Monday, October 21, 2013

anthems for a 27-year-old girl.

This has been a year of anniversaries. 
I am nostalgic for everything. I look for signs in everything. I overthink everything. 
But, those are all kind of good things right now. 
Boss's Day was a few days ago and when I got to work, I remembered that day a year earlier. I was offered a new job and tossed and turned for days over the decision I made. It was the toughest and most rewarding transition I have ever made. To think back to what I walked into and what I have built in a year is truly astounding. I learned more about myself in more ways and faster than I can ever remember and was able to put to rest a lot of doubts I had about myself. Is this the career I thought I would have? Absolutely never. Do I love my job? Sure do. I don't think most people really understand what I do or the work that goes in to it, and I only bother to explain it to the people who care to hear about it and that's just fine. What a difference a year makes. 
On Friday, I will be seeing David Sedaris. Literally a year later as well. On a more personal level, that trip that I really didn't have time for reminded me who I really am. From the company I kept. To the conversation over drinks. To just the "to hell with it all" attitude I had to have to get in the car and leave all of the pretty big responsibilities I had behind to do something for myself. I had a meeting to be at the next morning with my big, big boss and I drove two hours, hung over and showed up and had an amazing meeting. Another lesson I needed to re-learn. I can do both. And, I'm better for it.  

The year over all has been littered with 10 year anniversaries, most of the milestones have been connected to music (also mostly Ben Gibbard music) and the memories attached to those songs are so visceral and important to me, it has been amazing to connect to a 17 year old Jess as a 27 year old one. 
That girl, 10 years ago, was fearless. And, I had no idea at the time. She fell in love for the first time and let go for the first time without a single fear of falling. With multi-colored hair, a passion for writing and an obsession with music, everything was possible to her. She started believing in herself and her dreams. 
 She made a lot of new friends who in the last year have gotten married to the same people they would soon fall in love with, others had their first babies and a few really started making their dreams come true. 
That Jess let go of a lot of her insecurities. Wore dresses or skirts every day. Got in a car accident and was surprised to see who the first people were who showed up at the hospital. They would be some of the most important people in her life. Three of them are no longer here, one of which will soon have an anniversary of the day I said goodbye to her, others served an amazing purpose and faded out on their own path eventually. 
The 17-year-old Jess made a lot of big decisions and lived with no regrets (way before Tim Riggins reminded her to live that way) and, whether she would admit it or not, she was also really proud of herself. 

The 27-year-old Jess revisited those Ben Gibbard songs in her car and in person (you're welcome 17-year-old Jess). Lost 40 pounds, just like the old one. Allowed herself to have crushes. Got over a lot of her fears and insecurities. Took care of herself and made decisions for herself. Stopped feeling bad that things that are happening for everyone else haven't happened for her yet, because when they do they'll be worth the wait. She made some new friends and better ones with old ones. Let Tim Riggins remind her to have no regrets, Coach Taylor teach her how to be a leader and Tami how to never give up on people. She checked off a lot of things that never seemed to get checked off. Made plans for the future she doesn't want to flake out on. Tore herself a part and put herself back together. Took comfort in signs that made her feel like she was doing exactly what she needed to be doing. 
The 27-year-old Jess started believing in herself again, and whether she'll admit it or not, is actually really proud of herself. 

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

humble pie.

