Paul Bunyan's an Asshole

I've realized with this blog that I go through really good highs and I go through really deep lows, and I document it all for the inter web. When I began this blog, it was very much my therapy during a rough time when I thought I needed to know every answer to every question. Hell, I thought I needed to know what the questions were before they were asked. In the four short months I've had this blog, I've realized I'm becoming comfortable with not knowing a lot of the questions. I'm working on the answers part...

In four months I've been to too many funerals, I've written about too many sad days, I've taken part in the most awkward of circumstances, and I've lived a lot of life. I'm tired today. I'm really tired. I'm not hugely upset, I'm not angry, I'm not even sad. Just tired.

Today, I was asked by a stranger in plaid, with a noticeably gorgeous beard, directions to a local street. I thought, how odd, everyone knows where Lake Ave. is... But the stranger got closer as I directed him to go 13 blocks one way and you can't miss-- gosh he's getting really close to me. He has a great beard...And then--

I'm in the snow. His hands are ripping off my bag, and I feel myself holding on tighter yelling for him to get off me. He shoves me harder. I let go out of straight up fear, screaming for help. And then the last shove... the one that I remember most because he already had what he wanted and he still did it. As I try to get to my feet, I realize I have tears in my eyes and I'm running after him. We all know I'm no runner, especially when the snow just keeps. on. falling. in this town.

So, I was robbed today. As if my life couldn't get more random and crazy and just plain stupid. It's stupid at this point how hard growing up is. What did he get from me? What was in my pottery barn shoulder bag? My books, my favorite copy of Jane Eyre, my phone, my wallet with exactly 34 cents in it, and deodorant. Good for you, dude. Standing ovation. And the best part? I'm most upset about Jane Eyre. Who am I? Luckily you can replace a book. You can replace a phone. You can replace body odor repelant.

But I'm stuck tonight, guys. Cause I can't replace the image of looking up at him and seeing the anger in his eyes as he shoved me down. It happened so fast, yet I know I get to dream about that for the next two weeks. Sometimes I'm less than thankful for my imagination, because in my dreams it will run wild.

I think the reason I'm blogging about it, the reason it seems painful, is that it's a reminder that not all people give out good. While I'm here, by no means a perfect little angel, trying everyday to be my best self... Others watch out for only themselves. That's the worst. It's by no means a pity story, it's by no means a cry myself to sleep kind of night... but I am upset that yet again the bad in life has shown itself. And in the form of a man. There have been some pretty rough times in my life where men haven't treated me the best, and I hate that today was another reminder of that. Because, on the best days, I'm surrounded by more important, noble men that I know what to do with. But today, all those emotions of being treated poorly came rushing back. It's not for me to judge another person, I don't know why he thought I should be the girl to target, but I hope finds it in himself to change.

And, in a weird way, I feel strangely like 'So what?' A girl I went to high school with just lost her dad this week. A friend of mine is pregnant. Another friend just got into a car accident. And a close friend's brother just died. And I'm sitting here licking my wounds because my favorite book and phone are out of my reach? I'm just tired. I'm tired of the lights and the smoke and the drama and the growing pains. Growing up is still fucking hard, and I feel so old when I say that. To be so young and to feel like you've lived a thousand years... there's something wrong with that. Time to not only hope Paul Bunyan the Thief changes, but that I do as well. Bad things happen, but there are worse things in the world than a stolen bag. Let's recognize the good and the bad, and celebrate the in betweens.

What I've learned: Everyone's on their own journey. Phones can be replaced. Material things mean nothing compared to health and positivity. And not all men with beards are going to treat you the way you wish to be treated. Who knew?

Cheers to the good, bad, ugly, and horrific. Cheers to hard times making you stronger. Cheers to Mama Teri Debele, who's only response was 'Whhhaat a jerrrkkkkkk.' Yes, Mama. Yes.