finn Hudson my number because his rosy cheeks and tragic dance moves make me weak in the knees as he belts out "don't stop believing." As much as I felt like I hated high school, it was kind of a magical time. Things about life start revealing themselves to you and it just feels so mysterious and exciting. You have so much hope about what you're going to become and everyone's telling you you can be and do anything you want to. And, most of the time you really fucking believe it.
College is your chance to work towards it and shit starts getting real and your twenties are these downward spirals of doubt and negativity. You learn that some of those things you've gotten a peek at and thought they were so fantastic often times end up breaking your heart in one way or another. And you clam up. Shut yourself off. Try not to feel anything because then you can't get hurt.
Pop songs are popular for a reason and, yes, they are sugary and surface level, but they're also universal whether we want to admit it or not and pretend that we're so much deeper than that. I mean, we can be, but our hearts are so on the surface of everything we do that's what makes us want to bury them so deep inside.
So yeah, I've put my guilty pleasure out there, but it's about damn time I allow myself to be on the surface and, for God's sake, to let simple things make me happy and hopeful.
Life is hard and hurts, but it only gets worse if you stop believing it can be so much better than this and forget that the biggest and best most magical things have yet to find their way to you.



(p.s. I did purchase glee valentines from target last night and if you want one, give me your address. You won't get any Finn stickers though, I'm keeping 'em for myself to put on my trapper keeper.)

blonde on blonde.

In one of my first college freshman classes, we were asked to make a list of things that we were good at, me, being who I am, would only allow myself to list one: dying my hair. I mean, I am. This was coming off the heels of a year long exploration and foray into hair coloring that included streaks of pink and blue along with a half black/half blonde thing I had going on for a while (kinda Ricki Lake Tracy Turnblad from Hairspray, now that I think about it). I finally settled on the shade of blonde I've been using for about 10 years now. Well, except for that crisis phase where I dyed it brown. Oh, you didn't remember it? Good.
Up until about a year ago, I've worn my hair short. I distinctly remember being on the playground in elementary school and seeing the shadow of my pony tail swinging behind me and all the sudden became really aware of how strange and silly it looked and went home that day to ask my mom to take me to cut it off. (I even think I showed her a picture of Donna Martin from 90210 as a reference). The last couple of years, I've been growing it out as a sort of slow transformation. It started as an experiment, but has taken so fucking long it is most definitely a commitment. However, there are moments like when I'm washing it or the windows are down in my car when I realize just how long it's gotten and when I really get into it, I think about who I was when I decided to start letting it grow. It's become this way to measure change in my life. The color is still the same, but so many things have changed.
There have been several conversations about my hair in the last few months. Yes! Conversations. If I haven't seen you in a while, you're gonna tell me how long it is. If I say my hair looks like shit, you're gonna tell me that I have the best hair ever. It's true, at least that's what you say. It really is such a huge part of my identity and I didn't realize how much of a reflection and expression of who I am currently I really put into my hair. From the streaks to the hair boners (my ponies when it was short) to the brown phase to the commitment to L'Oreal Mega Blondes Lightest Ivory (I just gave you my secret) to ridiculous short bed head I rocked for so long to the long locks I'm now so proud of. All little representations of who I was on the inside and sometimes just who I wanted to be.

I tried to tie it all together with things that play in my head when I think about my hair like that tragic scene in All the Real Girls when my love, Paul Schneider tells that bitch Zooey, "Why don't you put your fucking hair back on and come back, just come on back."
But, this one is the most appropriate anyways.

oh, she's open.

