Practicing a little vocabulary expansion, one cock at a time

What is it about writer’s blocks that can get us down? Is it because we have so much going on in our day-to-day activities? Maybe I’d rather sit on the couch watching New Girl or the ladies from the OC than actually make my brain function by creating properly formed sentences. Whatever it is, it’s a serious force to be reckoned with.

This fiery beast weaseled its way into my creative mind and curdled all thoughts for months, it wouldn’t hurt that there was a whole lot going on, but even so works got put on hold.

Could there be a better way to get out of this little ‘hurdle’ than to push the limits on something. A while back I wrote a short story for a very near and dear friend of mine. That story that was originally only meant to be seen by few has been seen by many. It’s currently getting published in an arena I never thought it would, but it is. It cracked the door of possibility, for a genre that was I was never really concerned about venturing in before as a writer.

Like a girl who broke the seal after the first drink at a bar, that bitch got broken fast.

To knock out this little writer’s block I dusted off the laptop--forgot it in the back of my car on numerous occasions, and started outlining. The first story for my friend was carefully constructed and thought out to fit her perfectly. But I have my own fantasy too dammit! A phrase that was repressed during this little block; writing lost its edge and after an anonymous email from a reader that was filled with encouragement, thanks and of course the endless request for more. It was never intended to write anything more for that series, only because it was a gift for a friend. If anything I could write a fresh stand-alone story. The guilty conscience kicked in. I started writing a follow-up story. This one surely could break through the writer’s block.

For an entire weekend, I holed myself up and re-mapped an outline. I am one of those annoying writers who makes an outline for everything. Even for a grocery list. Creates characters and outlines their lives, the city, the sub-plot…it’s repetitious but it’s how I work to keep a constant flow that is somewhat seamless and real.

By the end of the weekend the outline was completed as well as fifty pages already in the bag. It was strange and like an out of body experience, my hands were possessed and a plot came together. For the following week, work was secondary until I finished that story. It seemed all too important, much too necessary. By that Friday I sent an email to my editor and gave him the heads up. A new story was coming, get ready. Sunday rolled around and as the edits went out, I sighed with relief just before cracking the bottle of prosecco open. The writer’s block was officially kicked to the curb. The first draft of a novel I started was half-way written and could get picked up for an early summer push date should it get through editing on time. It could happen. Confidence fully restored….

Until the edits came back for the short. After reading through the first sections, I agreed with the changes and made the necessary revisions. When I got to a chapter where the two leads come together and get it on … ooh … there was a misstep. They were so not gettin’ it on. Reading through the edits and my own writing, I sat back from the computer and laughed so hard until I cried.

Placing her palm against his neck, Hadley looked into Marcus’ eyes as he started to lose control. It was When he his cock hit her hard, did they fluttered shut. Wailing out to him, “Marcus!”., she came so hard she nearly fainted.

My poor, poor editor for this short. He is used and abused but knows I love him so. There was a dirty, nasty little coupling of words. One of them, I love more than the F word itself, but cannot ever write it in professional works. It’s like saying ‘bitch’ aloud or outside of a bedroom. It.Will.Never.Happen. Never say never, it really can (and does) happen but not in that context. I immediately emailed him, and what did I get in return: ‘I could tell you were laboring….”

Yikes! Laboring is right…so you push ‘cock’ into my vocabulary to stir up the pot? Go figure, because it worked. Somewhere in that laughing haze and going over the first draft, something inside snapped. So I re-read, re-grouped and re-sexed that story the hell back into shape. It’s completed and getting published chapter by chapter. The editor … approves. Halle-fucking-lujah. Something learned from all of this was even during a dry spell or a ‘writer’s block’, getting back into the full swing of things takes time. You can’t rush yourself, otherwise you appear rushed and frenzied.

My writing, is none of the above. It’s skilled and planned. This story, and God love him--my Editor, reminded me that I may move or type fast, but writing and actual stories take time to mature.

So it’s back to San Antonio we go. I’m over this writer’s block and fully set to finish the ‘Summons’ novel, and get it out the door. I have been talking to more than enough people, so the support is there to get it off of the ground and up and running. Who knew that in order to break through this annoying hurdle, was an itsy bitsy word that is no stranger from my mouth. All it took was a little cock.

Scorned much

Never one am I to sit and bawl my eyes out for an extended amount of time. Given the specific occasion and amount of Xanax, it’s all under control… I cry, mull whatever needs to be mulled over and move on for bigger and better things. The talk of men is a constant topic of conversation because I am single and mingle more than I care to admit. Dating is a natural part of my life right now. It may get run to the ground or laughed to high hell in conversations, but the stories of so many jackass (s) guys are others’ way of living through my embarrassment. Or laughter … we don’t have to put it down too harshly today!

As much as we want to not open up about things in fear of a jinx, it happened; I started talking with someone. We had been talking for a while as friends and right in the middle of phone calls and ongoing text messages, a little bit of warmth cradled my icy heart. Not so much icy, but more of a detoxed and oh-so-chilled heart indeed. With the way things were progressing with this person, it was easy to get ahead of myself. I mean, for someone who is calling you on Christmas, throughout your day, calling at an ungodly hour because they feel like hell and just want to hear you talk. How could you not?

I got ahead of myself. A phrase in the back of my mind that always stays there regardless of the optimism, ‘He’s just not that into you’ was silenced with this one. Despite his annoying antics of going missing for a few days, a week or whatever without a peep. Excuses flew out of my mouth with those absences, defending his time as busy. I got ahead of myself big-time. This guy had gone on the typical ‘hectic week, so you won’t hear from me’ lapses. I called, nothing. Text; again with the no responses. It seemed odd because before he would pick up quickly, but something wasn’t right for those attempts. When I saw a random picture and posting on Facebook, I knew that he was at least alive so I decided enough was enough. I’d give the guy a month, a month of me doing absolutely nothing to reach out to him in order to know where I stood and then delete him from everything if I didn’t hear a sound. Maybelline says I’m worth it, so it must be true.

A few drinks later and a surge of liquid confidence fueling me, I cracked a few weeks in, calling him and got nowhere yet again. Pushing aside that I can typically take the hint of when to let go, but with him it was different—or so I thought. Finally after coming to grips that this was all for nothing and a waste of time, I deleted every form of contact with him, bawled my eyes out and sent a final text before removing his phone number for good. We all need some kind of closure, I mean, I may have gotten ahead of myself yes; with him it was easy to do. It wasn’t some pining and crazy message, but more of a simple way to saying goodbye. It’s the girl in me and the good soul who hates doing wrong by someone even if I didn’t do anything at all.

Come to find out that on the day of romance, Valentine’s Day of all days … I was duped. Played by the master manipulator.

That guy, had been talking to multiple ladies—and I was one of them. Some unknown devil prodded me, and I can’t believe I’m admitting to looking at his profile, but I did. Shameful, I know—it was not my finest hour. As it turns out, another scorned lady pulled a Glenn Close on him and posted something that resonated deep. The same words I considered saying in a cryptic text, but am far too nice to say aloud. Surprise, surprise right? Deep down another bad boy that tried to appear as one of the good ones. Oddly, I’m not even bothered. What goes around comes around ten-fold. I know and believe this with every ounce of my body. He was another unwanted pick in the litter and is going straight to the trash. And that is okay.

So then where does this take me? Back to the drawing board, and on to the prospect of meeting someone new. It’s a highly laughable situation, and God only knows why I keep putting myself through some of these dating triangles, but with utmost certainty—this guy completely pulled me in and I, like many, fell for the kill. Despite all of the bullshit whether it be good or insane we go through with the excitement, the lust and definitely the heartache… it’s still a battlefield to tread lightly over until you’ve found a good and very safe ground. Tired of meddling, but still living each day with a take no prisoners mentality … this was merely one more experience to take in. One more guy to avoid. So until the next one rolls around, I’m dabbing on the glittery eye shadow and keeping on … keeping on.

