Hello, Goodbye.

I've given up social networking for one month. Find out why & for daily updates go to http://blondenation.wordpress.com

Extreme Dating (future X-Games sport?)

Since I've been in California, I've come across a plethora of differences between the East Coast and the West Coast. Here's a tasty sampling:

-When you go to a bar in the Northeast, you will always hear Jay-Z. In LA, "California Love" by Tupac or anything by Dr. Dre will vibe through the crowd and get an entire room of people repping the Westside and dancing.

-Whereas there are countless Italian restaurants (authentic and delicious) in the tri-state area, Southern California is littered with the best Mexican you will ever taste.

-Punk kids vs. Bros

-SUVs for practicality vs. convertibles for everyday sunshine (or Prii for green-ness)

-Toll roads (get out your your EZ-Pass please!) vs. freeways

-Humidity vs. dry heat

-Knowing everyone vs. meeting new people every day

-The idea of living to work vs. working so you can live

Trust me, there are plenty more (feel free to leave some comments and add to the list)! But when the day is done, the difference is very clear: here on the West coast, we live a laid-back, casual life. East coasters find pleasure in extreme intensity in every facet of their lives, it seems. Intense work habits, intense talking mannerisms, intense rage...Or at least that's been my experience.

And so, over a cold beer tonight was born the realization of extreme dating. This is another little East Coast v. West Coast observation.

I've found dating in LA to be so much more of a game; a topic that somehow keeps re-emerging in conversation with friends this past week. I've been observing recently that courtship here in LA is strategic in the sense that there are certain roles everyone plays into, and you follow these superficial yet fairly-effective rules: pick your scene for the night, get ready, get on the list (if you need to), valet & get your scope on. It's formulaic but it's fun. People are much more approachable here; fellas want to put their best foot forward and conversations generally coast from "where are you from" to what it's like there to "what do you do" to "what do you WANT to do" to telling each other entertaining stories regarding some experience you both had in life ("OMG SO weird!")...it's pretty basic. Guys will always ask for your number, email, twitter account OR maybe even facebook you on the spot from their iPhone. You will most often hear back from them if they actually are single (married men who take off their rings when they go out or are "separated"- what a drag). You might snag a date if you're interested. You text here and there leading up to the date, go out, probably get drunk, go dancing, maybe have casual sex (no judgement!). This seems to be pretty basic, I think.

The aura of this dating roundabout is just so casual though. It was so fun when I first got here and five guys a night would talk to me and ask for my number or just be fun and interesting - I always felt like I had to battle guys back East, but more on that later. This casual meeting makes for casual dates and casual dating - it's all so laid back. No instant labels. No incessent texting. No real pressure, actually. It's fair to assume that the other person might be dating a few other people. It's just kind of...well, again, casual! But then I started to wonder if anyone in this city was ever serious...

I've casually dated around since I've gotten here a bit, and it most certainly has been a grand time. I've gone on the best dates of my life here! Dates here are all about doing things and going places and have a greater sense of adventure than perhaps that of the East Coast. I mean, it's not their fault; we have nice weather all year-round which is conducive to a lot of "doing."

So the other end of the spectrum would be where you would find East Coast dating styles. The whole experience is just much more intense. First, just simply meeting a dude is a whole different experience. New game, new rules. I find that the guys base their initial pick-up on cynicism or making fun of the girl in some way. I can't tell you how many times I've had a conversation started with me by a dude who is making fun of a piece of jewelry I'm wearing or the drink I'm drinking. If I've got a Hoegaarden, then New Castle is "soooo much better." Maybe I'm wearing a chunky bracelet, I'll get a "wow, did you steal that from a hobo?"

Aside from the fact that it's flat out rude, or that dumb guys sometimes have to act like they're not interested because they think that's how you'll know they aren't interested (for a great commentary on this, check out http://cateblack.blogspot.com/2010/02/happy-valentines-day.html), it's just a more intense experience. It's like guys want to grill you up front; if they mock you it's because they're trying to get to know you I suppose. If they're interested then you'll perhaps go on a date, but instead of the do-something-fabulous date, I feel as if it's more geared to getting to know one another more quickly - dinner dates versus "doing dates." Lots of one-on-one time. It's just more direct. You get the point.

But then, it seems, things become even more intense while dating. I feel like people are on a fast-track to get to the point - either it's gonna work out for a long run or it won't. Fights are earlier on. I think there's a greater possessiveness that exists amongst couples. People don't date around - multiple people at once - the same way it's a norm here. There's always a general level of expectation from both girls AND guys. And if it's not gonna work out, then onto the next. Giddy-up!

Being someone who comes from this East coast style, the west coast dating realm has certainly surprised me. So I suppose the question is now: Which style of dating is better? The extreme intensity of the East coast world or the casual, laid-back LA dating scene?

Both have horrible flaws. One the one hand, I frequently meet guys who are SUPER hot, charming and 35 or older. They're total and self-proclaimed bachelors! It's like the George Clooneys of the world are all flocking to Los Angeles. And they'll stay that way for as long as they want because they're the fun, wealthy good looking guys that will only get hotter with age, you know? This isn't a bad thing if you're looking for a good time, but if you are hoping to one day have something deeper than that, well, don't count on this population of men to be calling you just so he can come over and snuggle on the couch when it's raining. And it's not just the Cloonians, it's representative of the majority of the people dating in LA, both women and men. Looking for a good time with someone they enjoy - light, casual. It's essentially reflecting the attitude or aura of the city on a whole. You might find love and I'm sure many do - but it never seems to be the initial goal.

As far as the East coasters go, well, the downside is that intensity can be forceful, and forced can fail. I know for a fact (at least for myself) that love arrives when you least expect it. So rushing through the process or starting it off with that negative attitude that I so often find in East coast dudes is not the right approach. Over-commitment too soon is like sentencing yourself to relationship hell. I know people who are in true love will probably disagree, but even if you are, isn't it fun to keep things at a slower pace to keep it in check? What's the rush? Savor the courtship (assuming there is some). Daydream about the other person. I don't know why but I guess I just feel like the East coast style is so aggressive, so fast, so pushy. It makes me uncomfortable.

So there you have it. My preference is the LA scene because it's more fun. I like to think that dating should be fun and exciting. I want to date around and learn what I like and don't like. I love doing new things with new people and well, this is the place to be for that. It is frustrating sometimes because this town is a town of do-ers and move-ers: everyone is actively trying to get to somewhere and so if you don't fit into that, well, you might be eliminated. But on the other hand, it's a wonderful thing to date people who are aspiring for great things that they are passionate about.

I think I'll take my chances, double down, and believe that I'll find someone fun to be passionate about and with...

the trickle-down effect

In the time spanning my most recent post, (not the test one, obviously) I've come a long way. Somewhat reluctantly. But I've come a ways.

Last I left my dear audience of about two, I was coming undone over a relationship that had ended. I was writing through my broken heart which unfortunately, still aches, as I wondered what the next step for me would be. Getting dumped came at a strange time for me; I felt like I was at a momentary apex, but I was starting to fe like my chest was beginning to fall inwards from that exquisite, drawn-in breath.