Super connected, y'all.
It's so crazy how when you really tune into things, they somehow find their way to you and kind of attach themselves. I'm not just talking about my "Six Degrees of Netflix" theory I'm working on, but really how crazy is it that right after youtubing Madonna's halftime show (THAT bitch, btw), my next ep of glee was the Madonna one? So crazy, right?
I don't know what I'm saying, but there have just been so many tiny coincidences and connections lately that it's kind of blowing my mind.
Thinking about someone for a brief moment one day and running into them the next. Having a conversation that totally affirms thoughts that have been running through your head. Just having things you want to work out finally start to line up. It's pretty amazing when you start to recognize these little coincidences and allow yourself to be amazed that it just happens that way.
It makes you realize, if you allow it to, that things will work out. You know, the big things that seem so out of our control, out of reach really will work themselves out as long as you keep moving forward. Keep focus on them, stop stressing about them? That's totally not easy and I'm not saying to stop trying or pushing because that's kind of the key I think.
Small things create large ones is what I'm learning. Every day, every small decision impacts your entire day overall, right? I mean, your life is entirely made up of single days and every day well spent in any way is a life well-lived. I think that's my point?
Basically, I'm lifting burdens and with each one I'm taking off my chest I feel stronger.
Think about it, it is so easy to continue to get wrapped up in the have nots you stop being grateful for your haves. I'm refreshed by coincidences, amazed by some of them and keeping an open mind for more.

tickets.

(i'm just gonna be honest real quick, after writing that last night, i ended up staying up until way too late and waking up 15 minutes before i needed to leave. ugh. working on it, k?)

Accountability is a word that leaves my lips too many times to count. When I think about several events roll through my mind of holding people accountable both personally and professionally and I'm always overwhelmed with the feeling of how much I fucking hate it. Is it really that hard to do the right thing or to understand what the right thing is in the first place? Do we really need to have these conversations? Do they do anything to the person they are with? It's this really frustrating cycle and, as it turns out, is about 90% of my job.
See, in my opinion, there are just certain things a person should know and should always at least try to do. Price of admission, if you will. Hold me accountable, please! Chances are I've already kicked my own ass for the error or if you bring it up first, I will own it, and then kick my own ass.
I don't know if it's how I was raised, I'm not getting into daddy issues. (I don't really feel I have "daddy issues" by the way, I've totally accepted that man and our relationship.) But, I will say, that if my parents hadn't held me accountable I probably wouldn't be where I am.
I guess the first part of accountability is expectations. I do hold people in my life to a high expectation, I will never deny that and have struggled with it in recent years, bouncing back and forth from are my expectations too high to don't I deserve at least that and, sometimes, am I even worth that?
However, I will say my price of admission could be say like the price of a ticket to coachella, a pricey and limited admission, but extremely worth the price that I really hope you don't leave shaking your head saying "holy shit, I can't believe I paid that much for THAT." Versus, a show at a shitty bar with a shitty sound system with shitty drinks and a shitty band where you definitely walk out saying "holy shit, I can't believe I paid that much for THAT" and it was only five bucks. I'm tooting my own horn a little bit, aren't I? The point is, I don't let that many people in and I may have high expectations of you once you are in, but I try my hardest to make it worth it to you by having your back on anything even slightly worth having your back on. I want to be on the front row cheering for you and, honestly, just showing up for me is often times enough.
And, still I find myself holdin my breath for a quick sec and thinking to myself, "alright, we really are about to go here," and having to start a conversation that I should've never had to waste my breath on (again and again) to begin with.
So, please, call me out on it, I wanna be better, I want to own my bullshit and move on and grow from it. And, please, stop putting me in situations where I have to call you on yours because I think one of two things will happen, I will explode or coachella will be cancelled this year and every other year after that and you can blame yourself for never being able to even dream about seeing that killer line up, k?

pillow talk.

How come the moment I climb into bed is one of the best moments of the day, but I put it off until the last minute? I mean, everyone does, clearly, but it's like I put it off. Oh, I'll just watch one more episode or let me do this, and then the second my body is between the sheets and the pillows are just right--it's like the biggest, coziest sense of relief. And the worst part of my day? Having to climb out of that cocoon in the morning. It is so hard! My head feels like a million pounds, I've for my little meow meow snoozing on my feet and my alarm is screaming at me for about an hour.
So, bed, I just want you to know how much I appreciate you and all of your ridiculous luxury. This is just another symptom of my chronic procrastination for everything in my life. Never seeming to be able to catch up because I start each day just a little bit behind and with a little something extra from the day before. This "do what you can and tune out the rest" mentality that has infected my life has to stop. I have to stop ending the day with a running list of everything I didn't do and all of the things that aren't happening.
I'm ready to stop putting off bedtime just because I'm not satisfied with what my day became and I'm waiting til the last second to turn it around somehow. I want to go to bed with a clear head and a quick run through of everything I did do and not what I didn't. I want the reason I stay up until it's too late to be a good one.
So, it's bubble bath time (remember?) and then I'm hitting the pillows in anticipation of a better tomorrow.

how am i not myself?