Love is a battlefield, I certainly guess so. Thanks Pat Benatar for reminding me!

A splash of ass and bit of sass

With spring right around the corner, you can almost smell it in the air. That shift in pressure, the soil softening…the trees budding for new growth. To say that fall and winter were dull, would be an understatement. There have been get togethers, wine nights, shopping excursions, dates and detoxes, trips to unknown cities and a little bit of writing in between. That time fell together into a slight blur, but a miniature and very powerful message behind everything got forgotten.

A little bit of sass and a fresh dab of lip gloss needed to be taken out on the town. In more ways than one. No, that’s not just in terms of men. I’d like to think that, at this point, I’m living a free life and whatever happens--happens. Not just men at all. Hibernation mode fully kicked in this year; something that generally creeps up and finds a wonderful perch somewhere from October through January. Rather than ice skating around a park in the city, I sat bar-side sipping martinis with friends in town. Shopping in the city for flowers was turned to a local merchant around the corner from work. The all too familiar outgoing and go-to mentality was lessened and quieted.

Admitting this need to get out and blame only being cooped up would be a false statement. After trying to get over someone, we all do this. Vent to our friends, delete every message and every number. Cry our eyes out, avoid food because it took too much effort to eat, and then go out. We take an extra hour to get ready, blasting club hits while drinking bubbly champagne. Slap on the all too high heels that make us wobble, but make our legs look damn good. We go out, to get out. To get out and get back to feeling like our confident selves. Or maybe that’s just me.

Several friends were away for a weekend, or busy with their families. I figured, there was a rut and I needed to get out of it. So I dipped into the closet and looked at the oh-so-typical dresses to wear, and stumbled on something I forgot was even hanging in the sea of fabric. A knitted dress that had been purchased to wear--if and when I needed a splash of sass. Always thinking proactively.

That night called for more than a splash of sass; it required a wealthy vodka drink and a whole lot of tanned skin to get the job done. A job that is highly laughable now, but was needed to snap a smile in place and bring the ever present laugh back into my throat.

What started at one bar and a simple drink, turned into a full night out of networking and letting loose. At the first bar, a bartender and I talked about his girlfriend and my manly woes. Out of nowhere, or maybe it was the liquid haze, I bit the bullet and went to another place and that’s when it all happened. Put me next to someone, we will talk. It’s a given. Every wallflower must sing at some point in their lifetime. Fortunately, I am not a wallflower and just sing. In this case, talk to a group of people who are within a given industry that I am pursuing.

Random happening or magnetic pull? Nobody will ever know, nor do I want to analyze it. Turned out that one of the many groups I ended up talking with, in between sipping sparkling champagne, was indeed part of a marketing firm. For a local magazine. I had been sitting at the bar and overheard publishing and honed in. Awful, terrible; but in all seriousness who does not eaves drop? I turned and introduced myself casually, not mentioning anything about writing. I was merely someone meeting a group at a bar. After an hour of talking, we ended up chatting about writing, publishing, marketing; the works. By bar close, one of the men I had been talking to walked me out to my car several blocks away. He was sweet and nice, it was late.

As I drove home and the next morning, and even now I still shake my head at things. All it took was a snappy dress and a shift in my mind to get back to me and where does that lead? To writing. Here I thought that night was going to be a confidence booster over fully letting go of a guy, but it was so much more than that. It was a confidence booster in following exactly what everyone including a psychic has been saying for months and I have been shying away for unknown reasons.

We can run and hide from things for a short while, but in the end—everything always comes back to us. For this, it took an unexpected night out to restore that missed feeling. So with that, I am working on getting back into the swing of this blog that is way out of touch. It is a place where I can free-write the whatever (s) of a day or week. I’m wrapping a short story for a website and finalizing a publishing deal that isn’t much, but it is something.

I have started writing and publishing on the ups and downs of relationships, the single life of a thirty-something. God knows I’ve experienced enough of this, but will keep experiencing it because it’s life. Who knew all it took was stepping out and flashing a little ass to admit things are okay where they are and go with it. Documenting it all along the way.

So it's another round, only this one should be leading in a fun direction; and to that I say...I am ready, are you?

Cheers

There are times when all it takes is faith

With all of the commotion in the greater United States and mostly within the National Football League about faith, the subject matter is bound to creep up into your mind. Consider the formalities and the justifications of all of the actions that we as people go through. Not normally am I one to sit down with a cup of coffee and begin a conversation regarding politics or religion. This is a topic that has been quite absent for this space and for the most part I would like to keep it that way. It’s not that I do not pay close attention to politics, but there is a time and a place; and this is not that place.

However, there are grey areas to every single situation. Every argument, every celebration. Many choose to rant about having an open and optimistic view on faith; while others curse it and say that it is entirely just a fad for close attention. When I think about the latter, it only makes me wonder about what is going on with that individual to say such a comment.

Having faith is something that lies within every single person. Whether you like it or not, there is an ounce or a pound of it somewhere in the depth of your being. In times of dire need or desperation, many people close their eyes and wish for something great and wonderful to help them out. They have faith in the form of a positive outlook that something is coming their way. That something could come their way if they were susceptible.

I was talking with a friend the other day and she was so hopeful about an instance in her life, once someone else posed a statement questioning her belief; her confidence dissipated. It was as if the light faded and her hopes and excitement washed away in the chilled river rush. Almost carrying her wants and desire out to sea. My heart went out to her because we have all had those moments where we lose sight of that ‘faith,’ so to speak in those times.

Not only thinking about her, but it brought that natural urge deep down in my own body to keep the faith about many things that are potentially breaking through. Despite the raging economy, and the fact that I am constantly frustrated over work that is underrated—it is merely a small piece to the puzzle in the grander scale of life. If keeping the faith about the hopes and wants gives us a little gratification or independent support that we need to get by, where is the harm?

There is no harm, and that is the whole point. By showing your allegiance, it proves that you believe that you can achieve something. You can achieve whatever it is you are seeking in that moment or day, week, year, etc. All because you know deep down, by believing in yourself and the people around you—there will always be a sort of reward. Whether it be in the form of a thank you or a new house, that falls into what it is you are thinking about. There is no category to directly link each label into.

While this all started out with more never ending ramblings that are a constant within me, it’s really just about keeping the faith that I will eventually get out of this hell hole that I am currently stuck in. Which, sooner rather than later would be much appreciated. But in all seriousness, I am keeping true to my own inner beliefs and staying positive to what good can come of this day. A phone call from the planetarium in the city possibly? An email from an agent in regards to a potential contract? Or maybe, just maybe another gorgeous snowfall that reminds me to appreciate every single morning-day-and night.

Only time will tell. Even so, between now and forever, I choose to still keep the faith.

The break-up plan

With resolutions flying out of everyone’s mouth like the F word, it is almost inevitable to make a few changes. Why not start at the start of a calendar year and work your way onward. Day by day. Month by month. Or let’s face it, hour by hour.

Because honestly, if someone said give up text messaging--that alone would be on an hourly timeframe. Sadly I’ve hit that point where the phone is somewhat connected and calendars are filling. It’s a busy time.

Instead of creating these crazy lists about having to lose such and such amount of poundage and strut this body like Giselle. Or better yet, aim to save one million pennies for a down payment—or installment on property taxes. Pushing the holiday bulge and the budget aside, I’m mixing it up a bit this year.

A resolution (s) in the form of a break-up plan.

It’s easy. Painless. Completely guilt free. Hopefully.

We all have good habits and also bad habits that we tend to mull over more. This isn’t about mulling, or swearing to do something and letting it all fall to the backburner because the rebel in us says forget about it.

Resolutions tend to bug me in general because it strikes a red flag that somewhere in my mind gets short circuited and rather than saying, ‘Okay, we aren’t going to do that right?’ It’s says, ‘Forget that, that promise is moot-pass the wine.’

But I must digress that statement because that is just me. Some people are great with resolutions and that is fabulous.