I don't know what it is about my roots soaking up a fresh coat of blonde, but I always seem to take moment to reflect and prepare for a fresh start. (Re: my college column here: http://www.latech.edu/techtalk/archives/11_9_06/current/blonde.php)
It could also be the fall beers and candles and attempting to wear cardigans at the first sign of relief in the air, but damn, I feel really good about life right now. 
See, I've been in a pretty large funk the past few months. Typical battles with some of the same ol' demons. I fight them just enough to call it, but not kill them. But, I'm getting there. 
The thing is, I've got some pretty incredible people in my life who see things in me I won't allow myself to see. Who present such a wonderful reflection. Who comfort me, reassure me and keep me honest. 
I love my job. It's not the job I thought I would be doing, but it turns out I'm pretty good at it and have been able to surround myself with amazing people there as well. It's not every day you have a job that you are literally just expected to make someone else's day a little better and find yourself laughing hysterically on the sidelines. To really lead a team who believes in you and wants it just as bad as you do is humbling. 
I am so lucky to be with my family and have had the experiences I've had with them after moving back to the very place I always said I never would. There hasn't been a day that has been filled with regret on that decision since. 
The thing is, there will always be something missing. I think it's just a part of who I am. I want it all and I want the best, and even though I'm not a patient person, I'll wait for it. I never thought my life would look the way it does now, so there's really no point in guessing on what's to come, but I do know it will be wonderful and full and exactly what I always wanted and never knew existed. 
Happy. Hopeful. Humble. 

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

listen.

I don't know if it's just like a thing where if you believe in something enough it becomes true. Like a horoscope or a lie. But, the past couple of years I've been noticing little patterns pop up that I begin to investigate and they've become little treasures I tuck away as a reminder that I'm on the right path or that everything happens for a reason or it's time to let go or move on. Little nudges. Little signs. That I just tuck away in my pocket and breathe. 
The number 7.
The perfect song coming on at the perfect time. 
A collection of quarters when I hardly ever use cash. 
Ernest Hemingway. 
Dreams. 
Themes.
Conversations. 
I believe in all of them. I don't know for sure what they always mean, some of them are easier to decipher than others, but, I think the point is, I'm listening, I'm watching, I'm noticing, and I thank you.
I went on a trip last weekend that was definitely a four day party, but speckled in between the shots and the dance parties there were moments like sitting on the patio alone and the wind carrying over a man and his guitar singing my favorite Bruce Springsteen song "I'm on Fire" just days after getting a sweatshirt with that album cover on it and listening to the song on repeat on my record player. Like telling a friend about Ernest Hemingway popping up all over my life as she handed a book about him for me to borrow for the beach and going to dinner only to find a huge quote of his hanging on the wall. Or that late night (early morning?) conversation on the balcony with an old, old friend and realizing she still sees you for exactly who you are even after all these years and effortlessly saying the things you've been needing to hear. "You're going to be ok and it's going to be amazing" and "I'm so proud of you for living your life for yourself."
It's just this overwhelming sense of relief when these moments happen. It's a confirmation. A reassurance. A wake up call. 
Never answers. So many questions. But, the point is, I'm listening and I'm open. 
Oh, she's open.

Sunday, June 23, 2013

tenses.

June has been this big conflictual ball of the past and the present. 
Constant connections to the past in the present and admiration of the time that has gone on between and memory lanes and ghosts and all of that. 
Only, I didn't get too swept up in the current of it all. I embraced it and watched it unfold. Some of it I knew was coming. When I put it on the calendar months ago a little fear struck my heart of the emotional flood that was just bound to happen and others just kind of unexpectedly made there way here. None of them impacted me nearly to the extent I thought they would or could. 
All of it made me so grateful for the past. I'll cherish it so much for so much longer, but I don't cling to its security anymore. 
One of the more momentous occasions was when I went to see the Postal Service. It definitely ranks high on the top 5 emotional attachment albums. So many sweet experiences were soundtracked with those songs. I rarely let myself delve into that experience and didn't quite know where it would take me in a live setting. The day before I spent the evening looking for remnants of my 17-year-old self in boxes and journals and pictures, some pieces showed up in the flesh. I remembered things so fondly and the dread of the next evening grew a little bigger. 
When we found our seats, the lights went down minutes later and seconds after that the first notes hit me. I closed my eyes and let go. By the end of that song, I was overwhelmed with comfort with not only such a warm fuzzy feeling of such a sweet moment so long ago, but that I'm so much better now. 
Happenstance and chance encounters occurred in the most unlikely of contexts and I took them all in stride. I didn't lock up too much in a "what does it all mean?" whirlwind I just let it all mean something good. 
But, the best part is that I'm finally at a place, after all of these years, where I can say the present is just so much better than the past. With all its uncertainty and shaky knees and, even, feeling a little bit left in the dust from time to time, it's so incredible to look back and be grateful that all of those wonderful things happened with some pretty amazing people to end up here, right now, in this moment. And, also, maybe I should worry a little less about the future. 
Because I'm so much better now than I was then. 

