The things for which I am thankful

Thankfulness shouldn't be limited to one day in November.  One should give thanks on any given day, every day for that matter.  (Yes, this is going to be one of those cheesy posts.  But you don't have to read this.  It's my catharsis after all.)

Yesterday was moving day.  It was kind of a big deal for me.  First time living somewhere that wasn't a UW dorm or an apartment in the UDistrict.  Auf Wiedersehen college students!  Moving out of a one bedroom apartment and into a two bedroom apartment in a complex complete with pool and FITNESS CENTER!!!  It took a couple of minutes to walk to the gym this morning and it was magical.  Not to mention the complex is comprised of a wide variety of people including seniors and young families.  It's a nice change of pace after being down the street from the frats.

I'm an eighty-year old in the body of a twenty-something.  SO SUE ME.

The second bedroom means that Mama Moose can visit me once I have it furnished.  And let me tell you, it is really taking all my willpower not to spend my entire being looking at home furnishings online.  I'm totally going into nesting mode.

But now onto the more important part.  The part about being thankful.

Perhaps quantitatively I'm not the luckiest girl in the world but I sure do feel like it.  I have this amazing mother who loves and supports me unconditionally, while still making sure that my head doesn't get too big and who picks me up when I've stumbled.

I can feel safe and secure with my steadfast Rudi at my fingertips. He'll be assuming much more responsibility now that I'll commute to work via car.  I'm sure he'll enjoy revving his engine more in the coming months.

But I cannot begin to think how difficult this move would have been if I hadn't had an amazing guy at my side.  Sure I would have done it; there's no doubt about that.  I am an Amazon after all and I'm pretty capable on my own.  I'm not saying I couldn't have done it; I'm saying it would have been a completely different (and much more unpleasant) experience.  As it was, it took 3 car loads before all of the fragile stuff that the movers didn't take was in my new digs.  And my endurance definitely faltered along the way.  Where would I have been if there hadn't been snark to reinvigorate me?  It certainly would have taken me a lot longer to schlepp everything from the car up the stairs to my third story apartment.  And while maintaining a chipper mood?  If I didn't know it before, I certainly know now that he's a keeper.  But I did already know.

I'm living in an apartment in a different city, with boxes and stuff strewn every which way in every single room.  The routines don't exist yet.  The shortcuts haven't been discovered yet.  But it feels like home because of the person who fell asleep next to me last night.  That is my definition of home.  And for that I am thankful.

What am I doing between the hours of 9AM and 5PM?

I'm reaching that point in my young life where it's getting harder to dodge the questions about what I'm going to do with my life.  I've been out of school for more than a year and time hasn't slowed down yet.

I suffer from the delusion that I'm actually really old.  I have no concept of how much time lies ahead of me and as a result any kind of change seems unfeasible.   Which is total bullshit.  But that's how my mind works.

I made a nifty little flow chart (because you know I have time for this) but the jist goes like this:

• stay in the Admin field like I've been doing
• I DO have my foot in the door
• it's boring as F****
• I really don't feel accomplished
• desk = caged animal 

• switch to clinical side of healthcare
• MA, PA, etc
• it would be more dynamic
• it would probably be more satisfying, plus the added benefit of security/stability
• I DON'T have my foot in the door
• more classes/school
• start from square one

• be a personal trainer
• pretty much being paid to workout and yell at people
• yoga pants all day every day
• helping people become fit is very rewarding to me
• BUT I like nice things and stability and I don't know if this job could give me that

Really the only thing that is clear is that I'm not going to be happy if I stay on the path I'm currently on.  That's easy.  What's hard is figuring out where to go instead.

I'll never choose a job over the relationships I've formed with the people in my life; I've never been that way.  And I'm lucky to have a job right now that allows me the luxury to mull over my life without worrying about paying the bills.

Don't mind me, I'll just be mulling things over in the corner.

Happy Valentine's Day Amazons!

Yes I said it.  Happy V-A-L-E-N-T-I-N-E-S Day.  The commercialization of love is upon us!  Don't let it get you down Amazons.  On all the other days in the year, it doesn't matter if you have someone else in your life, so why should it be different on this day? 

Do Amazons let men into their lives so that they'll have a Valentine? Someone to cook them dinner on February 14.  Someone to buy them flowers and give them kisses.  Is that why you're in a relationship now?  For one day out of the year?  I'm not.

I'm not in it for the day when red and pink hearts pop up all around town, smothering passers-by with sickeningly sweet sentiments.  Don't get me wrong; I don't want to be construed as being bitter. I simply don't believe that any of this is healthy; not for people in relationships and definitely not for people who happen to be single on February 14.

If you need a reason to shower your significant other with love, adorations, etc. then perhaps you're with the wrong person.  Because I speak from experience when I say that I've spent a couple of Valentine's Days with a couple of different boyfriends and being together on that day didn't mean much in the grand scheme of things.