For right now, because it’s not really a resolution it’s just a statement….I am breaking up with a few things because it needs to happen. It’s for a better day, a happier person. Or maybe it’s out of boredom because the morning is quiet and the sun is keeping me cheery. In any case, er goes.

DIET COKE – you are a bastard and god only knows how you have made it into my diet over the past few weeks. The sugary duds are bidding farewell.

JEANS – This is debatable. As much as I don’t wear you unless it’s a day for loafing, it’s time to keep to the leggings and dresses.

SNACKY TREATS – It’s about to get orange in here. Carrots are getting back on the plan. Cookies you are OUT.

WORK – I’m breaking up with YOU…as soon as a certain group has an offer--which is in the forecast.

BLACKBERRY – iphone or bust.

INNER-NOMAD – Building roots is far more important than moving on the fly. Please brain stop sending mixed visions of Manhattan and Toronto. Thanks much.

DRUNKEN CALL/TEXTS – I seriously doubt he thinks they are fun. Interesting, but not fun at 3am. And why do I answer them when they come my way? Either way—they are out.

….leaving the biggest for last

GIRLY BEHAVIOR [aka self-doubt] – This is being pitched on so many different levels. I am breaking up with eyeing of the telephone waiting for that message to come through. Texting him when he should be the one texting me. Forget that, I wouldn’t do that with a friend so I’m breaking up with that on edge feeling. He will call, as if we didn’t already know that. It's the behavior that I loathe most and cannot believe it has taken up shop in the recesses of my mind. But, as I am a woman--it was bound to happen at some point.

And so that is where it all lays out for now. A master plan that isn’t really a plan at all. It’s merely a statement of letting go. Letting go of a carbolicious drink that seriously needed the boot in the first place to set a reminder in my planner for messaging someone for getting the ball rolling with that job. Simple, silly little things that creep up and we don’t realize are a part of our daily routines. For now, it’s time to get on that detour curbing any inclinations to fall back to these habits and get on with it.

As I sit in jeans and riding boots. Hmm, fashion forward.

Cheers to a new year!

I’m sexy and I know it…or at least with heels and lipstick I can be

It’s October, and the detox is officially over with a capital O. For the past several weeks I have been going back in forth between spending more time away from my house and out with friends or just clearing the mind and trying not to sulk. Or to be completely frank--wasting the night away sipping one too many cocktails and forgetting my own personality. Because it was about regrouping and finding something out of your comfort zone (s). And that personality, is me, but she was hurting and needed to get drunk and scream. And eat lots of gelato that is now making crunches so much fun.

It’s over, and god only knows I never thought these words would ever come out of my mouth. EVER. Everything is good, every day is filled and that is a sweet deal. Granted, this little period of getting back to ‘who you are’ felt like a refresher course for Calculus 405 in college, but still. It was needed for everything to be washed out of my confused mind. Which is the always present and never now ending theme.

And yet, here it is. The simple truths that are blinded behind everything and everyone around. They’re over, forgotten and forgiven.

Maybe it’s the fresh color on the hair, the tanned skin, or the red stilettos that seem to be attached to me right now because they scream ‘outrageousness is here.’ Whatever it is, it’s fully embraced and it’s about god damned time.

…or it could possibly be the writing that is amping everything up and building the excitement about potential freelancing. About penning someone else’s story which makes me not think and allows me to just go with the flow each and every single day. The chance of being able to quit a job that I do not enjoy and do something that feels right in my bones and makes my skin sing. I’m leaning toward the writing setting everything on fire. There’s no shame.

The other morning I went out for the day. Put on a cute dress, slapped on the purple heels and just went with it. Every day for the past few months, I’d been eyeing that dress, rolling my eyes at the shoes wondering why in the world it had not been worn in ages. Funk be bygones.

It’s understandable, and it happens. And you know what, you have to get over it. If you sit around and mope about it, time is still getting wasted and a chance at god only knows what could be slipping off in the distance. That dress was like a fire alarm going off inside of my head. This woman, she had partially joined the witness protection program. Though, not really because I’m not socially inverted and actually do go out, but things had been slipping off of the radar that are as much a part of me, as well anything else.

It was time. Time to clean out the wardrobe of clothes that hid a body that needed to shape up just a tad, dye the locks but steer from an emo-clad color and go with something a little on the sultry side. To wear the purple heels.

I feel like it’s been a serious complex of personal issues lately, and it has been because of reasons that will go unannounced on this forum. That’s for Dr. Drew to address and I’m still waiting for an available appointment. It is very hard to see all of the people around you and not judge yourself for your 'shortcomings' or acknowledging your accomplishments. Even so, breathing is easier today. It’s better than it was a year ago. It’s definitely easier than sixty five days ago and because of it, my heart is bigger and I’m saying adios to certain thoughts. Expectations that had quietly become my own. I’m saying goodbye to the lost hours and shouting a big hello to all of the time that lay in front.

So this is my last post on dating. On feeling down and out because honestly, a Kleenex and crappy made for TV movies can help this one. Crying with a box of sour patch kids in my lap and a crystal light stain on my lips. And taking a peripheral vision and turning it into tunnel vision and forgetting about the world that exists all around. A world that I am part of and am no longer missing out on.

Amen, to that.

How I met your husband….

I am in a dating detox. For another forty five days I am getting back to the basics by listening and taking action in contrast to my heart. From one Romeo to the next, it has been a tumultuous ride over the course of almost ten months. And in that amount of time—it has become a period to shun your eyes, drink a bottle of wine and take a long hot bath. Or laugh and thank god you are living a life different from this.

I met a man, this man was outrageously funny and enthusiastic. He was cute, but also only available at certain times that always seemed to be the same. Strike the Red Flag immediately. It turned out, and I found out almost two months in of talking and going out, that he was married. We were ‘flinging.’

As in fully married, probably father of year and oh so very attached.

How does this happen?

One would think this was the Maury Povich year up in my neck of the woods, but honest to god I did not expect him to be, let alone think I could ever partake in such a predicament.

Well I did, and it happened. It was an affair and so because of that, I am in a dating detox.

At first I was only going to take thirty days to clear my mind, body and soul but realized that this one—like a shot of Jack Daniels, burned all of the way down. I still hurt from the betrayal of someone I was beginning to like, and so for that I decided on taking a full sixty days to recoup. To relax and get my groove back.

Of course, this is when I start to pay extra close attention to what has been lacking over the past few months. From workouts to dressing up I have been taking it way too easy lately, because I was excited that for a change someone was thinking about me. Calling to check in and see how my day was, coming over. I felt attached, how silly and obtuse as that notion may be now, considering the fact that the guy was already attached--but that is all changing. I’ve been re-reading books to gain lost confidence, meditating in order to clear the clutter in my mind and working out to sweat off the softer parts of my body that could be trimmed down.

What is it about the dating process that is so difficult to some, and so easy for others. I have covered this topic one too many times over, but it seems to be reoccurring which makes me believe the problem lies within me. Am I trying too hard in capturing this one guy out there? Have I romanticized too much, or is it really possible?

It’s possible, so I’m taking the time to kick back and find the beauty deep down my single woman’s body. I was talking to multiple friends over the past several days who all keep quiet but say the words that they think I want to hear. Words that I don’t want to hear because it’s repetitive and I’m simply tired of hearing them one day after the next.

For the next forty five days, it’s my turn to be a selfish bitch. To shop when I want to shop. Read Cosmo or Jane Austen, whatever my brain is craving.To detox my body and kick the angst out through kickboxing and circuit training. To drink all the coffee I want and slink away into the city for as many hours of my liking for whatever reason. To plan unnecessary trips just to get away, because I can.