I was having a life-high. Everything was grand. The best life had been, actually. Great location, good job, meeting interesting new people every day, fantastic boyfriend and all other relationships doing extremely well. I felt proud of all that I had achieved and felt like I deserved them. I've always been a hard worker, but more recently become a chance-taker. I'm extraordinarily proud of myself for the gambling I've done based on what my heart has suggested I do. This most recent, best version of me was yielding amazing wealth in every facet of my life.

And so came this blow that was the last knockout of the match. I had gone a couple rounds of getting knocked down - feeling truly depressed again, feeling increasingly unsatisfied in my relationship, feeling unfufilled in my job with little-to-no extracurricular activities keeping me busy - and that was the final right hook. I needed to collapse for a bit while and let my head spin while the ref counted to ten. I was, and still slightly am, out for the count.

Did you ever put puzzles together as a child? I loved puzzles and they were always a family activity for myself and my siblings. We would go to the Jersey Shore on vacation for a week, and to prevent us from watching TV, my mom would buy us 100-piece puzzles at the five and dime (yes, they still have one in Ocean City, NJ) to pass the down time and to bond, I suppose. I loved them. They were beautiful and lovely, these individual, intricately cut pieces, coming together to form a picturesque scene that really didn't matter. And then, when we were all done standing over this puzzle on whatever table it was on with our hands on our hips for an awkward amount of time, one of us would look at the other and give the signal of destruction. I swear to God, I can still see us in slow-motion, all running toward that puzzle at the same time, wanting to rip it apart, only to rebuild the next one. We would make sure not ONE piece was left hooked to it's neighbor. I think that's about how I felt this past week. Like a hundred pieces randomly scattered about with only the box to hold me. And the pretty cover with what it's supposed to look like on the front.

And so since Saturday, I've let myself feel whatever it is that I needed to feel. Exposed, sad, angry, enraged, confused, broken. I didn't bother trying to pick up all the pieces because I just knew that if I tried to put it all back together too soon, it just would become frustrating. I've learned in the past and I suppose that I'm remembering it all again in the present that sometimes things must come undone in order for there to be a reconstruction. I forgot this about myself - that after the greatest fall comes my greatest strength.

It's scary feeling like things are falling through your fingers and that you might not actually be able to control everything in your life. But sometimes instead of scrambling, just ride it out. You have to let go every once in a while.

I did this. I was originally going to give myself a month to feel whatever I needed to and act out in any way I needed to in order to get it out of my system, but I've found after one week that I'm not sure I truly need all that time. In this past seven days, I've cried for everything, drank too much, screamed in my car, flipped people off, smoked too many cigarettes, been a bitch, etc. This week seemed to have tired me out though, and here I am on day seven, coming to a point of reconciliation. I'm starting to get over my breakup as well as some of the other things that were overwhelming my mind. Part of that was out of my control - the guy never contacted me at all which made for a strange cut; strange in that my mind deserved to not me tormented by a teaser of any sort, which was something that equally tormented my heart. Ironically enough, I had actually given him the link to my blog about a week before he broke up with me so he could hear my writing. I suppose if you're finally getting around to reading this, well, I'm not sure who should feel more embarrassed.

I know I feel better when I say cynical things out loud and then seconds later realize I don't believe it.

I had a discussion this week that accidentally put some things in perspective for me. It was a discussion meant for my own personal well-being in that I was trying to find more information about doing a PhD in American Studies. My mentor, a former professor of mine and an amazingly gifted individual, Dr. Michael Aaron Rockland, had set aside some time for us to talk about his experiences in getting his higher education. We began with a Q&A format: I asked about how he chose his school, how he paid for the program, the question of whether or not to get an MA first, the financial gamble in the academic career realm and also the possibility of getting a PhD in History or English to broaden my career opportunities. I was feeling frustrated because I didn't want to be logical about something I'm so passionate about. Then the conversation made a turn. He said to me, "Beth, look. I can tell you all your options, I can give you all the information head-on, but I don't want to be the one discouraging something that you love. If you know that this is what you want, follow your heart."

He went on to tell me about how every decision he has ever made that has brought him great wealth in life has been because he did exactly what his heart told him to do. I felt electric. For a long time in my life I felt like I did what I thought was "right" instead of trusting my gut. But those times where I listened to what my very inner core was telling me, I shone brighter than I ever had before. I listened to his incredible stories of passion about being drafted into the military and being a cultural attache and spending time with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and his experiences becoming a dean at Rutgers, founding the American Studies Department, his marriage choices, his children, his authorship, his 28 rejections before having his first book published which then went on to become a New York Time's "Notable Books" - the man used his internal compass to find his direction and has flourished. In a world where everyone tells you to look both ways before crossing, sometimes you just have to trust your instincts and leap.

This lit a fire in my heart, in my mind.

We spoke further and he said two more things that stuck to me. The first being that no matter what, you should always be yourself across the board. If you do what you love, you will succeed the most in that. Additionally, if you allow yourself to do what you love, your professional life as well as your personal life will be one. Having fluidity between these two, I feel, is admirable and something I desperately dream of having in my life. I think about those I look up to most in life, and in every single instance, they are folks that are and do exactly as they are. My mom, for example, is that kind of person. She is a neonatal nurse, is such a caretaker to her children and all those around her, is a rock of a woman-mother figure, is a pro-life activist as well as a devout Catholic. I may not necessarily agree with her points of view, but by God, that woman is a beacon of light to all those who surround her. She upholds her sense of self regardless of what others around her may think. I want to be an academic and a purveyor and diffuser of knowledge. I dream of teaching others as well as being someone who learns from all of my experiences. I know I will be this person and I like to think I'm already in the making...

The second thing that Dr. Rockland said to me was that he has no regrets in life. I too feel this exact sentiment and it's been my mantra for quite some time now. I have had a truly dark and difficult personal past and I know that regardless of every bad or good decision I've ever made, each of those choices has shaped me into who I am today. I like who I am and I respect all of the bad and the good, and thus I regret nothing. I can honestly and openly speak on each one of my life-instances and feel like I could offer some piece of knowledge to someone through these experiences. I have nothing to be ashamed of and I am very proud of that.

And so this conversation of false reality and truth and hopes and dreams and finally, excitement, has led me to believe that I, in fact, have perhaps fallen down and can not-so-simply regroup. I will be okay. I've done this before under a different facade and I will once again prevail a stronger gal than I was in the first place. I always have been happiest and reaped the greatest wealth from following my heart.

And so this week of self-reflection and analyzing has taught me many things I would like to work on, but also that it is definitely okay to feel, to be, and to grow. There needs to be a balance in life between control and focus amongst the desire to just "go with the flow."

I've lived and loved and worked hard and fallen and come back again. And I will once more.

test

what the fuck is going on with my fonts? html is rejecting me

Hello, Monday

Monday. Usually a day of refreshing back-to-work energy for me. Most people loathe Monday; I embrace it. It’s the beginning of a new week. New activities on the horizon. Usually.

