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.