Sunday, June 16, 2013

the best.

I'm not a parent. I don't know when that title will be added to my life and, yeah, sometimes "when" is replaced with "if."
But, it's Father's Day and I know for a fact I'll never be one of those. As everyone (including me) has taken to the social networks to parade for theirs and try to prove why theirs is the best with a cute picture from childhood, I've kind of decided that I just might be proof of that on, not only my father's behalf, but my parents'. 
I think most of us had (and still do) moments (and some rightfully so) where we swore we would never be like them. We, for sure, would do a better job despite of them, maybe in spite of them, too. How dare they punish us for our poor decisions or tell us things we might not have wanted to hear and, more so, make mistakes? We'll show them all when we're so much better and perfect. 
I think one of the hardest lessons I've had to swallow as I was coming of age is that my parents, the ones who raised me by laying most of the foundations that ended up shaping who I am, didn't and don't really know what they're doing any more than I do. Just as they were starting to see me develop into an adult, I was starting to see the scales tip a little bit as I realized they don't have all the answers because, hey, none of us do. It's a scary thing to realize your entire life there will always be new territories to navigate and some of them you'll continue to be blindfolded. 
I don't know what kind of parent I'll be. But, I know there will undoubtedly be moments for my possible future children that they swear they'll never be like me and I'll let them think it, but I do know they'll see my reflection in the mirror sooner or later just as I do with my parents. The further I go on my path, there's no denying I am very much my parents' child, the good and the bad. 
I can't say there haven't been times they've let me down, but I know there have been some where I've disappointed them, too. I can say there have been more times I've been proud of them, and I hope that's the same tally they have for me, too. 
What I know is that I am so fucking lucky to have parents that I can love unconditionally and be loved the same way, if not more. I want to be the proof they need to know they did the best they could. The best they knew how to. That they know my successes belong to them, too, and how thankful I am that they don't turn their backs when I make mistakes and fail. 
When I was a little girl, I had this fear of growing up. I literally wouldnt fall asleep at night for fear of the next day being closer to the one they wouldn't be there for. Why I knew and understood to such an intense level that a day would come when they would become unreachable I'll never understand, but that feeling has never gone away and grows as I very clearly see time running out. It's the reason I forgive easily and move on quickly with the people who matter the most to me. That fear sits at the very center of my life every day regardless of when I choose to feel it or ignore it, it's always been there. But, as I allow myself to see them in me more clearly the older I get, I'm trying to take comfort in the fact that no matter what happens when they can't be here for it, they will be because they made me and raised me and I am becoming equal parts of them and it wasn't my choice which parts took root. 
I don't know what qualifies a parent to be the "best" and I don't know if that's a prize the "best" parent would ever accept, but I do know when they give their speech they wouldn't say it was because their achievements were in spite of or despite their own parents, but because of them with all of their love, challenges, mistakes, failures, success, pride, joy, fear and sorrow. 
So, I guess I do kind of know what kind of parent I'll be when/if the times comes, so I'll just go ahead and say I'm sorry for the mistakes I'm going to make, but I couldn't wait to know what true love and overwhelming pride felt like. 

Thursday, May 9, 2013

yes jess.