Today is not one of those Mondays for me. Today I woke up feeling groggy and sick. I didn’t sleep well – I kept waking up over and over only to remember that this past weekend was not, in fact, a dream at all. Sleep was my only hope for my mind to shut up. And even then, bad thoughts swam in my REM cycle.

I lost something Saturday. I lost a guy, a relationship. Okay, so I didn’t misplace it – I was relieved of girlfriend duty (thank you friend for telling me to stop saying “dumped”). I had certain expectations of what I wanted, things I thought to be fairly reasonable: more time, more attention. I was angry at not getting these things I had once had earlier on in the relationship and resentful that it was diminishing before my eyes. I suppose I was, in essence, just gripping sand. I didn’t understand why I was losing ground and I guess I still don’t understand, really.

I feel mad, I feel sad, I feel confused and hurt. My heart feels heavy and my stomach sick. My ego is bruised. I’m completely and utterly humiliated. I feel like a complete idiot and that pisses me off, for lack of a more eloquent way to say it.

I always thought it was a strange thing that people would try to argue with their now-former significant other as to why they shouldn’t be dumped. I mean, seriously, you can’t really argue your way into making that person feel a certain way toward you – that is desperate, pathetic and sad. Although, now being the person relieved of duty (I’ve only ever been on the other side), I can understand the irrational distress of wanting reasons why, wanting to know what I could have done for things to be better. I got the bullshit list of “I’m trying to make you feel better about the fact that I’m dumping you” reasons, which only made me feel smaller. I guess there’s no nice way to do it, but I didn’t get a last anything. I’ve never had such a clean cut and although I’m not one for a drawn-out anything, I find myself pathetically hoping that when my phone dings, it’s him. I disgust myself with these embarrassingly hopeless thoughts.

However in this instance, I’m not sure that there was anything I could have done. I suppose it just wasn’t meant to be, and I just happen to feel more invested than the other party (hello, embarrassing). Of course I want to analyze and make justifications as to why I’m definitely not to blame – he was too robotic, too unemotional, too logical, too busy, too uncomfortable, too something that makes me not have to look at me. I get the sympathy lines like, “you’re too good for him,” or “he wasn’t man enough to handle how deep you run and how dynamic you are” or other crazy Beth-propaganda that just makes me feel patronized and stupid. I don’t believe those things, at least not right now while I’m feeling totally burned and insecure. None of this makes me feel better. Or makes sense to me.

I do, however, feel robbed in various ways. Robbed of my dignity in the sense that I feel as if I had been cut out in the way volleyball practice has to be cut out on Sundays to make room for some other, better activity. I cringe at that thought, which makes me feel disposable. I think, “well, if I was that disposable, then he must not have really cared at all in the first place.” This might be wrong, but it sure as hell feels pretty accurate in this key-slamming moment. Which, in turn, cues the humiliation.

I wasn’t searching for a relationship by any means. I had just come off one of the worst weeks of my life when my roommate dragged me out to some random soccer outing. I walked on that astro turf field with zero expectations resenting that I had been forced to put jeans on when all I really wanted to do was hide at home. But by the end of the night, I found myself intrigued by a guy who I was instantly attracted to for his humor, smarts, good looks and exciting attitude. And I continued with that because I thought he was fabulous. Not because it made sense, or because it was a good time to be in a relationship or that he looked good on paper. I genuinely liked him and just enjoyed being around him. And I truly thought he felt those same things about me because I thought that was why people date in the first place, right? Because they like one another? Perhaps just his feelings dwindled and mine didn’t. If that’s the case, well, I suppose I can’t be angry at that.

Whatever the case, I feel slightly in shock. I mean, things weren’t really going the way I wanted in the sense that I felt I wasn’t getting enough of his time, but I guess I just thought that it was just a hiccup and that it would be okay in the end because they way he used to look me right in the eye before he kissed me spoke louder than circumstance. I suppose I was jaded. Again, cue feeling positively stupid.

I can’t seem to shake this rug-out-from-under feeling. I wish I could just be exactly the way that I thought others should be when I broke up with them – “can’t we just be adults, agree that it didn’t work and just move on” but it’s much easier to be that way if you’re not the one being dumped. I’ve never been dumped. This is awful. I can’t even think of his face without feeling a knot in my stomach, not to mention the other physical and non-physical reminders like my toothpaste, or my socks or a sweatshirt or an entire town. It’s really goddamn annoying.

I don’t know how I’ll feel better but I will assume distraction and time will yield personal growth and realizations about what other things I want, don’t want blah blah blah blah…

Time. Time. Tick tock.

a poem that uses the word "armpit" is still art

I love Walt Whitman for a multitude of reasons. He was a dandy man, openly flamboyant in a time of rigid, puritanical American school of thought. Mr. Whitman wrote confusing cryptic poems that used words like "armpit" which was totally absurd to most. He wrote the same poem for close to twenty years but would change and build on it every time he published a new copy. The man was a little eccentric. But, he did write the following words which have totally touched me since I first read them in the basement classroom of a bland 1970s Rutgers academic building:

"I celebrate myself,
and what I assume you shall assume..."

I feel like what Whitman is saying is that you decide who you are, set the example of how you want to be treated and other will follow suit. This idea that you determine what gives you value is so vital to our everyday lives an seemingly insignificant to most, probably, but I feel as if this is something I sometimes struggle with.

Last night, over a few Miller Lites, I discussed with my dear friend the topic of personal faults. I find that mine tend to all revolve around my struggle with self-respect and being confident in my worth. More detailed issues spawn from this; I find that I fear that others won't respect my opinion and also I don't usually give myself any credit for how smart I actually am or the things I've accomplished. I tend to be in awe of others' capabilities, smarts and charm and don't see those things in myself. Now, these fears or faults or whatever you choose to call them don't run my everyday life; I don't live in fear and self-loathing, but these issues will selectively rear their little ugly heads on occasion, and when they do, I start to feel like I'm shrinking.

Being a hypersensitive person, I find that growing up I felt like I was what others told me I was - stupid, fat, ugly, weird, dorky, whatever. I thought, well, if that's what others see, then everyone must see that too, right? I accepted what others labeled me as true because I was a child and that's what you do when you're young and impressionable. I continued with that train of thinking for quite sometime. It wasn't until I came into my own more during my last years of high school and then in college that I came to respect my own opinions and ideas and looks, etc.

I learned to speak my mind and think unconventionally and be confident in that, but my fear of what I can only assume to be emotional rejection (it could be seeking approval, I'm not sure which best fits) still lingers in ways. It's like this: I can get mad and pissed off about something and I'm usually right (it sounds bad but hey, I have like a 94% success rate and being right I think, lol), but when it comes down to confrontation, I get pretty uncomfortable. No one likes confrontation unless you're say, a lawyer, I suppose. But this is fairly unhealthy thinking in the sense that I automatically become fearful of that other person rejecting me or not respecting or listening to what I'm saying. It just goes back to not having the sense of self-worth that I deserve to hold for myself.

It's kind of funny writing this out loud (I think that's the correct blogging phraseology for this) because when I re-read the last paragraph, it sounds pretty embarrassingly, honestly, and makes me feel almost defensive of my own thoughts. I want to be like, "hey, I'm better than that!" because, lets be honest, these aren't exactly the kind of traits we would want to write down on a job application...I can just picture the reaction you might get if you filled out a job questionnaire on an interview like so:

Question: What would you say are your weaknesses?
Answer: Well, sir, I find that I have a hard time always asserting my self-worth to myself.