Case in point:  One Valentine's Day my boyfriend-at-the-time came over to my apartment and cooked me a lovely dinner.  He brought me red roses and we had chocolate fondue for dessert.  Wonderful evening.  Two months later, he told me that he didn't feel the relationship was going to go the distance (paraphrasing of course). 

Umm...what?  Excuse me.  That's not how this works.  You see, you were romantic on Valentine's Day, therefore we are bound by the laws of chalk-like candy hearts and all things Dove Chocolate to be together forever.  I. WISH.

When I was younger, and more naive, and less like an Amazon, I used this day as a barometer of the success of my life.  Because we're nothing if no one wants to date us, right?  WRONG.  I finally realized that this year.  And it makes me proud that I see my in-relationship friends and don't think "Goddamn I hate you and your lovey-dovey significant other and aren't you two just the cutest fucking things in the world and I want to barf now."  This year, rather, I think "Good for you!" and continue on with my life.  And when I see my single friends I think "Power to you!"

The next time I'm in a relationship when Valentine's Day rolls around, I hope it will be nice.  Maybe he'll cook me dinner (because cooks are hot) and maybe he'll bring me flowers (because I do like flowers).  But I'd want him to cook me dinner on other days too.  And I'll gladly accept flowers on February 15 and March 3 and November 12.  Because I like flowers on any day of the year. '

That is what I want to convey to Amazons everywhere.  Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go eat some more chocolate.

Feelings almost 6 months later

I came to the realization a week or so ago that it had been 5 months since the break up.  The break up that was preceded by a talk months earlier that set the stage for things to come.  In all honesty, that little chat late one Saturday night was far worse than the actual break up.  I saw the split coming; the writing was on the wall.  The talk.  The talk came at me from way out in left field and bludgeoned my heart to smithereens.

So I realized that it had been 5 months since I sat at Greenlake with my all-of-a-sudden-ex where we bawled our eyes out at the sad reality.  And it was really sad.  It was tragic to think that all of the memories had culminated in the heartbreaking realization that it wasn't going to work out.  Heartbreaking for me at least.  I can't speak for the other party.

But when I realized that it had been 5 months, I got this strange feeling inside of me.  Strange, because it didn't make me sad to think about how that was the last time I was in a relationship.  In fact, it filled me with pride that I had triumphed over that heartbreak.  And that I'm doing okay for myself these days.  I mean I think I speak for all of us when I say, I sure do wish I had a hunky man and sprawling mansion and money piled sky high.  That would be nice.  But here I am with what I've got.  And it's okay.

I've learned a bit more about what I want.  Looking back I can see all the things that didn't work for me; I can recognize what I will and won't choose going forward.  And I won't be naive in thinking that I know someone well after just one year.

I've got new hobbies: I like to go to UW soccer games and cheer rambunctiously.  I like to sit in a park with some lunch and enjoy the quiet, while observing the ducks.  I rekindled my love affair with books and it's getting pretty torrid.  I like to hike and feel the burn in my quads as I venture through nature.

And I can feel pretty pathetic sometimes.  That nasty part of the mind always breaks through now and then.  And when it does, I want to throw all these realizations out the window.  I want to drop the bar to ground level just so that I may have someone to keep me company.  And that's when I tell myself: well, aren't you being a little picky?  A little too picky maybe?  You can't have your cake AND eat it too, you know.

But I can.  And I want to.  And I will.  Because eventually that voice is pushed back into the recesses of my skull and I pick up that bar and I place it back at its appropriate level.  And I vow that certain standards have to be met.  Will be met.  This isn't supposed to be easy.  Nothing worthwhile is easy.  And I take comfort in the fact that stick to these standards.  Because the scared girl from California, that first arrived at UW in the fall of 2009, didn't have those standards.  Didn't respect herself enough to say no to the things that weren't perfect, rather she said yes to everything in the hopes that the loneliness would be chased away.

I hate being single.  I hated from the moment I was dumped by my first boyfriend.  It was an awful abyss and I couldn't escape it fast enough.  Each month that passed me by was a biting reminder that I had yet to find someone who liked me.  It was a measure of how utterly unlikable I was.  Because isn't it?  "If you don't have someone, there must be something wrong with you."  That's what I told myself.  And the mistakes that kind of thinking leads to is evidenced by my relationship history.

I still hate being single.  That will never change.  But what has changed is how I perceive the passing of time.  I almost see it as a badge to display proudly.  "Look at me world!  Look at these standards that I have!  Look at that bar that shall not be lowered.  I will not settle for anything less than my Prince Charming riding up on a dapple grey Percheron to sweep me off my feet and carry me back to our estate in Bavaria!"  Too much? Well you get the idea.  So when the beginning of February rolls around, I can look at my calendar with satisfaction that it's been 6 months and the bar is still in place.

A happier New Year?

I suppose it's best that it happened this way.  Because now I truly will have a fresh start on January 1.  But that doesn't help that fact that I'm sick to my stomach.  Sick to my stomach because I feel tricked and I feel like a fool.

