The Girl Who IS.

2013.  The New Year. It's funny that one moment can hold so much promise for the future, isn't it?  If you think about it, the New Year is when a lot of people vow to make some earth shattering changes in their lives.  Among many of the popular 'resolutions' people make during the New Year, some vow to lose weight, others to quit smoking, be more positive or let go of a long held grudge.  Whatever the resolution is, we tend to get carried away by the allure that the New Year (henceforth referred to as NY--not New York, but New Years) holds.

So what is it about the clock striking midnight to signify the dawn of the NY?  Is it what you're leaving behind in 2012?  Is it the promise of a fresh start?  Is it the chance to move forward into something different, by actually pairing a fresh start with the symbolism of all that is NYE?  The answer to these questions is different for everyone. However, if we look at history, and tradition in the United States....we're told a very interesting story.  In the US, the kiss shared at midnight is derived from masked balls that have been common throughout history.  In this tale, the masks symbolize evil spirits from the old year and the kiss, purification into the new year.  There you have it. As they say....

Out with the old, and in with the new.

As I ponder the past year, I think of both the good and bad things I went through.  In April, I moved into a house with my boyfriend.  A home, which we fixed up with our own bare hands.  A home, that I thought was going to fix the distance that had formed between us.  Unfortunately, that distance should have been repaired long ago.  However, that's all in the past.  Right now, it's simply a shadow of something. A scar, if you will, just on the tip of my heart. I got to see three of my dearest friends, make the ultimate commitment to the person that they love. I got to see my Monroe grow.  I was there for another, when everything seemed like it was falling apart around her---and because of that, we're closer than ever.  I reconnected with old friends, and made new ones.  I started to make changes in me.  Care about me.  Work towards loving me.  See, through the shit storm---I can find the good; and that's progress.  If I look at the one bad event that stands out, that has affected me more than anything---and I compare it to all of the good....I think that things can't be that bad after all---because as tired as I am hearing these sayings it's true:

Everything happens for a reason
It's always darkest before the dawn
God doesn't close a door without opening a window 
Karma exists....and it's a bitch  

While I am tired of hearing these sayings, I have come to a point where I have opted to let myself believe in them.  If we stop believing in all of the encouragement people offer, we tend to come off as gruff, pessimistic, or even worse-----ungrateful.  

So as I begin to think about how I am going to turn over a new leaf this year, I want you to all think about the implications that follow a holiday like NY.  You see, it shouldn't just be the NY that inspires us to make those earth shattering changes that I mentioned before.  No, we should always want to better ourselves, no matter what time of year it is.  You see, it's so easy to just give up.  Believe me, I'm the QUEEN of giving up.  Don't know how to complete a math problem?  Give up.  Don't know how to fix an error message on your computer?  Give up.  Have difficulty eating right and losing weight?  Give up.  Can't seem to get someone to let you in?  Give up.  You see, here enlies the problem with resolutions, or anything of difficulty.  Once the going gets tough, it's easy to leave it behind....because if given the option to fail, bend over backwards to make it happen---or give up---most of us would choose to give up. 

So here's some advice:

Don't be that person.  Believe me, I have been giving up on myself for a long time.  The victory is so much sweeter when we can say "You know what, I did this...and it was hard as hell, but look where I am now.  I did this."  So, ladies and gents, here are my resolutions:

• Spend more time with my little sister---and make more of an effort to let her in.
• Exercise
• Lose weight
• Be happy
• Be fun
• Be optimistic
• Make plans and keep them
• Don't be afraid to say "No"
• Move forward
• Let go

There you have it.  Seems like so much and so little all at once, but you know what?  I have so much I have to overcome before any of these can be conquered.  So, I move forward, and try to do so with as much power as I have. 

So as I leave you, I encourage you to think, really think about what I have said here.  Try not to let your resolutions fall by the wayside.  Don't think of the NY is your only chance.  Every single day is a new day. Give yourself a chance, and if you do--please know that your worst critic, your worst judge isn't me, your mother or the strange gas station attendant down the street.  It's you.  So give it your all.

I wish you all a safe and happy NY.  Hopefully you'll have someone to kiss when the clock strikes 12. Hopefully I will too...if not....I will know that what's meant to be....will be. 

A.

Coming Soon....

Prepare for a New Years themed blog......

Coming to a computer screen near you...tonight.

I hope you all had a fabulous holiday.

A.