...probably would end up with an "um, oh." and a "we will be getting back to you soon..." and you are shooed out of the office.

Although I have to say, it does makes me slightly happy because then I know I'm able to progress if I instantly know that I deserve better for myself. You can't make something better for yourself if you aren't aware of what the issue is, you know?

I'm constantly looking to try and improve myself in ways and understanding these faults or issues is the first step toward making that happen. I always try to speak up regardless of whether I feel comfortable or not simply because I know I need to do it to get used to that. And therein lies the wonderful, lovely, inspiring truth in what Whitman has to say.

I must learn to celebrate myself. The last two years of my life I've learned to do a better job of that which I'm happy about. If you don't celebrate the ins and outs of who you are - the clumsiness, the way you stutter when you're flabbergasted, the way you snore at night, the crooked middle bottom tooth that shows when you smile, your inability to be suave, your nerdiness, your over analyzation, your everything - if you don't celebrate these you run the risk of self-loathing and eternal frustration. Celebrate yourself, dammit!

And in this celebration of yourself allows other to celebrate yourself too - when you walk with your head down with the fear of others running into you, they will. When you walk down the street with your head up and your shoulders back and a smile on your face like you own the whole damn sidewalk, then you will be regarded that way.

Flaws and personal struggles are okay. They're good, they help us find out what we want to improve to make ourselves a better. You have to teach yourself that you deserve respect and love from others, all flaws included.

Love yourself, and others will follow.

Empowerment (by mistake)

Thankfully for me, few and far between are the days when I wake up and say to myself, "oh shit."

An "oh shit" morning is never a good one to have. Circumstances under which these mornings (well, or afternoons depending on what kind of sleeper you are) occur include, but are most certainly not limited to:
- one night stands
- one night stands with a person who looked way different in the dark of the bar under the influence of five Long Island Iced Teas
- drunken texting your ex-boyfriend the night before
- oversleeping an important meeting
- falling asleep at your keyboard the night before your big term paper is due
- leaving your cell phone somewhere
- looking through your phone and seeing phone numbers saved under names like "Texas Ted" or "Drunk Bitch"
- realizing that the day before was your mother/brother/sister/best friend's birthday and you never called

All of these things may or may not have happened to you and me. Something similar happened to me last night. I drank too much and was so hung over this morning that I had to call out of work. And by "happened to me" I mean I was 100% responsible for that "happening."

That feeling is kind of diversified depending on the situation. First, there's that "HOLY SHIT" fire-under-your-booty at an ungodly hour of the morning because you realized you did something dumb or forgot something important. Secondly, there is the more subdued yet equally terrifying "ooooooooooohhh shit." In the latter, you might roll over instead of jump up, put your hand to your head, rub your eyes and feel instant nausea because you know you screwed up in some capacity.

Either way, the "oh shit" moment is something we all generally try to avoid.

Yes, I accomplished this today. Well, I supposed I accomplished it last night...regardless, I felt stupid and foolish for being irresponsible and letting myself act like an idiot when I have responsibilities to uphold. I have a job that pays me to be there and contribute and unfortunately, I did not keep up my end of the deal. I'm so careful and such a damn worry wart all of the time, and so when I do something wreckless it's my self-guilt that destroys me regardless if there are actual consequences to my actions.

Now, I won't get fired for not showing up. Honestly, there's no one that needs me directly. My work can wait till the next day to get done. There are no external punishments coming my way, which in turn, actually just makes the self-guilt worse. Now I know many are probably thinking this it dumb, that I'm making a post out of something that isn't a big deal, BUT! I'm not posting to just verbalize my insanity, I've reached a happier conclusion that makes all of my introspective madness a little less heavy.

My great friend Magdalena and I talked tonight for the first time in a while. She got engaged (!!!) and was telling me all about it, and when it was my turn to dish, I of course gave her the details on my fabulous life (the best version of myself and life ever) - the boy, the job, the adventures - but I also had to dish about the "at-this-very-moment" feeling of disappointment in myself. After all, I didn't get to where I am today by doing stupid things and being irresponsible and I LOATHE the feeling that results by doing so. She brought up an example of how this very incident repeated itself a few months back. We had gone out to dinner with a friend of hers, Joe, to sushi. Sushi was followed by Karaoke Night at the local Hulihan's (keeping it classy) where Joe proceeded to get me crazy drunk by buying drink after drink where I then decided that it would be a GREAT idea to sing "Hotel California" in front of a room of strangers (something I try to avoid). Needless to say, I didn't make it to work the next day and I had to fetch my car in the middle of the afternoon with extremely oversized sunglasses. I felt terrible, had missed a class or two that day in addition to work. It was bad.

But honestly, looking back, I realized that it was a memory, it was just something I silly I did when I was 22 and it really didn't have any larger implications. And sometimes, we just have to accept our stupid moments and embrace them as just that. Sometimes it's okay to be just flat-out dumb. Because looking back, it's alright. It didn't hurt anyone but me. It didn't teach me anything in particular except try to not do that again (I mean, if we're being honest here). Sometimes these things can be not a learning experience but instead a stepping stone, a starting point, or something like that. It reminds me that sometimes I worry too much and get stressed out about over planning and having everything turn out a certain way in my life.

I have had a terrible day brooding over this and after having this talk and following thought process I feel like I've become slightly more empowered. Magdalena said to me, "there will be plenty of things in life that will beat you up and try to take you out, so honestly, you don't have to be the one to add to that," which I thought was absolutely brilliant. I'm not saying that I shouldn't be accountable, only that sometimes you just have to let go of the stress of messing up.

It makes me feel better thinking that I should give myself a hug sometimes rather than beat myself up, you know?

Forgive my wandering thoughts here, sometimes I find a clear idea in a very non-linear way...

I leave this post feeling a little more together, with a little more direction and a tad less shamed. Sometimes I hate how over-analytical I am and how my mind is so detailed oriented and overworked with an endless flow of acute self-awareness. It's exhausting! But on the other hand, being this way allows me to gain a deeper understanding of myself and others. It's a gift in that way, this ability to dig deeper than most, because in the end, it's what allows me to have such special relationships with those I love.

Yea, I'm pretty damn special!

Cheers (apple juice),

Me

good things happen to those who dream

and so I've derailed my norm and have actually been writing more than once every three months...

Here I am. A new year. 2010. Doesn't it sound so big? It sounds scary, like I should be expecting some big boom of sorts. I think we all are, though, aren't we?

I finally went back into my journal and my blog to dig out what my promise was to myself last year. I wanted to be more honest with myself. I wanted to recognize my faults (or greatness, depending on who you are asking, heh) and really try to clean out my closet. I wanted to be true to myself in various ways. I can't say for certain that I feel as if I've truly accomplished this in any tangible way. I think I rid myself fairly well of things I felt like were a lie - relationships with people that weren't especially great for me, habits I wanted to eliminate, etc...I feel like I didn't do a great job of keeping this frame of mind, though. Perhaps I was busy with other changes in life that maybe led me to indirectly clearing out my closet, i.e. moving clear across the country, however, I didn't really consistently keep this train of thought in mind.