Last year I made it the year of "yes."
It was supposed to be (and really was) a time for me to just go for it. Do things. Step outside of my comfort zone (and, by step I really mean tip-toe). Stop making excuses or flaking out. All of that.
I did learn a lot. I did do new things. I did trust myself a lot more and I did (and do) plan on expanding upon it this year.
Only right now, I just feel like a "yes" person.
I've said yes to so many things I'm not doing any of them well and most of them I don't want to do at all.
I said yes for the wrong reasons. Because I thought the intentions were different or because I thought it was a "sign" or because I can handle it or maybe a couple times because asking me really wasn't a question, just a courtesy.
And, like, I'm done. Not just because when I've asked for things I've been getting a lot of nos, but also because I really can't fake giving a shit about some things like I thought I could. And, mostly because I'm just exhausted.
What happened to the questions that were fun to say yes to?
I do realize that I should be flattered in some way about some things because someone wants me to do something for them and the bottom line is because they believe I'll do a good job. And, that's great. But, I don't feel like I'm doing a good job at any of them.
After this brain purge, it'll be like a preamble. I'll tighten it up and get my shit together and power through. Always do.
I just need to get a little more comfortable saying "no" to your things and "yes" to mine.
Those are the fun ones anyway.
Yes ma'am.

Thursday, May 2, 2013

anything could happen.

I'm struggling, y'all.
I've got all if these thoughts, feelings and things swirling around in my head and I just can't seem to be able to find them an escape route through my mouth or my finger tips.
I guess it could almost be considered writer's block, but it feels like so much more than that. It's all just on total lock down, but also not. I'll say it to almost anyone I know will lock it up and throw away the key except for the one it would matter to most.
And everyone's tired of hearing about it.
Here's what I've learned: I have some really patient and supportive friends. It's gotta be wearing thin though. The patience part, I mean. Conversations are now becoming more like "Cute. K. So when are you going to do something about it.." Which is the supportive part really.
This week's New Girl episode kind of caught me off guard. Wrapped up in hilarity and unexpected...hotness was this moment Nick had with his father under fucked up circumstances, mind you, but still, he said, "You think too much. You think too much about everything... You don't have to do anything that you don't wanna do, I just don't want you to miss out on things in life that are happening when you're not thinking because believe you me, those, are the best things in life." Thanks, Pop Pop.
That's what I was talking about last time and I'm still trying to process it all. Being impulsive just ain't something I'm finding in my blood. I clam up. And, like, literally, too. I let you be the brave one even though I'm the one always saying "be courageous." Just sitting here holding my breath.
Anything could happen. It might not end up like the fairy tale that's playing out in my head on constant rotation, but I don't know that it's been medically proven that anyone has ever died from embarrassment and I'm not googling it to find out.

Friday, April 12, 2013

more adventurous.

Livin and dyin every day.
I don't think anything sums me up more than that.
Even more so, it's borrowed, maybe even hijacked, from a friend's conversation with his father, but dammit if it isn't true, I just had to tuck it in my pocket, too, like most things, bits and pieces shared and borrowed from the people in my life.
I'm really trying to overcome it though. I set myself up for these high highs and get knocked down to the lowest of lows the first sign I get of failure or even just it's not going to work out quite like I had imagined it. And, trust me, I imagined it. I plan out the tiniest and biggest of things that are sure to be on the horizon at even a glimpse of a glimmer of a beginning of something.
And fall to pieces when that's not the way it goes.
Turns out, I'm a little dramatic in that way.
I feel like I'm constantly looking out to the horizon hand up to my forehead shielding my eyes from the sun squinting to see what's out there. What's next. What's ahead.
It's only now I'm leaning its not meant to be seen yet. Yet. What I imagine it to be or expect it to be will not be what it is and, more importantly, where I am now used to be a long distance ahead of me unseen until now. You know?
It's like, slow down, girl. Lets hang out here for a little while. Let's take in what's in front of my face. Let things be what they are today and nothing more and for that matter, nothing less.
A couple of weeks ago, I rode my first emotional roller coaster in years. The ups and downs. The thrills. The vomit inducing drops. I wasn't prepared.
As I sat, choking back tears between sips of whiskey or beer at the sight of something I really have no idea what I was looking at, it was very much an out of body "what the fuck am I doing pushing 30 cryin (though) sitting on a bar stool?!" moment.
I was living a moment ago.
And, now, I'm dying.
Just that quick.
Here's the the thing, when I'm living, I'm not living big. I don't seize moments. Take chances. Put it all out there and on the line. In the moment. I'm looking so far down the road I don't know the moment was there until I've already past it and that speck I thought was coming up on the horizon wasn't it at all.
This has been a constant issue, so go ahead kick my ass next time you see me. Shove me into the moment.
Even if I can't stop living and dying every day, I think it might be better if at least I'm doing it adventurously. It'll give y'all something better to talk about than me choking back tears of regret and slowly dying on a barstool and texting you about it.
Am I right?