In the first set of the detox, I cleaned up my telephone, email and threw out little notes that had been left behind. I re-started saying three things I am most thankful for at the end of each day, and also envisioned ways of changing a day around in my mind had anything gone differently as expected. A workout regime was re-activated and a health plan was put back into place. The next stage is inner and outer beauty-for this I’m working on the entire forty five days on. From my approach to people and personal demeanor to changing up a wardrobe and sprucing up to accent not only my body but my personality. Enter new dresses and platform heels, flip flops to the back.

The detox is about reclaiming what we lose, when we are in that search for the Prince Charming (s) of the world. That endless and silly search. But no more, this time I am serious about it taking the time and letting go. I’m not saying the search is over for a lifetime but for now, it’s not about a search but about connecting with myself on a higher level and letting all of the other business move to the side.

One down, how many more to go

One year ago today, everything changed. From the land I had grown to know to the people I had grown up with.

One year ago, I made the journey of a lifetime and since that day everything has changed--ten fold.

It almost seems fitting that this time last year I was in Seattle for a very near and dear friend’s wedding. I had just sent all of my belongings off with a mover in San Francisco that could not speak a word of English and flown up to Seattle for a whirlwind weekend. Only to fly back on the only delayed flight and race like made to pack up my car and start the journey east.

Yes, it does seem fitting that this past week I had traveled back to Seattle to see that same friend who had gotten married, now fully pregnant and ready to give birth any day. It did seem fitting to tie up hardened ends with my family and try to put shattered pieces and bruised emotions back together.

This year has been the most challenging I have ever experienced. From moving so far out of my comfort zone, into an area where nobody is around where you can crash on a couch and cry your eyes out over the fact that the job market was still falling. Over the fact that you can’t figure out where a relationship went wrong, or just to pass out from debauchery activities.

While sitting on a creaky wooden bench out along the chilly Canadian waters of the Pacific, I sipped wine and finally took it all in. How these spontaneous moments hit us, still shocks me, but for this understanding it hit as the sun set and the pier lights went on.

This year has been a mean, gnarly, nasty bitch but I wouldn’t have had it either way. When I walked along the sidewalk leading up to Pike Place to get flowers-to then sitting and looking out at the mountains, I realized that life and each day happens regardless of our breakdowns.

Regardless of whether we go out on a Friday night.

Regardless of the fact that you hit the gym and are looking svelte or not.

Regardless of whether you decide to get out of bed to experience the day or not. It is up to you.

The year has taught me in more ways than one, that despite anything you can conquer any given situation. The choice is really yours, and that choice takes action.

This year, I have moved to an area where I knew nobody and now a year later it’s safe to say that I have a family close by. I have been taken in, invited into a whole new area of experiences that had I stayed in bed—would never have gone through with.

Like go to New York on a whim for a weekend. Walk a runway and let a friend dye my platinum blonde locks deep brown, decide to publish a ‘naughty’ story—and turn that idea into a full on career, watch friends grow in ‘reality’ fashion and get a full design perspective of material artwork, make friends that are strictly positive and give back just as much as they take.

I may have hit rock bottom, and it’s been a bitch to claw my way back up, but that’s the main point. Moving up, moving forward. Every day has brought some kind of crazy revelation, that more and more people keep laughing at me because I’m starting to sound like a broken record…but still—they know. I know.

Over the week, a friend had asked. ‘I wonder what it would be like if you stayed in San Francisco?’ I can’t answer that question, because I’ve come so far into just the right element that it would be hindering the step forward.

I don’t know where I would be, but I can guarantee that I sure as hell wouldn’t be living in a foggy apartment, listening to the constant screams of my neighbors above, let alone the planes that flew to SFO every five minutes from the North.

I do also know, that I wouldn’t be me. Right now, today. While waiting to meeting up with this good friend, I was in a bookstore and for some reason I was directed to this one book. It was strange, but I didn’t fight the guide. I walked over and in an hour I finished this book, I related to every part of it. Every thought, every action, every shift in emotion moves us. Of course it was a self improvement book, because lord knows when you’re flying back to see your new nephew and meet up with a pregnant friend….you’re going to get broody and wonder. What the hell happened with me?

The book resonated in every word, life happened with me. A different type of life that may not work for the person next to me, for the person standing across the hallway, but it has come together for me. Sure there are hard times, but those hard times have crafted a better understanding, created another opening and opportunity for something different.

This is a good place to be. This is where I am successful right now, in happiness, in relationships, in life. It’s just right-who knew all that would happen in a year.

Where is this now?

As the cool fall winds tease the evening air, it makes stop and think about where the time has gone over the past several months. Where I have been, and what all has been keeping the days full of events or empty with the sun.

Hours of work in an office that behooves me in every form, outings with friends that has comforted and protected-even if it comes in the form of SPF for them and baby oil for me, dates of misfortune that makes me understand the reality of wants and needs. I am pushing something that may not be. All of this is simply filling time, stealing it and gesturing for more. Whether it be for laughter, love and wholeness.

I have noticed that my time during the week is shortened and I’ve become void to ideas and hopes. Through the work comes a stress, which leads and fuels the fire to staying true and persistent for what I want to do. Sitting behind a desk taking orders, being a job lackey feels more degrading than working a fast food lane. At least there, someone is grateful rather than unappreciative and demanding. What is so fundamentally a part of my life, is calling in different tones. It reminds me to never lose focus and to keep trying to get it just right, to find a way of being stable in your niche. Your claim to economic happiness. Money is money, and it is crucial-but to remain true to me, my heart and soul-I’m willing to make a sacrifice. But what is it? Or do I already know.

The people that have become the closest, see and read through me. They know where I want to go and push me to make those futile steps further into the right direction. Even if my mind is forgetful, they are not. With family it is entirely different. There is always a judgment against actions, a prejudice against you. Not with these friends that are my family, there is no rudeness or cold behavior-only encouragement. And for that I've latched on and have been soaking it up building a confidence to step out of the typical norm, step away from what is expected-to do what is just right within. To follow dreams and make them into a reality, even if it means saying ‘fuck it’ to everything else.

Forcing something that may not be is a realization that is now acceptance. I do not want to go further alone in this life without the deep rumble of someone next to me, to feel that warmth curled into the sheets. To be a couple. This is the hardest part. For months I've been going back and forth, playing games that I am way too old to be playing, trying on new men for size and its emotionally draining. I know it’s part of the process by I am beat, and with that beaten. By the end, I'm left bereft, tired and don't want to give up the fight for hopeless and endless love-but the light is extinguished for now. I love the independence that I have, but want to be dependent of someone for a change. I'm hurt--but not broken, sad--but still happy. It is only a roadblock and will come into my life when the timing is right, or so I'm told. I am staying positive but am no longer searching, because it’s in the search that I lose sight of who this woman is. I lose sight of what is all around me.

For days I thought the quiet would be soothing, but it was in the chaos, the rubble of laughter that I am listening to, that I am relaxed. It makes it clear that when I'm trying to achieve certain things, I'm focused and the chaos is still. I am missing pieces, missing other things that may be passing by. For a change, I'm reverting and doing something so out of character. I'm not caring anymore. Letting go of the wishes, the prayers, the 'let me please' thoughts. To just go in the direction of those winds.

For right now, I just want to be. Be, wherever this draft is taking me, be happy for the people around, be available and optimistic for tomorrow.

When a little bit goes a long way

How is it that something that could mean absolutely nothing to the person next to you, mean the world to you.

Is it a frame of mind that we live in, that allows us to see that everything has a particular beauty to it? Or is it simply an aspect of naïveté?

So many nights have been passing by where I have lost myself in the sea of the sunset, and the filling of the sunrise. Time is being filled with the people I have grown to appreciate more than words, and very little time is left for being quiet.

It’s a wonder when you do have a moment to sit back with a cup of coffee and think about the simple things that make you smile, make you remember why you got up in the morning.

Why you love where you are right now, today.

This is such a common theme around these parts, but I honestly think it’s very important to keep in mind the gratitude that got you to this day.