In past years, I would remind myself of my resolution on a regular basis - being a bigger bitch, being more selfish, etc., but this year I feel as if I fell a bit short of this particular goal. Recognizing my shortcomings has prompted me to create a new and improved resolution that I feel I can identify with and...remember? This is to be more timely.

I once had an ex whom, among many other things, was (in short) - a dick. Always rude and judgemental, he once said to me (half jesting, half serious), "YOU ARE LATE FOR EVERYTHING!" I was flabbergasted! Me?!?! Not taking critique well, I scoffed and, annoyed, denied this (what I thought) artificial truth and kept my stride. But then I realized, he was right. I was always the last person to class. I always was the last to my meetings. I was always the one saying I would be ten minutes when I would be thirty. I have zero concept of time and space. Thus, this year, despite my expertise in planning and structure, have zeroed in on a fault I would very much like to edit.

I think in addition to be physically devoted to this quest, I would also like to be mentally attached to this also. You can be late for an event, but you also can put off something you desire to do. I want to not only be prompt but to grab whatever it is I'm dreaming of and grab it by the balls and say, "hey, right now, let's do this." I've always been envious of others who are able to take and tow and so now, in this moment, I want to vow to become that person.

Transformation across time is a wonderful thing. I've quite recently turned into this person that dreams and does, something that the Me of three years ago would mock while I sucked down my Marlboro light in my skinny jeans outside of whatever academic building I was waiting for class outside of. I remember quite clearly the day that I woke up in the late afternoon from an insomnia-driven half-coma and cried because I had dropped all of my classes except Folk Festival and wanted to just flat-out quit college. I didn't know or believe that I deserved better. I had been on a depression-driven (literally, ha) roller coaster for years and years and was convinced that I was only as good as my coffee and substance high could get me. I had overly-introspective issues about what I was destined for. I was convinced that my purpose in life was to suffer while others prospered. It took me a long and difficult while to get my act together and finally understand that there is a greater life and self beyond what might seem feasible, something which is only truly achievable through dreaming and doing. My first real flirtation with believing and doing was with quitting smoking, and then after conquering that, becoming folk festival Manager and becoming a runner and growing into myself mentally. The more I tried and won, the more I realized that anything is possible.

And so regardless if you're late for everything (me) or just wanting to improve some part of yourself (me+you), the power is in your ideas, your thoughts and your dreams. I feel like I have come a million and a half miles from where I started, and knowing that I can go five million-plus more is an overwhelming and invigorating feeling. I now have everything I deserve and much, much more. Waking up every day and being excited about what's next is the best damn feeling in the world.

I can only keep dreaming and keep stepping one foot in front of the other, but having the faith that I'll get to where I want to be is what will get me there. If you haven't already experimented with a little walk on the dreamer's side, I recommend you do so.

Good things come to those who dare to dream

All These Things That I've Done

I did good this year.

In the spirit of reflection, I've decided to take a look back at the things I've accomplished (insert pat on the back here) and be seriously grateful as well as even more inspired.

This year certainly started with a sheBANG. I rang in the new year at my favorite local spot in New Brunswick, the Ale n' Wich. Condusive to smoking packs of cigarettes and drinking heavy-handed jack and cokes all while beating everyone at foosball, this place housed most of my college drinking. It got to the point where I was there six nights a week. Before I was 21. No lie.

Promptly after I jet-setted out to Disney World, fulfilling my life-long dream of overcoming my resentful childhood and setting foot in the world-renound land of magic...except I was doing this with my ex. Try taking a week-long vacation in Disney World with your ex-boyfriend sometime. Let me know how that goes.

Beginning of January = Kings of Leon concert at Madison Square Garden with Sarah. No words are good enough.

The end of January and on put me into full-responsibility mode with the Folk Festival. I lived in a house with all girls but essentially lived alone. Getting up at 6, going to bed at 2, spending the majority of my days at the Gatehouse (those who saw me through the NJFF know what's up). Occasionally I would get annihilated with Sarah and stumble home from whatever local bar was the flavor of the evening. Decided to move to LA & picked a random date: June 22nd.

Enter March-April. Greg floated in and out of my life, I thought maybe things could be right with us again. I still stayed focused on my own career (school) though and only became more diligent.

Last Saturday in April - 35th Annual New Jersey Folk Festival - I saw all of the hard work I never knew I could possibly accomplish manifest in one day. It was the best turnout of any folk festival ever and I had put it together. I have never had a child, but I imagine that this kind of joy is only ever rivaled by that. Some of the best folks I've ever met (pun absolutely intended) were a part of this team and I will never EVER forget what we all created together. Go New Jersey.

May rolled around and before I knew it, I was writing final papers and getting drunk at Senior Seminars wondering what life might be life after graduation. I knew I was headed for California but every time I would say it, it just sounded like a line; I heard it but I wasn't even sure that I believed it. I soaked up every minute though, partook in every senior activity. Sarah and I had become best friends and I savored every second of our careless Tuesdays at the Olive Branch. I don't think I've ever created so many memories in such a short amount of time. May 21st I graduated - a day I never thought I would see. Finishing something so big never seemed so awesome.

June was a month of soaking up everything I could. My mom and I did everything together - Phillies games, dinners, crying over fear of the future...June 22nd was the day I had planned on for so long and feared more than anything I've ever done. I had my graduation party two days before I moved and I never realized how many people I had in my life that really truly loved me. I said my goodbyes and on Monday morning, packed up my Honda Civic with my best friend in tow and embarked on the 3ooo mile journey to the West coast.

July was the buffer month. I soaked up the new fabulousness of living in LA. I went to the beach a few times a week, worked on my tan while I revamped my resume, went on interviews with no success but because I was in the honeymoon phase, I didn't really care what happened because I was in a state of total bliss...

July 31st was again one of the most joyful moments in my life. I watched my best friend Sarah get married. I cried like a bitch. Those two mean the world to me. My other best friend, Bryan, was the best date and I'm sure he'll never let me live down how I tried to convince him to be straight so I could wife him.

August came and went - a month of interviews and again, no success. Started to wonder what would become of me.

September hit me hard. What was I doing? Would I be successful? Would I make my life work? Was this all just some crazy pipe dream? I just kept going because I didn't know what else to do. Enter Starbucks.

October I finally landed my job - working at USC. I was able to quit my job at Starbucks and throw that fucking green hat out and right there and then vowed that I would do whatever it took to never make a latte with no foam at 180 degrees again. October was by far the most tumultuous month for me in every sense of the word. I never wish to relive that month; it was one of the worst of my life. I've never been so humbled and worn down in a thirty-day span.

November. Missing the seasons change actually got to me. I never though those annoying multi-colored leaves on the ground and sticking to my shoes would mean something. I never though seeing rain would be so impressive. I never anticipated how much I would miss my family.