Monday, March 4, 2013

lost and found.

I'm kind of lost. I've kind of lost myself.
I've gone back to my survival instincts of if I just keep hiding, don't make eye contact that thing that is very real will just go away. I'll get these urges to fight back, but that makes it real. So, I hide again. It never goes away, I just keep looking away. Making excuses. Accept it as part of the decor. Maybe I'll get a cute blanket or something to make it blend in.
Basically, for the first time in a long time, it's time to speak up in almost every area of my life and I find myself praying I lose my voice. Seriously. I felt a scratch in my throat a couple hours ago and I was hoping it would cause my voice to disappear by morning.
The thing I'm hiding from is the truth. By saying it out loud it makes it real and there are very real consequences. There's only one situation I can think of that could allow me to feel like a burden has been lifted, but it's so minor compared to the ton of bricks all the other ones will bury me in. The rubble that I'll have to dig my way out of. The fact that I know each way I look the world will look entirely different and, basically, I'm not ready to. I just started to accept what I see after 27 years.
I just want to do the right thing. I know the answers are obvious, but that doesn't make them easier even with their constant glaring. I try really hard to do the right thing and have little to no negative impact on others, but right now, I feel like any direction I go in I'm stepping on toes. Meanwhile, I'm stepping on eggshells.
So, I'm being challenged and tested again. Some situations are definitely pass or fail. I'm trying real hard to focus on the positives. To stop taking everything so personally. To understand that others actions (and consequences) aren't for me to own. To trust that I have done everything I can (and then some). To believe that magic happens when I'm out of my comfort zone.
I mean, I really don't have a need for any more cute blankets and my life is getting crowded with other people's bullshit again.
Time to do some spring cleaning. Find my way back and make sure if I'm lost, it is only for a little while.

Friday, February 8, 2013

spin.

It's really difficult to stay positive. For me anyway? For most people?
There are a few people I've encountered that have a way of letting things roll right off their back and not in a "don't give a shit" way either. It's one of the most admirable qualities I find in other people. I'm sure they break, too, maybe I'm just not who they choose to crack in front of.
I'm working really hard to put a positive spin on things. To own what I own. To trust that good, better, best is still ahead and worrying about it won't make it get here any faster. Sometimes happiness really is a choice. Sometimes.
I'm totally testing my endurance on this one. I have cracked and taken a time out (or two), but I've also become so sensitive to negativity it's almost as if I'm repulsed by it. You can only try to nudge someone in a positive direction so many times before you fight the urge to just shove them if at the very least just out of your way. And, if I hear another excuse I just may vomit, ok?
I get that everyone has their ups and downs. I've had more than a few bouts and it is important to have people you can just let it all out to. None of this is easy. It never will be. For anyone. But, damn, y'all, we're never going to win any of this if we gave up before the game even started.
All I know is, I'm feeling happier than I've felt in a long time. Not many things have changed in my life for me to pin point what's making it that way, and that's just it. I called that shot. Even in the face of the what ifs and have nots. I'm just kind of looking a little further ahead to the what's to comes and know they'll hit my door step right when I'm ready for em.

Sunday, February 3, 2013

your turn.

It's really no secret that I get obsessed with things. Completely. A TV show. A song. A drink. A crush. The past. I will get consumed.
I want as much of it as I can get and I'm going to talk about it until there's nothing left to talk about that you haven't heard three times, probably. I realized today just how much I appreciate that patience, and more importantly, support in my friends whether it was about Glee or my imaginary boyfriend.
These little obsessions are just refreshing. They're changing my reality. Maybe temporarily, not always.
I'm really appreciating the opportunities that are coming my way, but, I think it's more about the fact that I'm open to them at all to say "yes," you know?
I'm having more fun, taking more chances and putting myself out there just a little tiny bit and that support I was talking about makes all the difference. And, I'm not just talking about the sweet, I've got your back no matter what kind, I'm talking about the "I believe in you and this and you should keep going" kind. The ones that have butterflies in their stomach for you when you don't even have them. That want to know every single detail. It's just about investment. Really. Showing up.
So, I'm making moves, really I've made all the ones I've got as of right now. I just hope we keep playing the game.