Black Cats, Broken Mirrors and Bad Luck

a : a force that brings good fortune or adversity

b : the events or circumstances that operate for or against an individual

2

: favoring chance; also : success <had great luck growing orchids> 

Definition courtesy of http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/luck

From a young age, the concept of luck is something that sort of sticks with us.  We might be lucky if we're chosen to be the first in line to get lunch, or lucky that we got an 'A' on a test--and didn't even study.  In adulthood, we might be lucky to have the opportunity to attend a university or lucky to have not gotten caught drinking underage at a party.  Hell, some women might consider themselves lucky to have gotten their period this month (and yes, I apologize for being so crude); however the point here--being that luck means something different for all of us.

With luck comes superstition, which is extremely interesting to me--because we all have our 'thing' to be leery of.  If you're somewhat superstitious, then you know, and can believe that perhaps one event might cause or lead to another event without scientific rhyme or reason.  These events, contradict even the most logical of explanations.  Well, maybe that is a bit dramatic; however---I can phrase it in a different way for you more simple minded, and less superstitious folks.  Sometimes, shit happens--and there is no real reason for it. 

The origin of superstitious thoughts is unknown. Nevertheless, there are many superstitious thoughts that often resonate with us all today--both religious and folkloric in nature.  Some refuse to open an umbrella inside, walk under a ladder, break a mirror or cross the path of a black cat.  Others post crosses over their front door in order to protect them from evil.  Whatever you believe, there's obviously a reason for it.  Maybe it's something that has been instilled in your mind from childhood; perhaps something happened to you in the past that has caused your superstitions to really escalate.  For example, I refuse to wear a necklace that I wore the day Francesca passed away.  Call me crazy---but it feels like there is bad 'juju' associated with it.  You and I both know that the pendant did not cause Frenchy's accident.  Yet, I still refuse to wear the necklace.  I wear my cross every single day, now that I've given all the other jewelry back to him.  The fact of the matter is, I am superstitious.  Yet, it doesn't prevent me from living my life, and I think that also because of my superstitions I am able to laugh at some of the situations I have been confronted with recently.  

Last week, I wrote about scars. Well, ladies and gentleman--this clumsy girl is going to have another scar.  We had a work Christmas party last Wednesday.  While I had about 3 beers, I wasn't feeling anything, and was so busy that I didn't have time to 'get crazy.' Not that I had planned to anyway.  Regardless of that, I was running to the back of the stage, to get something that I had left there.  I slipped on some water, and hit my shin on the door jam leading to the back of the stage. First thing I did: looked around to see if anyone had seen.  Ironically, while I was running, I had thought to myself "There is a good chance that I fall over-because that would be just my luck."  I called it, didn't I?  Second thing I did, was sort of did the 'walk it off'.  Third thing I did was think to myself 'Well, that is going to leave a bruise."  As I continued to say goodbye to all of the guests, and talk to people, I felt something warm sort of saturating my pants.  I then looked down, and saw that there was a blood spot where I had hit my shin.  Sure enough, there was a pea sized puncture wound in my leg.  Now, everyone encouraged me to go to the ER, but if you know me--you will understand that I have an intense fear of needles, and anything having to do with the possibility of needle involvement.  So, I went home, and Jimena attempted to butterfly bandage my shin.  

Tis but a flesh wound..............................NOT.

I woke up at 2:30am to a saturated gauze bandage---a sweaty forehead and a queasy stomach.   Thus, I got my wimpy ass out of bed---and went to the ER.  Three stitches, a chastising nurse (about my BP and weight), and an irrigated wound was the result of said visit.  All I could do was laugh at the situation.  Laugh because as I was pouring peroxide into my wound to clean it (pre-ER visit), I screamed to Jimena "I hate insert he who must not be named here."  She retorted with "What does he have to do with this?" I laughed/cried/responded:

Because I blame everything bad that happens on him.

The rational part of me, and those of you who are reading this know quite well that me falling was not his fault.  The pain I feel in my heart, sure.  The pain I feel in my leg a week later, no.  That was my own clumsiness, that just adds to the pain(s) in my ass that I deal with every single day.  So, I will have another scar to add to my battle wounds.  This one will be visible, and will make for a great story when it's healed.  While this particular scar will not define me---it will define and symbolize this time in my life, and the transition I continue to make.  It will heal, as I am going to heal.  It won't be raw forever, but there will always be a shadow of it somewhere within me.  

I won't let it define me, though.

So as you read this, and you think about your own superstitions...and perhaps some of the bad things that have happened to you in the past, are happening now, or might happen in the future---please remember these words of wisdom that I can offer....

Those events will leave scars.  It is an inevitable truth.  However, you don't have to let those events define you.  You can rebuild yourself, get a thicker skin, and grow a new piece of yourself.  Just know, that darkness can't last for too long....even if they are predicting the end of the world on Friday.  Keep loving and laughing---and most of all, keep growing.