December, here I am. I've never been so happy in my life. I have everything I could dream of and more. I have a spectacular life. I live in one of the most lively cities in the country, working at a world-class university, have an amazing apartment with my self-proclaimed soul-mate sleeping ten feet from me every night. I am dating a guy that is so wonderful that I quite frankly don't know what to do with. I feel so proud, so happy, so content and so ready for the next step.

Bring it on, 2010.

What did you resolve??

Drawing near Christmas and the New Year, I’ve begun to do a little bit of reflection. OK, a little is a serious understatement. I’ve been basically overanalyzing everything I’ve experienced in the past year, and trying to understand what the moral of the story is. For most, the ball-dropping, drunk-kissing, champagne-toasting New Year is the beginning of a new diet or a new hair color or a maybe a new single-gal start. This is all fine and dandy and even encouraged, but let us not forget those elusive resolutions from last year…

After all, resolutions imply that something is resolved. Something you wanted to change, you make a promise to resolve it. You want to lose weight? Resolve the issue you have with the ten pounds you want to shed. I actually am having a difficult time trying to remember what it is that I vowed to do for the year (defeating the resolution process) however in past years I can say I have had serious success in whatever I’ve promised to resolve. For instance, two years ago, I vowed to be more selfish. Being someone who has issues with standing up for myself or too often placating others before self, I felt that being more selfish would allow me not only to improve my personal sense of worth, but also help me to focus on getting done the things I wanted to do for myself.

Ok, so January 1^st – promises made. We walk (or stumble, depending on how you party on New Year’s Eve) into this new beginning. These resolutions are the nice ones, the ones you decide to do for yourself, the ones that you feel like you want to achieve because there is something about yourself or your behavior that you feel just isn’t up to par. But what about those times when it isn’t the New Year? When something accidentally happens to you that you must take a serious look at yourself right now and evaluate what you must do…I had a moment like this yesterday. I had a moment where I was embarrassed about something I’ve been analyzing about myself. I’ve been mentally formulating some kind of plan for myself to improve this aspect of me, but haven’t really solidified or followed through on any kind of plan. Someone once told me this brilliant jem of truth: “the difference between a dream and a goal is that if it is a goal, you have a plan with real attainable steps.” And so my little mental game of planning with no follow through means I had only been dreaming of what I wanted. And sometimes, it takes a rude awakening to push you into goal-mode.

And so, I was accidentally humiliated, unbeknownst to the other person who accidentally caused this scenario. I spent the night replayed the incident and cringing to myself, wishing it had never happened and letting my insecurities manifest themselves into self-pity and mascara-streaked tears. I mean, who really needs an outside reminder of what they already know and loathe?

Actually – we all do.

I was finally able to talk about my scenario with my other half and best friend and although she gave me the words of comfort we all seek when venting to someone, she also said something real and honest that only someone who truly loves you will tell you: take the insult and injury and run with it. Suck it up and use this humiliation for motivation. I’m not going to deny what happened and comfort myself with hollow ego-boosting adjectives. I’m going to start right now – right this minute, and start to do what needs to be done. It may have been somewhat of a resolution to me that I was planning on committing to when the New Year strikes, but now it has become a goal that starts right this very instant.

The best part of a resolution is the excitement of the end result. The best part of the end result is what you learned on your way there. I think a lot of failure (as far as resolutions go) has to do with the fact that people tend to replace the excitement with fear. Of course frustrations and roadblocks can send us into a tailspin to which we lose our visions, however, I feel like if you can really really get yourself excited about your potential to create whatever you want for yourself, you gain a sense of empowerment that will block out most of those frustrations. Believing that you can ACTUALLY do what you are trying to do is 90% of the battle. If you can see yourself in the place, use your motivation (even if it comes of a place of humiliation) and make one small conscious effort towards your goal after another, you will surely reap the benefits in no time. We all know when we’re really being diligent and when we’re not. I mean, c’mon – sleeping in those extra twenty minutes feels good at the moment but you know how awfully guilty you feel when it means you just missed your morning run…

And so here I am, t-minus three days until Christmas and tapping away at my keyboard being introspective and weird at work (see, I know I’m not being diligent at work here and I’m not afraid to admit it). I have created for myself a plan of diligence and discipline to achieve what I want that is simple: color inside the lines. I know, for myself, that if it isn’t easy, I won’t do it. I’m talking like, two or three steps max here. So for me, coloring inside the lines means two things: choosing and acting. Make choices that are in line with what I’m working toward and act in alignment with what I’m working toward. That’s it.

I’m looking forward to my success and I know I’ll achieve it because I can see it. A rude awakening was all it took (well, not “all it took” because that downplays how much of a punch in the face it was) for me to kick it into gear, and that’s just what I have to follow through on. As far as those nice little “next-year” resolutions, I’m going to have to dig a little deeper to uncover one of those really good ones that I can really stick to (“be a bitch” or “be more selfish”). I’m looking forward to another year of awesome personal growth and big leaps though – and that in itself is something to get excited about!!!

New Frontier

Today is just one of those days where I don't feel like myself. I feel unaligned.

I went to the beach with my counterpart yesterday and we were talking about how in life, you are faced with about eight million choices every day. Would you like soy milk or skim in your coffee? Do you want to cook dinner or go out? Do you really want to buy that super cool As Seen on TV potato peeler that you just watched on a 45 minute informercial?? You make decisions that you don't even realize because they are just simple and don't require a ton of thought. These are the unconscious decisions you make because they align with your moral and behavioral fibers. They don't require time or thought; you do it and it's done.

But then there are those times where you do something or make a decision that conflicts with whatever your beliefs are...maybe by accident, sometimes on purpose, or perhaps just because you weren't paying attention. And maybe once in a blue moon, it ends up OK, but I tend to find from my own experiences that more often than not, you end up feeling pretty terrible. It doesn't seem to be what you did in particular, but for me at least it's got more to do with the underneath-issue which would be, why did I do this in the first place? What's going on?

I feel like I've run into some of these symptoms of bad choices lately. I like to think I have a pretty strong moral foundation, that I adhere to what I believe in and live by those standards. I rarely deviate so when I do, it hurts. I have this unwavering personal guilt - when I do something wrong, if I hurt someone or myself, I can't seem to shake it. It probably stems from all that Catholic stuff in my upbringing or my Cancerian nature where I'm super sensitive but I stuff it all inside...but regardless, I feel awful for quite some time.

Like I said, I'm not entirely sure why but it's never really the thing that I do that gets me, but more so the why. Why would I choose to do something that wasn't good for me, or for whomever else was involved? Do we sometimes stray from what we should be doing to feel something else? I think I've been unconsciously seeking something or things in my life that won't come to me instantly but that I just want so bad that I make stupid decisions to try to extract a piece of whatever feeling I'm seeking. And I've found that all this is worthless and can only be a danger to myself. It's like buying a knockoff bag: it's cheaper and it might look just the same as the real deal, but on the inside, the lining is gonna say "Made in Sri Lanka," and you'll always know it's just not real enough.