I have been writing a short story for my close friend, something that was such a simple treat for her. Little did I ever know; where it would take me. This story, as far from my own sense of writing, has opened the floodgates to other writers, editors, readers. It has been an amazing month of collaborating and communicating to a whole new range of people I never would have imagined. It makes me feel like this is exactly what I have always wanted to do…

Despite previous convoluted wishes that have swept through me like water—the non-profit organizations which is still a love, the teaching—still another dream for another day, the catering company—which is in the works. Call it confusion, or a loss of that feeling that you know will eventually find its way to you.

Regardless of the fact that this story is a side project, and not a lifestyle--it still feels right.

An email from someone I don’t even know, will probably never meet, has changed a perspective. Changed the way I am thinking about everything. I am not an easily swayed person, but because of words that meant probably nothing to them, brought the light to me; I’ve been swayed.

Why do the things that make you unhappy? Why not try to place yourself in exactly the place where you want to be? Where you know, in your heart of hearts—you deserve to be.

Life is too short for it to be wasted-hoping and wishing something comes your way. Why not put your feelers out there and grab what you are seeking.

Call it preaching, call it bullshit.

Call it whatever you want.

Knowing when to be quiet or scream like a banshee

When it comes to certain things, point of conflict or just plain nonsense I am a rather quiet person. I observe more so than I contribute verbally, only because trust is a luxury.

And because I honestly cannot stand conflict or dusting the bitch claws off. Because one only knows that the minute I do decide to turn into a green ball of rage I'd feel guilty over causing pain to someone.

Worlds biggest pushover; like that wasn't a given.

The other day while sitting with a group of people, a heated topic got brought up. Basically to make a long and convoluted story short, it was about gratitude and never forgetting how and who helped you get through some days or even through it all. And for this discussion one person went above and beyond of being ungrateful and disrespectful.

While the smooth haze of a warm sunset was lining the streets my eyes were aflame with outrage.

Word (s) association of the day: Son of a b (Cursing is bad M...so very un-ladylike).

Sayonara to the sweet natured woman.

I went off, an outburst of words fled from my tongue like rapid fire. While I was pointing out downfalls and points of terrible support that should have been cushioning someone, the group all stared with gaping eyes and mouths at me.

As soon as I caught a breath and regrouped back to my normal amiable self, I asked what was wrong because the table was silent.

Laughter filled the air, followed by statements of 'where did that come from?' All I could say was that when I'm truly heartfelt about something, I can be loud.

The next day I got a message from a friend saying I was hilarious the night before, only to have another conversation to unfold that I said something that made sense but was completely unexpected. Which naturally made me feel extremely self conscious of whether I'd offended or hurt someones feelings.

Repeat: Worlds largest pushover part deux.

Its not as if I don't think my voice won't get heard, its just that nine chances out of ten people are so blinded that they either aren't ready or simply do not want to listen to you. I've learned this over the years and keep my mouth shut unless the dynamic of the conversation is fluid.

That or I'm just pissed off and going to run my mouth. Because let's face it, if you do hear me getting snappy there's a reason. I'm not prattling about to hear my own voice. Its because I care and want to be supportive.

Which this now puts me in a predicament for an upcoming dinner night, an event so typical and yet something I have not had to deal with in a long while. Putting on a game face for a friend that I know the minute any booze is tossed this direction at a table will turn any a conversation into mass destruction.

Mass destruction, meaning that this friend stands against everything I believe in by being a good person and being respectful of thankfulness. Sounds crazy but why be involved when you are not supported? Of course there is a downfall, this friend has been nothing but genuinely nice with me but what I went off about were actions they'd conducted against a mutual friend. Actions I have witnessed and have raised caution for my own friendly protection. Its not as if I am being judgemental because if what was argued comes up I will naturally listen to her side. Safety first, even if that safety is in the form of a self protective layer of negative actions.

God help me I feel like AA will be on my next round of places to meet people because getting through this one night alone should be nothing less than a shot of Jack Daniels chased by either a guinness or damn it all and just grabbing a bottle of tequila.

This really won't be all that bad, people are people with different beliefs. Somehow I've managed to surround myself with some amazingly positive people. Could it be I want to help this one? Even if it drives nails in my eyeballs?

Either way, all I know is to keep trucking and see what other trainwreck pops up on the Real Housewives boat I'm travelling on.

On a completely different side note, thanks are in order to two lovely ladies that have given it up to this space.

Thank you Lala, a gorgeous pregno mama who has a helluva lot goin on right now and Lisa over at This is Something Infinitely Interesting. It means the world to me that you're following this random journey I'm on and can't wait to see where you all go in yours! For my little factoids check this post out.

Until the next. Happy Humpity Hump Day

If you're afraid of butter, use cream

What is it in a book, a manuscript or paragraph in the morning tribune that has something that made you put everything down, stop, and wonder.

Reading through the words causes a frisson of emotions, all fueling the same statements you undoubtedly already knew.

Could it be this easy, has it been here this whole time?

Can I possibly piece this together?

Do I really know this person?

Its really a wonder (and maybe a sign) that I had been reading a single book that gets read so many times per year and ended up writing about change, meeting people who change your life and how you pull yourself together from the millions of pieces and make YOU happen.

Selfish as this is, until I am part of a unit, a family, an attachment, it remains heavily on ones shoulders in this sense where it is about you.

My Life In France is just that book, like An Eat Pray Love or a Susan Elizabeth Phillips read. Its one that gets picked up and brings something to the table even if its a quirky recipe or a reminder to meditate...or remember that absolute blinding love does exist and friendships and relationships form out of nothing and can become everything.

I finished it the other night and thought about people that are closest to my heart, friendships that spread across countrysides and vast oceans. Through email, random postcards and skype we've managed to keep something in tact.

There's a beauty in formed relationships that goes beyond words and in the book two women who didn't meet for years while they had been corresponding through regular posts managed such a strong bond.

I love this. This connectivity that goes above and beyond and everything that is ahead of us.

I may not be living an over the top lifestyle filled with empty relationships or rushing in and out with certain people like toilet paper. With each passing day one more interaction is thrown into the mix of others building. Maybe its a feeling of being humbled with the people around, or better yet its not just people around but people that have been connected through some other force and its just the right time to have paths crossed.

There's not a day that goes by am I not thankful for the people I have met in unusual circumstances that eventually became lifelong friends and family, or beginning friendships that seem unexpected and exciting as they grow. I am grateful for this and cannot think of a better way to say thanks than closing the eyes, taking a deep breath and turning a face to the skies above.

Times have changed, and people change right with it but have we really? I'd like to put myself in Julia Child's shoes while she was living in France. How she must have felt to have met someone who shared her passions and could share coversations apart from her husband who was the luckiest man alive being a taste tester for that damn cookbook that mastered the art of french cooking but was a revolution in the culinary world. Despite everything, planes, trains and automobiles there was communication and a bond.

This is what I aspire for, with meeting people of all walks. Not in a sense that this is all for one reason alone but something that feeds the soul, the voice and warms your heart. And in Julias case its one pound of butter at a time.

And whoever said a little butter never hurt.

Do brunettes have more fun?

This is way overdue but the last two weeks have been insanely crazed which in itself is great but I'm feeling a tad hungover on life this morning...but in a really good way.

Let there be no bias statements here.

Almost two weeks has passed and in that time I've been able to sit back, evaluate and see a different side of things that had been blocked mentally and possibly purposefully.

At the thanks to a friend who hosted a successful fashion supporting for the Northern Illlinois Food Bank last week am I able to don a new do. For this particular event, donations were raised to feed the hungry and three women were chosen to feed their sense of style.

Well two women, as I was a shoe in as a personal gift from a friend.

As mentioned before I was highly critical of taking part but eventually understood the two roots for this little makeover. My friend needed help, and I fell into the age demographic that she needed to fill. A transformation has been evolving both inside and out, physically and emotionally and has been witnessed unbeknownst to myself but very much through the eyes of many around.