A. 

  

Colorblind

Good Morning, all...

I don't have much time to write: however the next blog I write will be on the concept of luck.

I hope you all have an epic day.....

A.

Hiding Scars

On my 10th birthday, my golden birthday...my family took me on a camping trip to Wisconsin Dells.  The usual family and friends joined us on our trip: Uncle Greg & Aunt Rose, Mom, Dad, Stephanie and Uncle Dave.  On the actual day of my 10th Birthday, we all went to Devil's Lake for a day of fun in the sun.  When I was a kid, I loved riding my bike everywhere.  So my Aunt Rose and I ventured out on one of the paths circling the lake.  As we raced down the asphalt path, I turned a sharp corner, hit some gravel and slid 6ft cutting my knee pretty badly and slicing my hands open.  At the time, I think it was the shock of the fall more than anything that upset me.  Granted the wound was deep, and I had fallen so hard that my mom had to pick the rocks out of it.  While I was sitting there crying, my mother took it upon herself to lecture me on the importance of wearing knee and arm pads when riding my bike. Now, anyone who doesn't currently have children....and anyone who rode a bike as a kid, knows that it is extremely uncool to wear knee, elbow and arm pads when riding their bike.  I suppose if I were a parent now, and even at an an older age now...I can see the value in wearing such ridiculous gear when riding your bike.  Nevertheless, to this day I still have that scar on my right knee...ironically in the shape of the state of Illinois.

Scars.  They sort of tell a story.  Scientifically scars are areas of tissue that replace our normal skin after an injury.  A scar, is the result of the biological process of wound repair in the skin and other tissues of the body.  Thus, scars are a natural part of the healing process.  However, when a person has a scar, there is always a story behind it.  My dad has a scar from the top of his collar bone to the bottom of his ribs.  It's from his near fatal heart attack three years ago.  My friend has two scars on her face from a sledding accident. Another friend has a scar on her shin from where she "shaved her legs for the first time, and shaved off an entire fucking layer of skin."  Yes, even her description of it fits her to a tee.  Regardless of what our scars are, and where they are located---they all have a story.  Not all scars are external, some scars are internal.  They're hard to pinpoint.  However, those scars are sometimes the thickest---and the ones that affect us the most.  As I was getting dressed these evening, and putting on my trusty sweat pants, I took some time to look in the mirror, yet again.  I know, it's an obsession I have, and it's something I am trying to overcome.  If I were to wear a bathing suit right now, you would see four stretch marks on the front of my stomach and two on each side of where my 'love handles' would be.  The reason I tell you all about this, is because I consider them to be scars.  Scars from a time period of really self destructive behavior.  These 'scars' have come to define me in a very negative way.  They reach me all the way on the inside, and touch me on the very tip of the loss I have just experienced.

If I think about those scars, and the journey I have just embarked on, I'm not certain this journey is going to help the fresh wounds heal.

Last week, my therapist told me she thought that it might be healthy if I subscribe to an online dating site--and create a profile.  Let's all be honest with ourselves....firstly, I will fully and honestly admit that I am 100% awkward when it comes to talking to guys.  I don't even know where to begin, mostly because I don't have the confidence to even think that a guy would want to talk to me.  Some of that stems from being dropped like I was nothing.  Some of that stems from myself.  Some of that stems from me being 19 when I met the one I thought I was going to be with forever.  Before I met him, I spent so much time taking care of others, that I never really worried about learning how to find my 'dating groove.'  Here I am, 25---and I have to learn how to date.  Nevertheless, I digress....and yes....that all rhymed.  So, I created a dating profile.  I took a chance and 'emailed' a few guys...and none of them responded...which was a blow to my ego that is already the size of a pea.  I started to talk to this one individual.  What do you know, a conservation officer?  Seems I attract them.  We did the whole 'small talk' thing, which I wasn't really certain of because I mean, what do you say....furthermore, what do you say when you're talking to someone online...which is awkward in itself.  Let's face it folks, I am not Carrie Bradshaw---and I don't walk down the streets in fabulous clothing with fabulous shoes...stumbling across men that I think might be 'the one.'  No, I drive to work in my dress pants, with my Converse All Stars on (yes, I walk to my car this way with my dress pants), and I change my shoes when I get to work, and I have chipped nail polish on my toes...and I like to wear t-shirts.  I don't have that suave nature, where things just fall into place.  As much as I would love to be Carrie Bradshaw, I'm not her....and things don't seem to be working that way.  So, as we continued to talk, he asked me about my past relationships.  So I told him, I told him everything.  Which I think was a mistake.  He kept asking questions, so I kept talking. I think I divulged too much....because he asked me for the second time "So, what do you do for work" and I went to answer...again (which I thought was weird....but hey) and he quickly said "Sorry, I had the wrong window open".  Ouch, burn.  I know the point of online dating is to talk to lots of different people. It just feels so awkward and impersonal.  The thing is, I don't know how else to have the courage to talk to people, and even many of the guys I have mentioned on this site, haven't answered.  Ouch, burn.  I know I have to give it time, and I can't let my scars show.  Needless to say, that individual has not reached back out to me again....and when I say this, I almost say it with a chuckle because it's just my luck and personality. I guess I just have to keep trying.  Even though I believe it is too soon, and even though my scars are shining as bright as they ever have before. 