So whatever these lingering reasons are and wherever they are coming from, I have to just face them. I have to keep in line with my true self - the part of me that is trying to make me better - and stick with it. I guess maybe every once in a while, if you feel yourself start to fall off your own wagon, you have you brush yourself off, but while you're running to catch up and hop back on, make sure that you do a little self-check to see what's really going on. Maybe this will help me avoid getting bruised again when I bounce off the first time.

I want to give myself the benefit of stopping to recollect myself. I can feel terrible all I want, but in reality, it's truly unproductive and will only get me down even more. So now, today, here in my rolly chair at my Ikea desk in my lovely Los Angeles apartment, I'm going to give myself this New Frontier to let go of what I've done wrong, and to move on. I deserve more from me.

Coming Around Again

I have a college education. I'm a successful woman. I'm resourceful. I've written 30 pages of a thesis. I'm excellent at making things happen. So why is it that I'm so unreasonable as far as men go?

How is it that I can lock myself in a library and face a terrifying paper topic with confidence and a sound mind, but I can't call a guy to tell him what I'm thinking without feeling like I'm going to throw up?

I've been reading this book by Tucker Max, called I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, and just recently finished a short story about how Tucker realized he got played. A girl had come over to his house before she went on a date to simply fellate him. Before she went on a date with some poor, unsuspecting fool. Tucker laughs to himself, feels slightly sorry for the dude, but overall revels in his mind about how much better he is than this stupid other guy because he can get what he wants without buying dinner...all before realizing that this exact scenario has most likely happened to him unknowingly. Just like he has played others, he has been played in the same way. This realization brought him off his high horse that is so prevelant in his book of absurd, hilarious and terrifyingly true stories.


I have been played, my friend. Played not in the sense that my date gave someone else head before going out with me, but played as in having someone tell me one thing while doing completely the other thing. I, like Tucker, thought I knew better, thought I could evade these situations because I'm smarter and more intuitive than other people. But let me tell you, no one can beat the house.

Let's back it up and make this statement loud and clear: ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS.

In so many ways and relationships I have realized this recently. I was blown off by good friends on my BIRTHDAY. MY BIRTHDAY!! I got the dance-around. I called everyone out on their bullshit, and they still didn't own up. People really underestimate the power of being straightforward. It's unfair and childish to beat around the bush on ANY situation if you already know you won't follow through. Being straightforward won't eliminate disappointment, but it will certainly eliminate any kind of distrust or pissed-off-ness on behalf of the person you are letting down. So I got blown off on my birthday. Pissed? Yes. But the action of not being honest, not apologizing over the phone (facebook is not a proper outlet for a fucking apology), that tells me that you just are afraid, cowardly and it makes me question your character. I like to think that if I fuck up, I will admit to my wrongs, be sincere in my apology and try to move on with that person because I care about them. Not having that same level of respect returned tells me that you don't value me as a friend. It's as simple as that.

I was violated again yesterday/today. The guy who has been that one that I've compared everyone to, the one I always go back to, the one who I've loved to my core - he showed me his true colors. We had a psuedo-relationship before I moved to CA, with the attitude that we would go our separate ways and keep each other in the back of our minds, and someday reunite. I really believed that we would work out one day. I think I might have even thought we might get married one day. A thought which usually repulses me, I considered for a moment. In the final days before my departure as well as the time I've been here, I've realized the insincerity of this dude. Bringing this full circle, I'd like to reinforce my idea regarding the belief that actions speak louder than words.

This guy says the most ridiculous shit to me. He tells me he would love to move out to California some day. Tells me he loves me. Tells me he misses me. Tells me I'm wonderful and great and blah blah blah. Words, 1, Actions, 0.

This guy wrote me a "love note" of some sort when I left, which I STILL can't figure out what it says (it literally said everything and absolutely nothing at the same time). Words, 2, Actions, 0.

He talks to me at least 4 times a week, but I've only actually gotten 1 phone call since I've left. Words, 3, Actions 0.

He conveniently left out the fact that he hung out with my best friend on the 4th of July on two separate occasions when I asked him how his holiday was. I think he should lose a few points on the "actions" side for this one seeing as this is negative actions. Words, 3, Actions, -100.

He has continued to hang out with my best friend, to which I am certain they have hooked up. Words, 3, Actions, -1200.

As you can see, these patterns of doing and saying do not line up. I have chose to ignore this imbalance for quite some time because I wasn't using any sliver of common sense. I told myself he was "different" (yes, laugh please), told myself he had grown up from the selfish person he used to be (false also) and convinced myself that our connection was greater than anyone I had ever known. The sad part is, I also realize now that I am surely not the only victim of his disgusting charade. Oh, to think you are "special" is so naive.

I'm angry at him, I'm angry at the friend I thought was a good friend. I am most upset with myself with not being more logical. Not using my educated, smart-witted and clever side to sniff this rodent problem out. I am sad I let this get in my mind and take up any time in my life. But lesson learned. I don't mean to sound so militant about this, but you have to use your head sometimes. Following your heart and falling in love is not out of the question, but if you find youself hearing a bunch of hollow promises with no action to back it up, it's ONLY hollow. If a guy loves you, respects you and wants to be with you, he will and you won't typically find yourself asking what he's done to show you that.

p.s. The guy never called me back when I called him to talk about this.

Starting Over

[forgot to publish from 7/11/09]

There are so many things in life that you have total control over.

I just moved to California for no apparent reason except to live. Whenever someone asked me what I was doing after graduation, all I could say was, "moving to LA," to which the common response was, "oh, do you have a job out there?"

Nope.

I drove out here blindly. I came here with an optomistic outlook, a Honda Civic full of my belongings and my best friend. I made the choice to do something I thought would be fantastic. Everything fell into place from there. I have a beautiful apartment, a great roomate and fun every day.

Before I left, I was terrified. One night, I cried to my mom, worried sick over what I was going to do as far as money and a job went. "What am I going to do????" I was so afraid of failing that I wasn't even allowing myself to be present in the moment, and let the future unfold. After driving the 2800 miles it took to my new home, I can finally say that I took control of my life for real, made my own happiness and I couldn't be happier.

One of the most important things my mom said to me to help me see this more clearly was that NO MATTER WHAT, you can't make things happen in any one specific way. You can choose what you want and do it, but as in doing anything else, you won't make it from point A to point B in one linear step. You'll go to point C, than to F, to Z. Such is life. Regardless, something will work out, as long as you keep close what you want with a smile on your face.

I had a point Z moment today. Today, my family changed. My mom made my alcoholic father leave. This breaks my heart. Here I am, 2800 miles from my mom, brother and sister whom I love more than anything and I can't even hug them. Or get a hug, for that fact. My dad is somewhere - who knows where doing who knows what - and all I can do is wonder. I wonder what will happen, I wonder if we'll be okay, I wonder if he'll find help or just fade out. I wonder if he'll live to see 60. This terrifies me. But I know somehow it will be okay. I'm really worried. But what good does that do? This is a scary, blind step in the right direction for my family. A new start, for the right reasons. All we can do is hope.

Things that come and go...

There are many things that come and go in life:

High school, came and went. Memorable moments: sophomore year & my great friend Colleen whom I went through everything with at the time. junior year and meeting my great love. Senior year and making what I thought were "rest of my life" decisions.