Its interesting that while we are going through hard times and dark hours, feeling like a debbie downer or just wanting to say the hell with it all, that is when we let go.

Of our rigid habits and daily routines

Passion and excitement lights are extinguished

We fall and are afraid to get back up in a quiet fashion

I had given up on so much at the helm of my own constant rattling of confused and cluttered thoughts. Preconceived notions that made me feel far less inclined to function on a rational scale but rather lay in a bath trying to cleanse the dirty thoughts down the drain. Positive banter became my enemy and lethargy a scornful force, the glint of laughter diminished from my eyes and just as that driving force hit almost rock bottom something happened. A flipping of a switch or slap of a snare drum?

This did not happen, pulling the pieces back together quietly. The urge to get back up and not reclaim but engage and open oneself to something anew exploded like a god damn atom bomb.

Its amazing, exciting, terrifying and all happening at the speed of light.

A job came through in the most unexpected of ways ceasing all worries making it very clear that the time spent prior to working was necessary to the development of this day. Through chance encounters formed and keep forming lifelong bonds that have lifted spirits by leaps and bounds and provided a support like never before...and a whole new look that isn't new it is just right, defining the good things that keep finding their way on this journey to whatever this day is to bring or be open to.

In no way is this a statement for taking a moment for self pity. Shit happens and are far worse for others, this particular stretch was purely a learning curve and a period of time to define strength, will and perseverance for a greater good and whatever that may bring. For change and awareness. For acceptance of the help of others and the never exiting round of gratitude that is part of my DNA,

A huge part of me feels extremely selfish for all that is taking place and taking a few short breaths to believe and have faith in a greater me whether it be reflected out from an inner sense of being, but at the same time I want to be as receptive as possible because if anyone else were near and in the same place of needing support or a lending hand for anything to help reignite that missing glint I would be the first to step up and pay it forward.

Because it is ultimately the right thing to do, and is the only thing to do.

So the real question remains, do blondes have more fun than brunettes? Who cares, everybody is equal to the amount of fun and opportunity so long as you want it. So long as you accept it and add to it in your own individual way.

With that, I leave for work this morning [the glint sparkling brilliantly] with a photo of this transformation that began two years ago with a rash decision to move to San Francisco (platinum blonde hair in tow)which eventually led to Chicago, a place that has not only fed and continues to nourish my soul but has fed my fashion.


Not a big picture taker so this is all there is for this morning!

When a conversation changes everything

There are few times when you can walk away from a chance meeting with someone and feel that while words were spoken and thoughts verbalized a door had been opened and you were exposed to everything that had eluded you for so long.

Walking along the streets last night with a group of people, this group that feel universal from this lifetime and the previous, I wound up staggering behind for a few minutes.

Taking in the antibiotics…and feeling the lethargy and that terrible swelling (that could have been from the stilettos!)

The true beauty of stone architecture that crafted several buildings along Michigan Avenue

The chilly night winds blanketed with a hint of the first warmth of spring

..and of course the conversation that changed everything.

While crossing multiple city blocks in search of a restaurant I fell into step with a designer’s husband and am without words this morning to the amount of gratitude this man has bestowed upon. Our conversation began as simple banter about nationalities and ancestral history and wound up to astrological history fueled by hearty laughter and an invitation for wanting more conversations.

As one restaurant to the next had waiting lists longer than the Superbowl ticket hubs I found myself captivated by this man and his story of creating something out of nothing but passion and living a life he once thought was the life to live. Only to have it all change in a single second. The chill of the night didn’t even pass through my sweater as he was telling me about how he and his wife met and the fact that their love is so apparent it could never be questioned. Compassion radiated from his eyes, vibrated from his voice and brought tears to my eyes.

Ambition filled his days and kept his purse padded, he swore against certain parts of life that others embarked on and he struggled or thought was needed. Ultimately he was living a life that was great but like using half of our brain, it was only half. It wasn’t until a chance encounter happened with him did his door open and a lifetime of chances and opportunities he never expected nor dreamed could happen, has happened and continues to happen on a general basis.

Always there for other people regardless of circumstances, I am the last person to ask for help, and will fight until the bitter end to make something work. For months I have secretly been asking for help, for guidance, for something to help ease this engrained fear that is inappropriately out of place. Yesterday and especially last night was everything anyone could ever ask for in terms of a personal present.

Having the opportunity on that stretch of pavement makes everything worth seem worth it. The moves, the juggles, the battles and the struggles. Knowing the group, and now this amazing couple, there is a tranquil pull deep inside that I am beginning to understand that they possess. Something that I posses as well and what has drawn me to them and them to me.

Accomplishments conquer the obstacles because had they not, this would not be a clear day. Last night would not have meant the same thing and everything would still be wrapped tightly in a grey cloud. Today there is new meaning, and that has been said before but it was said under a blind eye. Last night, just taking in everything from a phone call driving into the city, walking with the designer’s husband to dinner with friends had a purpose. There is peace with where today is and that is pretty wonderful.

Sinking In

There are some people that believe that everything happens for a reason.
Signs or a passing of something on a street that just so happens to match the exact mode of what you are thinking. What you are asking for in terms of guidance or even some things that happen and are pointing you into a direction that you had not even given a glimmer of thought to.

And then like a flash of lightning, or an ‘ah ha’ moment something solid, a pattern, a statement or something laid out in front of you smacks you square in the face. It snaps your eyes open and forces you to pay attention to whatever those thoughts were and to possibly turn them into a reality.

I have been focusing on so many underlining factors that these little signs have been flagging themselves outright and yet have gone overlooked. Noticed but overlooked.

Six months ago I would have said there were no signs indicating where I am sitting at this very moment. Six months ago I would have said I gave up on listening to those signs simply because they were jaded and misguided, or maybe I was just angry with myself because things were not working out and I wasn’t sure how to get out of a rut.

When really I focused almost too intensely on those little signs hearing the outlining but never the real core of the message behind the meaning. Oh those signs were happening for a reason.

They were symbols of warning initially but eventually leading to something that was bound to be larger than ever expected.

I believe that when you are in the right place at exactly the right time you know it in your heart of hearts. There is a feeling that fills you that cannot be explained. It’s strange but all you can say to yourself or to the people around you who think you have lost your mind.

I know this is right, I just do.

Times have been so incredibly difficult over these months that swept through and should have felt like a week passed by when in reality it feels like three years have swept by. They have crept through at a snails pace and that is okay.

Things are beginning to fall into place in certain aspects but really everything has been piecing itself together and creating a foundation that is rock solid.

For once in my entire life, and this sounds craziest of all, there is a calmness about today. There is an absolute peace with an abundance of gratitude and grace that guides into the minutes and hours.

Finally after hitting that head/breaking point it almost feels like all that has happened was a test of survival, of endurance. To notice that tactics have changed is more than uplifting but is also exciting and causing this deep breath of fresh air that cannot be faltered or lessened.

I don’t know where I am going with this and can only laugh that this all sounds like a Dear Abby letter on xanax, all I know is that this morning I woke up, got out of bed and felt free.

All of the moments of fear, trepidation, pleasure and anticipation got me here to this desk this morning. To this place in life to find permanence and it’s finally sinking in that I have found permanence in my soul.

I think I’ll buy the flowers

For as long as I can remember there have always been flowers scattered around the home that I have been in. The scent filling a room or drifting down a hallway while the splashes of color adding an element of something unexpected in an ordinary room making it extraordinary.

My mind has been filled to the brim with constant clutter, the switch to turn off has been duct taped twice over to the point where even walking along the river couldn’t calm the thoughts. Thoughts that worry, excite, trouble and motivate.

While walking through the market the floral section and bundles of bouquets immediately grabbed my attention and the clutter was quieted almost instantly. It was like something deep inside released a grip and a long and oh so deep breath was allowed through.

All thoughts that I had been focusing on were a constant fixture yes but the flowers were telling me something so clear. So fundamental that I should have seen all along.