Monday, January 21, 2013

puzzle.

I realize I'm where I'm supposed to be for reasons I'm probably not even fully aware of yet and I'm totally ok with that. Really.
But, it's hard not to watch the stories unfold in other people's lives (whether actually being a part of it or just stalking it on Facebook), and not wonder or even get some sense of urgency for when these things are going to make their way into your own storyline.
I listen real hard though and I don't hear a tick tock of any sort of biological clock. (It may also be because it just so happens all of the clocks and watches I own have dead batteries...) While I'm not a patient person in many areas of my life at all, this one I'm cool with. In due time. At the right time.
Turning 27 and being a part of some really incredible, life changing moments for people in my life while I was 26 did make me kind of see the days flying by, calendar changing.
I don't think I'm old, or feel old or think my life is over, and even though I do joke about my little life and my 30th birthday wishlist that consists only of getting my eggs frozen before they get all crazy (that's only a half-joke, it is pretty much a plan right now), I haven't given up.
But, it's like, where do the puzzle pieces come from? I can't find them? I've put the corners and edges down, but there's no real picture forming here, y'all. And, it kind of kills me. I just want to know. I could wait for it as long as I knew for sure it'll come and get figured out. Maybe. Probably not. I could impatiently, but a little more confidently wait.
Do people I know now have the pieces hiding in their pockets or do I have to find the people, too? Pieces like "When am I going to move?," "Am I going to move?," "What am I doing?," "Where am I going?," and "Whose gonna be there?"
It's really just a pot boiling over with "what ifs?" it's my favorite thing to keep on the stove after all. 

Sunday, January 20, 2013

conundrum.

I'm kind of trying to wrap my brain around the whole "perception is reality" thing. I mean, I get it on a basic level, but like whose perception is the real deal?
Just go with me for a minute.
Last night I had a few run ins with people from very different parts of my past and through catch up convos, I'm going to go ahead and admit, it felt really crazy to hear how they perceived me. In talking about the past with liquored up loose lips to hear people say things like how much they looked up to me in college and knew more about me than I ever knew people at such a distance could, it kind of blew my mind. Because it wasn't MY reality. It's not how I perceived myself to be. But, do I just not allow myself to see it? And, would arguing all of their points away change it?
I consider myself to be an observer. I'm the one who watches and takes notes and figures other people out. Why did I never consider that other people do, too?
I appreciated how candid they were and I was with them, too. On lots of subjects that I don't really get to talk so passionately about with very many people anymore. It was, in a word, refreshing. I mean, how can you not appreciate people saying they see you as this bad ass, take it or leave it, has her shit figured out girl? Granted, they haven't seen me in a while, but I didn't think I was projecting that in college either. I thought everyone was completely aware that I was (and still kind of am) an absolute fucking mess.
But, I drove home wondering just how people see me and, if more than one person does, maybe that is the reality? It's not every day people have the courage to just spill out what they think about you. it's not like I asked for it, but wouldn't it be nice if we could all always be so up front about it? Just say it?
I know who I am (today) sometimes that's easier to swallow than others. The reality is, it's always changing, always will. Some parts anyway. I always thought I wouldn't want to be who I used to be, but maybe I just got it all wrong? Well, not all of it. And, I'd be curious to know what the few people who I truly believe saw the real me then and now would say about that, too.
And, when I think about some people that are in the distance, I realize it takes major balls to come out and say just what you really think. Why is it hard to tell someone you think they seem pretty amazing? How is that a vulnerable spot to be in? And, here's the conundrum, my perception is probably not their reality.