Back story: Girl meets guy.  They go out to dinner.  It's fun.  They go out again. It's also fun.  Communication ensues.  Girl is hopeful.  A little time passes and then guy is suddenly in relationship with someone else.  End of that story.

Despite my coworkers' advice that I not dwell on this, I cannot help it.  I feel so many things and none of them good.

I feel angry.  I was led on and lied to.  I was honest and I got deception.

I feel sad.  I was hopeful that this could be someone I could get close to in the future but instead I'm disappointed. And I'm hurt that I couldn't garner the truth from another human being.

The most painful thing of all is that I'm seeing a serious trend among the male population that I pursue. They like me.  But they don't want to date me.  Which is ironic because I don't exactly seek the approval of the masses.  I'm really just looking for someone to be my other half.

So I'm left wondering what it is about me that makes history repeat itself.  What am I missing that should be a warning flag?  What is it about me that draws this to me like a moth to a flame?

I know enough to be certain that this will pass and that what I'm feeling is just as much anger as it is pain.  Because I know deep down that I didn't deserve this; that's what pisses me off the most.

I don't have much desire to stay up late and watch the Ball drop tonight.  It was fun back home with my mom.  It was okay counting down last year as we celebrated in Cap Hill.  This year?  I feel inclined to sleep it away.

Wishing I could run back home to San Diego.

Getting comfortable with reality

The time since my last post has witnessed a lot of change.  Good and...not so good.

• I received a full-time job in the office where I had previously been working part-time.  I'm now a contributing member of society and I've been able to cast aside some of my woes. (Keyword: some, because what's life without a little drama?)

• I bought my first car.  His name is Rudi and he's a silver VW Jetta (aka baby Audi).  He's my main man and I love speeding down the freeway with him.

• I'm once again an Amazon on the prowl.  This is a very mixed bag.

It's been an interesting transition from spring to summer to fall.  People in the know ask how I'm doing, which in itself is an interesting question-

When you ask someone "How are you?" what do you expect to hear?  "I'm good, thanks" or "Well, I've been better."  Do people ask with sincerity or just formality?  I know that I myself am guilty of this.  It's such an automatic exchange of pleasantries that even if I'm feeling down I don't think I'd unleash my melancholia on someone.  This is a sad commentary on society if it's the norm these days.  I want people to tell me if they're having a bad day; let me try and take your mind off things for a brief moment or two.  Oppositely, I'd like to know that someone sincerely wants to know how I'm doing rather than giving me an opportunity to practice my stoicism.

Given this, I try and temper the honesty.  I don't always flash a bright smile and say that everything is dandelions and sunshine.  I'll confess to stumbling a few times.  I'm also guilty of taking a less than desirable situation and turning it into something far worse than the reality at hand.

When I'm reminded of the generous people who surround me, it gets a little brighter.  I believe that's the key.  It's a constant struggle but this was never guaranteed to be easy.  That's what makes Amazons so awesome anyways, right?  Our ability to overcome.


bis bald

Curveball Ahead

Not this most recent weekend, but the weekend before I was blindsided by some news that I was NOT expecting.  And while the immediate shock numbed a lot of it, and it's taken me awhile to process the information, reality is starting to set in and my world has surely been rocked.

The specific details aren't important because anyone can relate to what it feels like to take a curveball head-on and walk away hurting.  Sufficed to say, one of my biggest fears could be coming true again and it's left me feeling vulnerable and weak and inadequate.


And I hate that feeling.


I hate feeling as though I'm crumbling from within.  The gym can only take me so far and then I must rely on my own inner strength to carry me the rest of the journey.  The dread comes not from fearing that this will persist forever, but instead that I don't know how long it will endure.

My Amazon sister gave me some wonderful advice (in poetry form, no less!) today as we were lamenting these latest woes.  I'm happy to say that it lifted my spirits, even if only momentarily, and I was reminded of the incredible strength that we can derive from our closest friends.

Hopefully each and every one of us have at least one or two of these remarkable people in our lives and I can't stress enough how important it is to keep them close.  I rarely cry in front of people (chalk it up to my ego) but I know I can let my guard down with this select few.

Additionally I have learned that there is nothing wrong with admitting pain.  It's taken me a long time to get to this point but I can (somewhat) comfortably admit that "I'm not in a good place" if that's how I happen to be feeling.

I hope this provides you with a small bit of comfort if/when you deal with your own curveball.  By nature we cannot predict them and therefore they usually strike harder than we'd like.  So accept that you've been hit.  Let the sting sink in and spread until your eyes well up with tears.  And then let someone give you a hand back up onto your feet.


I'm not out of the woods yet, perhaps I've only just begun the journey through, but I'll find my way again.


In the meantime, I have to learn how to "take care of me."  I have no idea what that means but everyone keeps telling me to do so.  More to come...