Better get my Neosporin out....

A.

Odd Man Out

It's the classic story of childhood.  At recess, a group of 10 children gather to play a game of touch football in the cool fall weather.  Two team captains are chosen, and the choosing of the teams ensues.  As a person who is  waiting to be picked--you have this feeling of dread in your stomach...and it kills you.

No one wants to be picked last. 

I don't have time to write it all out---but prepare for my tales of entering the online dating world later....

A.

Where are you going, and what do you wish?

Sometimes I wish that I had a 'blogger' application linked to my brain.  It's tough because sometimes, I have a thought, "That would be perfect for my blog."  Hence, I am going out and buying a journal and a nice pen.  Anytime I have one of those thoughts, I can write it down.

----Begin Blog----

Cruel Intentions.  It's a movie starring Ryan Phillipe and Reese Witherspoon.  In the film, Sebastian  (played by Phillipe) is a self centered and egotistical 'teenager' with money to burn and the looks to do it with.  His stepsister,  Katherine (played by Sarah Michelle Gellar) makes a bet with him.  You see, Phillipe and Gellar constantly play a game of cat-and-mouse because she knows that he is madly in love with her.  The bet is this:

If Sebastian successfully seduces Annette, (a sworn virgin until marriage) then Katherine will 'make all of his dreams come true'.

 As Sebastian attempts to fulfill his conquest, he begins to fall in love with Annette, and actually care about her.  The truth is, it scares the shit out of him--because he realizes what he thought was once love---doesn't even begin to compare to what he is starting to feel for Annette. For once in his life, he realizes the person that he is.  For once in his life, someone else means more to him, than himself.  

 The film comes to a point, where Annette finally accepts him.  He stops himself from actually completing his 'mission'---leaving Annette embarrassed, ashamed, and feeling dumb for letting herself feel something for Sebastian.

After the meeting the bedroom, when Sebastian stops himself from having sex with Annette, he returns to his room out of breath.  When he closes the door to his room, he is left standing there looking in the mirror.  Looking at the man that he finally realizes he is.  

The next morning, Annette leaves the house (she is staying with Sebastian's Aunt) because she can't bear to face with happened.  After a conversation with Katherine, Sebastian decides that he must go after Annette.  Not because he needs to 'seal the deal' (although that is what he would prefer Katherine to think), but because he truly is in love with her.  He feels bad that he hurt her in such a way.  Sebastian gets into his car and finds out where she is going.  

Enter Counting Crows, Colorblind--and the scene to meet all scenes. Sebastian travels through the city of New York, over some kind of bridge---and to a train station.  Annette gets on the escalator, and takes it to the upper level.  Standing there, at the top of the escalator is Sebastian.  A true grand gesture of love.  

 

Annette and Sebastian have sex for the first time, thus consumating the feelings they've been having for one another. 

 

Following all of these events, Sebastian goes back to Katherine, and explains that he has won 'the bet'.  Katherine, becomes upset, for two reasons: Sebastian has followed through on what he has claimed he could do; and he has fallen in love with a girl who is everything she isn't.  In the moment she realizes this, she threatens to damage both Sebastian and Annette's reputation by exposing the entire situation.  She manipulates Sebastian, by saying the one thing that truly gets him.... 

"People don't change overnight..."

 

Worried that Katherine might be right, Sebastian makes the hasty decision to break things off with Annette.  He explains that she was just a conquest, that he really didn't feel anything for her--and that he messed up.  Deep down, they both know that he is lying---especially as he tries to choke back the tears when he tells her this. 