Who am I? Last week I was obsessed with Pearl Jam and all things 90s. (almost bought a pair of doc Martin combat boots. No, really.) this week? Can't stop watching glee and I went to see Kelly Clarkson tonight. (no, really.)
Why? Well, I don't really know? But, here's what I do know, it's what's making me happy, so why ask why?Want to wear red lip stick even though i think I could be confused with a tranny? Sure, I'm gonna. I'm gonna listen to the pretenders and belt out "Brass in Pocket," too.
Listen, I don't have any credibility left or a reputation to care about. I'm just allowing things to come into my life and appreciate them if they make me happy.
What am I going to be into next week? Not sure, but it'll make me feel better.
And, yep, I danced and sang to Kelly clarkson tonight. Bitch got pipes.

fever.

I've made a conscious effort to drink more water. But, I think there's something it because, holy shit, everyone is catching the preg. I mean, I really don't have to worry about that, but it's like motherhood is screaming in my face everywhere i look and don't get me started on my Facebook newsfeed.
However, it is really awesome to watch my sister go through this process. It's exciting and scary for her. So many questions that won't really have answers until her little baby is in her arms. I can't wait to be there for that.
There's just something about a mother. No matter how old we get, we still want them and need them during our weakest moments. Whether it's wiping your hair out of your face while you cry or cleaning vomit out of your lap (sorry, sister, but it's true). What an incredible responsibility to love someone that much.
I had dinner with my mom tonight after meeting up with her at a store where she was so excited to buy cute little outfits for her very first grandson. And I can't imagine what it will be like for her to be there for my sister as she watches someone she brought into the world bring another in.
I, by no means, have baby fever. I'm still questioning if my maternal instincts exist somewhere buried deep inside, but I do find a sense of urgency for things to begin unfolding in my life for my parents to be on my side for.
Everything in due time I suppose. Everything in its right place?

baptized in change.

It is kind of fitting that I've worked in retail selling bubbles and smell goods for almost 7 years now (can you believe that shit?). Other than the fact that I can admit to being a beauty product junkie and hoarder of all things that smell lovely, the (pretty much) daily ritual of bathing is, most of the time, pretty cathartic for me. It's the chance to literally wash it all away and that's what I think about. I select the product that I want to leave on my skin that kind of sets the tone for how I need to feel. I rinse off the past and prepare for what's next. Even if it's just work or staying home all day or getting ready for bed, it's this little meditation for me.
When I went through my pro-longed and recently revisited bright eyes phase a lyric always stuck in my head during this moment,
"It was in a foreign hotel's bathtub
I baptized myself in change
And one by one I drowned all of the people I had been
I emerged to find the parallels were fewer
I was cleansed
I looked in the mirror and someone new was there"
Every day, every bubble bath, every quick shower can be a chance to start over. And tomorrow I may be in the same place still, but I can try and I can feel better about it. It's about actually taking time to just stop. To feel something different. To watch it wash away down the drain.