Nothing is permanent, it doesn’t matter what happens yesterday tomorrow is still undecided.

The flowers are simply cut, wrapped and waiting to be placed in a glass filled with water. So it can bloom for another day. There are no yesterdays of growing in the deep milled soil there is only the hydration of right now and the possibility of another day.

Sitting here with the overhang of grey clouds and a possible storm coming on, my house is filled with a warmth that has been missing for weeks. For fear of veering from a budget I stopped this simple pleasure that clearly wasn’t a pleasure. It was as much a part of my structure as the air we breathe. The clutter that has crafted two hour nights of sleep and days wasted on worry feel like a distant memory, the good that has happened over several months has been overlooked.

This has been an eventful week filled with so many unexpected invitations to meet up with friends that I am lucky to have. Friends that have become family in a sense that are there for you no matter what. Call on you when things are at the highest or lowest. Friends that know you would do the same for them.

Offers for work that three months ago seemed as if it was never going to happen and yet they came pouring in. The community that I live in is very tight, the town is smaller and yet people band together. It is filled with serving the greater good for people of all sorts and to get involved with this would have been a dream. It is no longer a dream, but a reality as a new week starts with a new venture.

Opportunities from friends and acquaintances, tossed in your direction when you least expect them, showing how you make an impact on someone else’s life without even knowing it. Every smile, laugh, conversation can turn into anything you want it to be and more.

It would seem unfair to give into the cluttered thoughts. The flowers are the reminder for switching those thoughts off. As the warmth fills your heart, to remember all of the things whether they be large or small, the point is to remember everything that has given us appreciation, happiness, peace and relaxation.

This is all more so a bunch of rambling words and I'm feeling a tad on the emotional side because for once things are really looking up and proving that this is the time. This is the place.

But for a Sunday it seems all the more perfect to let this confection claim its spot. Doors are opening, the sun is rising earlier and more flowers are beginning to bloom and for this day there are hydrangeas in my front room.

Can I get an amen?

Unlike listening to some random psychic telephone scam for reasons called too much time on one’s hands, the ears are beginning to open up to these tarot readings that seem to be at my door.

{Courtesy of Google}

Is the third time really a charm? I am beginning to think so. The top three rankers for things we all want to know about: Love. Career. Health. Talk about a no brainer.

Round One
Oh so vague, I tackled this a ways back (Remembering to Grab Hold...), I shuffled the cards thinking about relationship possibilities and where I stood (spinster ways behind us, wishful thinking right) and was told I was losing my ‘light.’

Round Two
The second go around was basically the same cards (a few inverted-not so good) and as I stared down at the cards the reader turned to me and started the session off by saying ‘snap out of it.’ The rough spell was clearly being displayed.

Last week I had another opportunity for a reading and this time I was ready. It felt like being in Las Vegas, I shuffled he dealt. As the cards got laid out, he let out a breathy laugh as did I when I saw those same damn cards, in different positions and a new addition at the end. The difference this time was four blessed cards. Thank and You.

HIM:Things aren’t working for you exactly the way you want right? What are you doing to make a change?

ME:Lots of things, but they still aren’t happening.

HIM:Are you sure? Look at the smaller things and then look at the bigger picture. Now what do you see?

Here’s a note for anyone heading out to see a tarot reader, psychic or medium. Be specific. More importantly be very specific, include names, dates, colors, sizes……

Tarot reader or life coach?

When he got to the very last card he finally looked up and said thank god. Thank god? Please explain! There is light at the end of this bitchy tunnel! Listening with a grain of salt but inside I was flooding with relief.

Yes there have been hard times(he called these out from reading #1). Yes there have been challenges and conflicts with personal relationships and relationships within (all three readings). But there is something good coming this way that will open the doors (amen brother). I don’t want to read into this or have expectations but it’s hard not to wonder as he has not steered me wrong with the other reads.

For example, some of the things he mentioned (twice) was that he thought it would be beneficial to work for a not-for profit or charitable foundation. I received a phone call and what am I doing this week? Working for a not-for profit foundation.

There are a few other things that I’ll wait to touch on until I feel a tad more comfortable with them. If anything these readings have been a cheap thrill making me very aware of a few things that could have been diverted. That old saying, beware of the blinding eye speaks the truth.

So back to the original question is the third time a charm in any instance,disregarding tarot but life in general? The answer is still up in the air as are all things but for today the sensors are open and we'll see.

Dear Twenties....

It’s coming, time is not stopping and what has been viewed as the apocalypse for women, atleast this woman is about to happen. Here lies at the end of this month the end of a decade filled with prime experiences and the start to a fresh and new period. [Grab some coffee and pop a xanax because it’s about to get philosophical.]

Dear Twenties,

We’ve been together for a decade now and the time is approaching for us to sever our ties and move on. While we’ve been together for so long it’s going to be a difficult separation because we’ve been through a lot and thought I was comfortable with but realized that I’ve outgrown you and it’s time you live a life without me. You need to let me go.

When we first met we were breaking out of comfort zones trying to find ourselves with friends we thought were there for us but in turn were there for trips to Canada, times spent away from what was important and spent on partying and getting lost in a sea of being numb. You showed me that every day is different from the next and when the sun rises so does our soul and with that got me back on track and back in the right direction. Tossing aside hard parties, bad boys and reeled in history books and college applications for a place that will always be home. A place that you knew was as much a part of me as the hair on my head.

While at university we moved away for the first time and knew we could do it. We could find, have and really know what it meant to experience fun. We met friends that became family and opened new doors to seeing the world through clear eyes. We traveled the world and discovered that life is more than a grey cubicle and can be anything we really and truly want.

The last few years have passed by with the blink of an eye but have been nothing short of noteworthy. We’ve seen births, deaths, engagements and divorces. We’ve had surprises that have turned into letdowns but ultimately they’ve told us everything we need to know, we weren’t ready for what is about to come. Moves have brought us strength, breakups have brought us independence and a search for nothing perfect but something comfortable and fitting.

We’ve accomplished a lot more than what could have been expected and I am thankful for your support but I must leave you now in order to move forward. No I’m not going to start wearing mumus and get gray hairs and if I do I have a colorist who can fix that snarky little problem in no time. It’s time for a change and that time is now. So I’m going to walk away and not look back, because it’s for the best for both of us. I love you and will never forget you. Thank you for all of the memories.

Morgan

In twenty nine days I will be leaving my twenties behind and heading into the big bright shining star that is the big THREE OH.

Is there anything that I can’t do that hasn’t been done during the past ten years? Apart from getting drunk in school girl uniforms, cage dancing, random encounters with Scottish futbol players, international travel, and a whole lot of moves sandwiched in between? I’d like to think not.

The years have mostly been filled with moments of self discovery and exploring different extremes to see what paths they lead to. They have taken me to such locations I’d never dreamed about had I not dared to believe and trust what could be.

It has been a period for growing up, a phase for maturing. Of course growing up I had created visions of what things would look like, how they could turn and needless to say. Those were only pipe dreams, fun to have in memory but reality hits.

After putting off university because a party personality had taken over and having to explain to patients while checking them in that getting a tongue piercing was ‘the thing to do’ I made the wisest decision of my life. Grow up and get a damn education.

When you catch yourself looking around second guessing if you’re ever going to be something rather than a medical receptionist working 14 hour days it’s time to make a decision. University was just that, I stopped partying. Took out the tongue ring, but got another tattoo to replace it and enrolled in extra classes at the local community college. I tossed out the party girl and never looked back. Which lead to endless opportunities and countless prospects.

In giving thanks, Thank you for the countless times hairstyles and clothes got tossed through the air like candy wrappers. For the cautious reminders that mixed drinks are not a viable option on nights out but shots of tequila will go down like water. For the many men that have come and gone and taught me things that I probably don’t need to know but am certainly glad I do know because there is a reason they’re still not hanging around.

Mostly, thank you for the 3,652 days that have been filled with ups and down, sunshine and snow and experiences that I would never trade nor regret for this lifetime or the next.