College: making it through my first year. Transferring after my freshman year. Making my new life at Rutgers. Meeting more boyfriends, leaving them for a better life. Choosing to do a 5th year and being proud of it. Running the New Jersey Folk Festival which I now live and breathe. Having new great friends by my side.

There were a couple of things and people consistent among the change - family, my state of mind, the ambitions I felt in my heart for so long...

Today I finalized one of those dreams, I signed an apartment in LA with my cousin, Caiti and made the next step. I'm thrilled and so grateful to have followed my dream, my instinct and my heart. Reflecting on where I've come from and where I'm about to go is obviously inevitable.

No matter who you are or where you've come from, it's always the past that's put you there. I'm one of those people who loves retrospect - I mean, how can you not? Thinking about all the paths you've chosen and all the outcomes you've had and what you've learned from all of them...I mean, really, past IS prologue (just ask the statue on the National Archives in D.C. where that famous phrase is inscribed forever) and it's just like one long "choose your own adventure" book!!

I have a younger brother who I wish I could wrap up retrospect and give to. But he'll learn on his own. He's beautiful in himself. He'll prosper no doubt.

This is all generally just a loaded "thank you" to the destiny I have worked so hard to achieve, but I mean it with all my heart and soul. Putting your life together into some comprehensive, something legible to yourself and others (in a far second to yourself) is probably the hardest thing I've ever hard to do, and surely something I'll work to complete forever. I feel like it's so easy to go through the motions of what your supposed to do, but figuring out and following through on what you truly WANT is the most damn difficult thing in the world! I watch so many of the people I know and love settle for a certain future. I'm not one to judge, I just see the gleam in their eyes, and then I see the doubt they cloud themselves with.

I recently was laid off from my part-time job. It's a funny story, actually:

I came into work on a Friday. My great friend Magdalena was in the cube adjacent to me, and I stopped in before setting my things down to say good morning.
"Hey sweetie," she said, "how long will you be here today?"
"For as long as I can stand it," I scoffed and joked.
Within an hour I was having the door of my bosses office shut behind me (which is undoubtedly trouble) being given a speech on how they're cutting hours back and I should "basically find another job to replace this one."
My heart rate jumped with my heart, and after walking out to run to the bathroom to freak out, I stopped myself mid-tear while wondering "what am I going to do," and realized that I hated my job. Why was I so upset? I was working the less-than-stellar office job, sitting on my ass, contributing nothing, and hating every second of it. I was upset because my norm had been disrupted in a complicated time in my life and I was totally thrown off. I didn't cry over the job, I cried over the stress of money and maybe some PMS and that was it. I walked away that day with a little bit of humility and definitely a renewed perspective.

Fast-forward to today. It's my spring break of my senior year of college. I'm in this college town that more resembles a ghost town than anything right now, dog sitting a quasi-crazy dog belonging to my roommate, with no job, nothing to do, and nothing to take my mind off the fact that I have nothing to do. I lamented in the realization that I haven't been productive lately, although my attempts to be so were valiant. And then, in the sheer alignment of the stars, in the good faith of God, whatever it may be, I got a phone call from my fantastic counterpart telling me of an apartment that is available in LA. I've decided to move there to live my dream of living on the West Coast, and for no other reason except for the warm weather and the disgustingly obsessive-almost-sick-with-desire feeling I get when I'm there. And throughout the entire day, I've talked and calculated and faxed and now I have my dream apartment on the outskirts of Beverly Hills in Los Angeles. I'm thrilled and slightly terrified -but I can't wait to live the rest of my life.

I took a chance on what I wanted. I am living my life one step at a time and I couldn't be more grateful for where I've been to get to this very key-slamming moment. I never knew what I wanted in high school. How can you? At 17 you don't know what you want - you know exactly what you DON'T want and that's about it. At 20 I didn't know either. At 22, I'm one step closer to figuring it out, and about 38 steps closer to feeling totally in the moment. But all in all, I would never be to this point if it weren't for the things that came and went.

The boys, the life experiences, the fuck-ups, the joyous occasions, the heartbreaks, the lay-offs, the isolated incidents...every piece has brought me a greater understanding of where I want to be (and I don't mean that literally). If there is one thing I can encourage those I love and those I one day will love and those I don't even know - it's to truly follow your heart through what you've experienced, because REALLY, REALLY - you deserve to crave and follow through on every dream you have.

with all my love, now and retrospectively,
me

Time for Honesty

I called up my favorite counterpart to spill my guts about my crazy 2009 so far today and had a great conversation. Things were cut short by my date to see Bride Wars (SO GOOD!) however we always can get in something profound in any amount of time...

I've had a great and eventful year thus far. I rang in the year low-key (which I was thrilled about because I think New Years is way overrated), then immediately embarked on a vacation to Disney World, marking my first trio to the famed resort and theme park at age 22. It was still amazingly magical at 22 though! I finally got back, came back down from my travelling warm-weather high and took some major revelations away from these past 12 days.

I realized that I'm learning to be honest with myself. In past years, I've tried out some new resolutions - but they're always over-arching ideas like "be more selfish" or "have more fun"...this year I'm coming around again with another general resolution: Be more honest with myself. I'm happy with these past resolutions because the less specific resolutions are, I think the easier they are to make happen! And so being honest with myself is an easy thing to remember, so hopefully I'll stick to it.

For a long time I was back and forth about a relationship that was a huge part of my life. For two years I went back and forth...I have this rule (this may seem irrelevant but I swear it will make sense) when I go shopping. If I don't love it, I don't buy it. If I'm ever on the fence, I just leave it behind. I should have done this a while ago with this relationship. I was often on the fence about it and I didn't love it, so I shouldn't have bought into it. But I learned to be more straightforward, I learned to do what is right for me, and I'm learning to try to be more honest with my feelings instead of wasting time complicating everything with "what to do" issues.

I recently (and by recently, I mean like a few days ago) realized that I've been wanting to move out to California ever since my freshman year of college. I was entranced by the beauty and the weather and the atmosphere (not talking about the smog, lol) there. Here is NJ I use a special lamp for light therapy to avoid Seasonal Affective Disorder. Being in a warmer, sunnier, happier climate is better for me. It's what I want. It's what I've wanted since I had a taste of it. Every time I come back east I want to fly back west (passed out on Xanax though so I don't get that horrible anxiety that comes with turbulance). I love it - so why not buy it?

This is what I want and this is what I'm ready for. I'm tired of looking at things I used to be intimidated by coveting them. I'm going to do it and I'll figure out the rest when I get there. This isn't just talking about a dream, this is life, and ready to be honest with how I feel about actually doing it.

My "thing" in life (everyone has a "thing") is that I have zero regrets. I regret absolutely nothing because everything in life has shaped me into where I am today. And I never want to regret anything in the future because I wasn't honest with myself. Being more honest with myself will only help me see things clearer, sooner.

I'm ready for graduating, I'm ready for the life that I'm gonna tell my kids about and be proud of - I'm ready for life in general. I've had the most colorful past thus far, why settle now?

I love it, and I'm buying it!

xoxo with a big ol' kiss,
Me