(p.s. I wrote this before I took a shower just now. Sigur ros came on as I was rinsing. Kind of a religious experience, y'all. I'm serious about all of this. Tub time means business.)

i've fallen and..

so, i've developed this fear that's honestly getting increasingly worse. it's of dying alone in my house and not being discovered until kitty has eaten half of my face off for her own survival. no, for real.
a couple weeks ago due to sickness, i almost passed out in the shower. i was frantic. flashes of my nightmare. i got out as fast and carefully as i could. now, i'm thinking of installing geriatric hand rails in my bathroom to ensure safe exit. i'll be getting grippers for my tub on my next target trip.
others are just random, i'll have some sort of accident and immediately my brain will begin creating worst case scenarios about how if i would've just tripped two inches to the left closer and hit my head there or fallen into the oven or... i would die. it's gotten a little insane.
however, i have thought of several reasons why it's a good thing i live alone.
1. attempting to do yoga. it is the most pitiful sight one could probably see.
2. due to my yoga attempts, i apparently do have a "core" and it hurts, pretty bad. moments ago while watching "new girl" i was caught off guard by something really funny and i busted out laughing and it hurt. so bad. that i then proceeded to make a really painful noise laugh thing in the most contorted position/face i have ever imagined myself to make.
3. i sing while i clean my house. i had a mild obsession with pearl jam last week and began singing everything like eddie vedder. i didn't realize this until i stopped looked up and saw kitty making the most judgmental face a creature with no lips could make.
4. i can wear the same jammies every single day cause they're my favorite and no one will ever know. also, no one has to know that the first thing i do when i walk in the door is put them on.
5. um, actually, i can do whatever i want and no one can judge me. except for kitty, apparently. but, i mean, although i rarely admit this, she is, after all, just a cat.

so, i may go ahead and order a life alert just in case, you know, a worst case scenario nightmare does come true. i mean, this face is too cute to not be an open casket. but, in reality, i should really relish this time to do what i want when i want how i want, because, hopefully, that won't be the case for the rest of my life.

lessons.

the nudges i was talking about, they keep coming. only some of them are more like a kick in the gut. i'm getting it...ok?
see, there is a man who most people thought was insane. i, of course, was immediately drawn in. in the beginning, it was probably some sort of teacher's pet situation, he being my department head and i starting out on the real venture of my future, i knew i needed to get in with him. he kept his office door open, you'd walk in, he'd lay his pen and glasses down on his desk and offer you a seat, sometimes he'd even join you. and he'd just let you talk.
in my first meeting with him, i was there to talk about my first week's stories for the newspaper. they bled with his comments. i was scared, but i wanted to face it. "you're just gonna have to get this through youR pretty blonde head," he said, "but, there's something there."
ok.
our weekly meetings continued and the feedback got better, until i hit a bump in my personal life and he read it in my work. he asked what was going on and i just spilled it. all of it. i, of course, apologized for the spew of personal drama that shot out of my mouth and he just sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.
he began to tell me of a writer he knew and the struggles she went through personally and how it began to impact her work. he told me, "no one, nothing can take this talent away from you. if you let the bullshit get in the way, it'll be the biggest mistake you ever make."
i realized today when i received an e-mail update from his wife letting everyone know his health status from his hospital room where he is undergoing cancer treatment, that i just may have made that mistake. i have let bullshit get in the way. no one, nothing has taken it away, but myself. all the self-doubt, excuses, the bullshit have gotten in the way.
the last time i saw him was a couple of years ago now, he was receiving an award at a football game and after he slowly climbed the stairs off the field to the bleachers, i saw him sit a few rows down by himself and just had this overwhelming urge to go talk to him. he asked what i had been doing post-college and i told him, a little ashamed, and once again, my personal shame and drama was met with his seemingly all-knowing remark, "i knew it was going to take you a while to get started, but i know you're going to do it." i choked back tears, hugged his neck and let him soak in one of his favorite things, tech athletics, and made my way back to my seat as if nothing happened, but with renewed hope for myself.
there aren't many people in your life who don't give up on you. there just aren't. and, a hard lesson to swallow is that they aren't always going to be there.
the last several years i have taken pride on how independent i have become. i live alone so i have to take care of myself, in a house that i bought with my name on it that i have to pay for, i have a job with a lot of responsibility and accountability and have a hard time asking for help when i need it. yet, in my personal life, i am so emotionally dependent on someone else saying "yes, you're right, this is good, move forward." can't once be enough? at some point, you just have to go with it.
i've wasted so much time. exhausted myself with coming up with so many excuses.
so, i guess i've got a deadline now.