It has taken twenty nine years and 336 days to finally get over the anxiety when that should have been replaced with a little excitement or at least eased with some expensive champagne. I can’t help but think that turning 30 is basically like turning twenty all over again. It’s a new time only this time I’m looking at this through clearer eyes that are steady and unafraid. There’s more anticipation to see what can happen and how I can make it happen.

Birthdays have never been a big deal and I don’t plan to change that up this year, but I will go into this new period without any expectations. Without creating an elaborate vision of what could be and just experience it for what it is and keep doing things that bring a smile to the face. I’m opening my mind and heart to this new time and think it couldn’t have been a better time to turn into this new age.

Finally the smoke starts to clear

Fat Man Pants.Check. Fluffy Robe and clean duvee. Double Check.A cupboard rummaged to the very nillies for carbolicious treats and every single coffee bean.Ugh, this week has been just that. Triple checked as one done for the year.



Fat man pants
Your loveable frienemy. They hide everything from a little bloating to that extra doughy goodness that was scarfed at the third breakfast for the day. All at the same time providing comfort in baggy style.

Robie Robe Robe
If this piece of fabric could be converted into square footage, I would gladly endorse and provide directions on how someone’s body can find a sweet new home. (PJ Salvage-is a must own. And apparently Jersey Shore approved go figure)

Carb-delicious
When do we crave bad things…when things are bad. Openly admitting that I did not indulge in the carbs this week. However, and this is a rather large however. I was given champagne and we snuck off for a weeklong getaway together.

Four little words that hide in the smallest of crevices in our mind and pop out when expected but secretly we inwardly flinch whenever they expose their dirty dispositions.

Everything is not alright. The bearer of unwanted sleepless nights, a lack of appetite, refusal of telephone calls and many other things that steal our normal thoughts and place them in a place fueled by worry. By doubt. By fear and secrecy.

I believe that we go through things even if they take us to our darkest hour for a reason. A friend made an excellent point by saying that it is when we are at our ‘lowest’ or ‘hardest’ of places do our minds open up and we can then ‘see’ what we didn’t want to before.

I am not myself and that is not alright. Over the past few months I have increasingly become distant with some that I am close with for reasons that are common and yet embarrassing to admit. I did not want anyone to know that I was nervous about where I am at in life or where things stand. That I have no clue if I made the right decisions, where do I go, do I go it alone. In their eyes, I feared they would be thinking that this was just another way for me to muck up and remain outside of their standards. And so I put up a fake front covering up this discomfort.

Why I even care about the thoughts of other people is quite foreign however my mind is playing dirty little tricks and secretly (openly in this forum) I care immensely. Because I feel that my reasons for being distant are definitely selfish but done involuntarily in a sense of trying to figure out a personal path in life that will get me to their same standards. This topic is not new, and is constantly on my mind so this is sort of a repeated bunch of nonsense.

As I was curled up on the couch in my very own fat man pants I got a phone call from my friend who asked me to come to her store for a bit, was it a sign? Did she know I was stressing out and feeling like I could talk to no one? Yes and after several hours I left her shop and the smoke screen began to lift.

This time of the unknown is a prime period. As terrifying as that sounds, it is a period that I have been stripped of known structure and given control to an undeniable force that is hopefully guiding into something that is fundamentally meant to be. For as long as I can note, I have worked desperately to get by and have been unhappy through the entire process. Over the past several months I have been lucky in more ways than one and am able to see this through the darkest hour.

I moved to a city without knowing a soul, stepped out on a fluke and was embraced immediately by a group I am fortunate to call friends. The Real Housewives…I’m a bonafide member of the crazies only sans the housewife part for now. Brushing up the wine goblets and fully onboard the dirty hot mess train! Toot toot.

The job aspect has been a royal, stress inducing pain in the neck but as I think things over there is a reason things have not worked themselves out quite yet.

Men, sweet jesus, but again there is a reason things have not worked out yet.

What it all comes down to is that life is filled with challenges. There’s never an easy route and even if you think someone has it better than you, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you continue living your life how and whichever way makes you happiest.

I lost sight of this over the course of the week, in the absence [phones, internet, etc.] time was replaced with the comfort of truthful and healthy insight.

This sort of openness to vulnerability was something I needed experience in order to understand the real depth of everything that makes me whole as a person. A woman that can get through this rough spell and remain as amazing, desirable, happy, loveable, equal, laughable, excited, emphatic and at peace as ever.

It’s a doozy and hopefully the last of these snarky deep rooted ones. To make a convoluted story short. Hard times are a serious bitch and will sneak up but they will always pass just as fast.

Texting Version 2.0

For the past month I have been going very slow with a new man and I cannot even stress how difficult this is. The track record is spotty so slow is a must. We started through emails with small banter that transitioned into exchanging telephone numbers. Just as the snowstorm hit, he started to send funny little text messages and we went back and forth with little laughs here and there. Nothing serious, nothing overly long and drawn out. I figured he was nervous about making a phone call and I certainly was not going to initiate. He sought me out.

He called and we talked for ages. He was funny, cute, we talked about everything and the conversation was comfortable for the most part. Afterward he sent a follow up text later that same evening and then again a couple of days later. I know with Valentine’s Day it is bound to make many men skittish and I added this into account as for the timing of beginning to talking on the phone.

It had been a week and nothing. No phones, no texts, no messages. Strange really because we talked daily, several times per day and to go from that to nothing caused a little unease to creep up and self doubt to take up residence yet again for a brief moment.

I tried not to be over-analytical. Kept busy by going out with friends, volunteering, but of course by the end of the night my eyes are checking out the phone. Looking to see if the red light is blinking indicating a new message or missed call.

By the end of a week of hearing nothing it made me consider my actions and I turned to my ‘consultants’ for some advice. My sister and brother in law have kept me grounded as far as men are concerned and stood by watching the wild boyfriend rollercoaster that I have been operating. They are the people that when you turn away from a disappearing act will tell you the exact moves that got you there and how to snap back into shape to avoid that business in the future.

Bless it because it’s good but it’s a real pain in the neck. Finally getting through our little video conferencing session I walked away with this.

Never put all eggs into one basket (common sense but sometimes we are blind)

Texting is lazy and this guy is probably shy. He wouldn’t have called and spoken for a length of time if he wasn’t interested and then text back later that same night. Consultant number 2 (brother in law)agreed on sending an email, not a text or a phone call after Valentine’s Day to say hi and see how he is. To quote him:“Valentine’s Day is intimidating ‘diki’ put yourself out there one more time and then wash your hands clean if he opts out.”

So this is what I did. I sent him a note and a day later received a text message that was a catch up of sorts. He had been texting but wasn't sure if I had been receiving any messages.

Positive: he responded. Interesting part and the part I don't understand. Though we are living in a very fast paced time why should it be so difficult to pick up a telephone if you don’t think messages are going through? Clearly I will answer but now I am reconsidering. I text him back something brief but said I was out with friends which was true and if he could call later. Receiving nothing back.

Whether or not our conversations were to ever lead into anything apart from what it is at now, time will only tell but this much I do know. Texting is an easy cop out. It takes more time to text message someone than it does to pick up a phone and say hello.

Yes I agree that it’s nice to see a little light flashing on my phone with a fun message but because this is so new in terms of talking to a new man I’d much rather have face to face contact that communicating through so many characters on an electronic device. Seems fair and reasonable.

Is this demanding? Does this make me a mega wattage high maintenance bitch. Absolutely not. It’s simple. Maybe this man is shy, maybe he’s taking it slower as well. For this I’ll go at his pace but am in no way shutting out the idea of meeting other new people. We're only 'talking.'

This is just a bump in the road and another check mark to be that much more aware of because I stopped that little piece of me for a week and was filled with a dip in doubt, but no more!

I’m purely a simple woman on a mission to living life with the heart on her sleeve and the happiness in her eyes.