Monday, July 22, 2013

Draw A Map.

You have to know where you're going or else you just get confused.

I have a coworker that has said this to me a few times since I started my job back in April. The first time, I remember thinking what a cool phrase it was. Because it's true. But, naturally, I forgot the phrase, forgot the meaning, and went about my days. Just the other day we started talking about what he wanted from his future. He wants some crazy things. Like, making a house out of aluminum cans and living off the earth and moonshining type weird. And I'm all like -- Yeah, just going to New York, LOL bye..... -- but after he said all of his crazy plans he paused and said 'That's just it. It doesn't matter what you're plan is... you have to know where you're going or else you just get confused.'

The second time hearing it, I found myself smiling. I knew I wouldn't forget the phrase. This past year of my life has been trying to convince myself to focus. To work really hard for the bigger picture. The problem is I keep losing what that picture looks like. When it's 5am and I haven't slept all week and I don't want to get up for work, I don't tell myself to stay focus, I come up with reasons it's okay to fall back asleep. Then when I have five minutes to get ready for work I'm kicking myself because I could have had an hour. You can imagine how put together I look at 6am... The point, is that I get confused a lot. I forget where I'm going. And I'm grateful to my coworker for reminding me that there is always a reason to wake up, there's always a reason to work really hard.

I don't want to serve people food for the rest of my life. I want to be my own version of successful. But I'm ready to work really hard at the part-time jobs to get to new places. I feel really good about where I'm at today but it's all a part of the journey. I'll never get to New York, to San Fran, to the jobs I dream about... I won't get anywhere if I don't remind myself where I want to be.

Cheers to gentle reminders. Cheers to hard work. Cheers to the payoff.


Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Confusion City

The days are busy but good, and the nights are lonely and full of silence. It's a weird combo, but I think I'm making it work. I find that the silence creates more noise than anything. I'm able to think, really dig down deep and check in with my emotions. I thought that was supposed to be a good thing? But now I find that I'm a ball of emotions... and yet I never cry. I used to cry at commercials with puppies and now I watch movie after movie that literally has 'You'll cry your eyes out!' on the poster and I just sit there. Is that a bad thing? Is that growing up? Is that numb? I don't necessarily feel numb... I feel like I'm making an effort to really live each day and experience the moments. Maybe I'm just tired...

It's funny when you can feel yourself falling into a lull. Because it's not a bad place to be at. I'm doing really well. You simply find moments of your day (say, at night when I'm alone) to remind yourself that sometimes you get sad or sometimes you don't feel good about yourself. Like, brain, why the reminder? Duh. I guess all I can do is try even harder to remind myself of the good things that happen throughout my days. Really good things, with the best people.

It's a bittersweet funk. It's complicated simplicity. It's life.

What a world.

Cheers.

Monday, July 15, 2013

Give it a Name

There's loneliness in the air today. It tries to break the good and the bad and turn it into despair. Does loneliness mean you have no one or you just know someone else, someone you've never met before, is supposed to be here? Because there are others, people who radiate, people who are the reason for feeling whole. But there's that one person, being, thing, that's supposed to be here. Where are you? Are you searching for another, too?

I'm right here.

It's not that I would trade, I would just like to add.
It's not that I'm not happy, I just wonder, wonder, wonder.
Sometimes the imagination is a friendly foe.
Sometimes I wish you were here.
Sometimes I'm glad you aren't.
Most days I wish.


Monday, July 8, 2013

The Call.

In the last few days, I've become more and more clear that when times get tough, you need a few days of breathing room. I've been thinking about those special times in my last few years... and at the time, they were just days... just regular moments. But now, after some time, they're these great memories that I share and laugh about. Every little moment builds into these great stories that I talk about when people ask about high school, about how I manage to laugh at myself. It's easy, really, I'm kind of this quirky mess with a loud voice. But I wouldn't trade it, I wouldn't trade myself... which feels really good today. These memories carry me through self doubt and catapult me into reflecting on all the goodness:

--The other day I took a seven hour nap so I was up all night and it's amazing how quiet the world is when the only thing you feel like doing is dancing in your living room.

--In high school, the worst thing I ever did was skip a day of school when my parents went on vacation. My best friend and I had a week long sleepover, and one day we just didn't go. She called in as my mom, and she also called in as her sister-in-law, and we spent the day in my basement watching movies. It's actually the perfect story of our rebellion, because we were angels back then. Sticking it to the man, one skip day at a time.

--A year ago, to the date, I was in the worst phase of my depression. I kept calling it sadness, I couldn't even say the word. On July 4th, 2012, I was sure there was no other option but sleeping away my days until someone woke me up telling me it was over. What a hard way to live...What a weird day to feel alone. But I made a few calls to really important people, and slowly but surely I started climbing out of a really deep hole. Those phone calls are the reason I did anything about my depression. Make the call. Fight for yourself. The best medicine I've ever been given is time. A year has gone by and I have no idea if I'm out of the hole or not, but I know that I'll never get that deep again. It's the weirdest feeling to look back on a year and know that I was so close to giving up. Now, today, it's not possible. There's too much good in the world, in my world. The good didn't start a year ago, it's always been there. But fog, sadness, depression... whatever that word is, it takes the light away. Now during the bad days that light never goes away... it just gets dim. Part of me wishes it would never dim, but that's life, isn't it? Finding a source of energy, of strength, when you feel your weakest. That's the stuff you write about.

--If I ever make a big paycheck, the first thing I'll do is pay my parents back for every 'I need help' call I've ever had to make. They don't know it, but I keep a journal of every time I've ever asked for money since I've been in college. It's a huge amount, and every time I struggle getting up for work I remember all that they have done to help me and how badly I want to help them back... and I do work. It's sort of lost in my suburban girl attitude that some people have never had this option. I'm so lucky. For now, that's all I can say. I'm lucky and grateful and my cup runneth over.

--Every teacher I've had, every professor, I've asked the same question: What were you're parents like? I don't know why it's my go-to question, I guess I'm fascinated by individual history. My favorite answer: The best. That's all they say. Most of them. Some of them didn't have great relationships, some of them lost a parent or both in childhood, some of them have beautiful stories of how their aunt took them in and became their parent. But my favorite answer is when they smile and take a moment before giving me the simplest answer: They were the best. I can't wait until I'm asked that question years from now. Looking back on who helped shape the person we are, it's such a treat.

--My first days of college feel lightyears away. It's funny how you can't really tell how much you've changed in a few years...but I know I'm quite different. In high school, I was so straight laced and cared so much what others thought about me. You try so hard to fit a model of what others want to see. We all do it. Wear the right brand, say the right slang, be the right person. And now, hell, you try so hard to be your own person, to create your own path. I'm so glad I've changed. I miss my friends, I miss having so much in common with so many people based strictly on knowing them for so many years. But I'm so grateful for the opportunity to really search for who I am. Does everyone get that? I hope so. I think you're forced into it, sooner or later, and you never really feel on track... But maybe that's not our fault. I mean, who says where the track is and where it should lead? Whoever labels that, they need an adjustment. They need some change, as well.

--I knew I needed to go into the arts when I auditioned for a play in high school. The audition requirement was to perform a monologue, an argument, from one perspective, and then perform a second monologue from the other perspective. I don't remember what my acting was like... but I know that I killed it in the writing department. And the moment I left the stage, I heard the directors whispering, and I just knew I had done something that in my little world was big. Bigger than an A on a test, bigger than having the right haircut, bigger than anything I had found up to that point in my life. I had stumbled upon this adventure of storytelling. Cool moment. One I hold onto when all I can seem to write is 'fuuuuuuuuck writing is hard' because sometimes your favorite things annoy the hell out of you.

--My first kiss was a gay boy. And I think my love life has accurately followed what it means to lose your first lip on lip action to a person that isn't thinking about your breasts as he kisses you. I'm not bitter.

--One time my best friend was so drunk he lost all of his clothes on the beach, including his keys, so he had to climb onto his roof naked to get to an open window. And you bet your ass (well, his pale ass) that I watched the whole thing. It's comedy gold. It's memory gold. And when I'm 70 and my grandkids ask me about college I won't tell them anything about classwork or studying, I'll tell them to remember the times you were so angry at your friends for being so drunk because it's those times, when they are saluting you with their... well... It's those times you'll look back on with pride because you've found people that are completely themselves. And that makes you a much better person.

I don't know where I'm going, and there are parts of where I've been I wish I could change. I just know I'm grateful for so many moments where the grass became greener exactly where I was standing because I worked my ass off. There are times I think I'm failing, and there are times I think I'm the only person in the world that feels this lonely. But the truth is that somewhere someone doesn't have the people I have to pull them out of their hole. So, say a little prayer (or throw a little energy) to that girl or boy. Fighting for yourself is never selfish, but it's the hardest task at hand... I can't begin to explain how choosing to fight, for me, saved my life. Fighting for anything gives you pride, and being proud of yourself is the biggest beacon of light you can find. Plus, you get to look back on a life that may be hard, long, and stressful...but it kicks ass.

Cheers to a better year. Cheers to the people who get drunk and climb their roof, and the people who will judge that story harshly. I enjoy you both. Cheers to loving what you do, and loving it hard. Cheers to time.

Cheers to you. I would be lost without so many of you, I would be lost without your words.
Thank you.



Monday, July 1, 2013

Why?:Unknown

I'm feeling so confused tonight. I was out with friends. I was out with my best people. And I come home and start surfing the internet, and see on Facebook that one of my closest friends from high school has a picture of her and her mom up there. I always have loved their family, so I smile when I see the picture. Then that smile fades as I read the caption that says her mom found multiple brain tumors and needs surgery this week.

I'm so confused. This doesn't happen to people you know, mothers that helped you with your homework and drove you countless times to and from basketball practice. This doesn't happen to them. So why her?

I went to mass today and the homily was about showing up everyday for God. And He'll show up for you regardless, but when you show up, you feel love and strength and power and justice. You feel all the things God is supplying. But on days like today, when my friend is asking impossible questions and holding her family so close... how do we show up? How do we be selfless when the only thing I'm praying about is this woman's health and safety and this family's strength?

I want answers, I want to make those tumors disappear, I want to erase the sadness this has placed on this wonderful 22 year old girl. I want that so bad.

Whenever I talk to my dad about his mom, who passed away too young, he always says that you never know how strong you can be until it is your only option. I pray for the strength of three hundred men for my friend. I pray this becomes a mini-moment. A scare. I pray the recovery is fast and they find moments of laughter. I pray that this blog post isn't just lost words and doesn't mean anything.

I'm just so confused. And scared. For my friend, for the family, for the randomness. In a moment your whole perspective changes. And I still don't get that. I don't think I ever will. Life just isn't fair. In a moment, you go from laughing on a porch with your friends to a pit in your stomach and typing a blog because it's 1:30am and everyone else is asleep dreaming about tornadoes or that one guy they didn't realize they thought about too much. How simply we live until a moment in time makes it oh so complicated.

Complicate simplicity. A tumor, in a brain, so simple. But put it in the brain of an amazing woman, mother, and it's so complicated it hurts.

I typically never share names, because, well, it's none of my business at the end of the day. So, if you pray, or send positivity, or send good juju... know that there is a family that will have a really hard week. Know that this family is full of good people, and they could use your prayers/positivity/juju. And know that it makes me sad I wait for moments of fear of the unknown to focus on what really matters... so don't do that. Cool?