 

The movie ends, as Sebastian continues to learn of Katherine's manipulative antics.  He realizes that it doesn't matter what happens, as long as Annette knows that he is the person she thinks he is---and that he loves her.  He makes a copy of his most prized possession (his journal), and gives it to Annette.  She reads it, and finally understands who he is.  Feeling some kind of forgiveness, she takes to the streets of NYC after she sees him outside her bedroom window.  Meanwhile, as he is walking down the street (away from Annette's apartment building), another character (who fits in with the manipulations of Katherine) attacks Sebastian on the street.  A fight ensues, and Annette attempts to stop it.  She ends up being thrown in the street by the other gentleman, and Sebastian throws himself in front of a cab in order to save her (which is sort of dramatic, yes).  He tells Annette he loves her with his last dying breath--and she admits that she loves him too.

At Sebastian's funeral, Katherine and Annette exchange words---both acting as if they don't know who the other is. 

Enter the Verve's Bittersweet Symphony, and Sebastian's revenge on Katherine.  Annette has made copies of Sebastian's journal, and the entire student body of their school reads it---in addtion to all the attendees of Sebastian's funeral.  In the end, Katherine is hated by all, because they realize that she is deceitful, manipulative and selfish.  Moreover, she ends up alone--and Annette ends up driving off, with a sweet smile of satisfaction plastered on her face. 

What can we learn from this interesting (and probably forgotten) teen movie from the 90's?  The first lesson, is that the things that we think aren't always good for us,  might just be fine.  The truth of the matter is, you never know until you give it a chance.  There is always the chance we could get hurt.  Getting hurt by taking a chance is always a possibilty.  Sometimes you just have to let yourself let go.

Another lesson we can learn: our lives are not directed by John Hughes (Thank You Easy A).  While this film wasn't directed by John Hughes, and it's a lot darker than anything John Hughes ever directed, the concept is there.  Love, is not that easy.  Ryan Phillipe does not show up at a train station and wait for us at the top of the escalator.  However, as females---we have the right to dream.  In dreams, and in love there are no impossibilities.

Lastly, we must know, that even though we might want (them) to---people don't change overnight.   

For the past month and a half I have been writing about becoming a new person.  I have a new hair cut and I see a therapist (which is hard for me to admit here, because you all are aware that I'm a hot mess).  The complete and honest answer is, I just keep existing as I am--making the changes as I see fit.  The biggest, and most important change I want to make, just isn't happening---and it's a constant obsession.  When I am not thinking about him or the situation at hand, I am thinking about how much I hate the way I look.  Yesterday I went to a party with a friend of mine.  I got all dressed up, and put make up on.  I felt good when I left work.  Once I saw myself in the mirror, I hated the way I looked.  I thought in my head "No wonder why he didn't want you anymore....go back and look at your pictures throughout the past six years." I'm not sure how to stop hating myself. 

People don't change overnight.

Jump Back, Flash Forward

A little girl and a tall boy stand in a deserted street just after 1am.  It's one of those cold nights.  Not one where you can't stand outside for too long---no it's one of those damp, crisp cool nights.  Reminiscent of Friday Night Lights, and high school football.  You can see your breath, but there's something magical in the air.

On this particular night, there is both magic and sadness in the air.  The stars are shining brightly, clear as a pair of pristine diamond earrings.  She looks at him, tears in her eyes.  He looks at her, with shades of comfort behind his crystal blues.  A long, loving embrace is exchanged---and assurances that the time apart would go quickly.  She kisses him goodbye, and gets in her little red car....left to drive home and dream of the next time they meet.

Six Years Later

He loads her car up in the pouring rain.  Dog, duffel and all.  She stands there with tears in her eyes--and looks at him.  The stars are not shining.  He doesn't look at her.  In fact he avoids her stare, just so he doesn't have to feel what she's feeling.  He kisses her forehead, and walks away---shutting the door behind him.  She gets in her black car, left to drive back home---thinking of where she went wrong.

One Week Later

She loads her car up...dog duffel and all.  It's pouring rain, and again there are no stars.  Funny how Mother Nature seems to follow our feelings...almost as if we were caught in a movie. He isn't there. There are tears in her eyes, but he made sure he wasn't there to see them. She gets in her black car, left to drive back home again, thinking she was such a fool for believing in love.

1.5 Month(s) Later

She drives home listening to music.  It's one of those crisp cool nights.  She could see her breath when she walked to her car, but she wasn't sure there was something magical in the air.  She drives home, looking at the patchy sky dotted with stars.  How beautiful for a December.  As she parks in her old spot, she walks across the lawn---wishing he were there in the driveway waiting for her.  Alas, he is not, and the reality sets in yet again.  She curses her heart for wanting his love, for missing and loving him.  She applauds her brain for giving her strength to move on.

In the end, she's going to be okay--but for now, she's still a bit broken.   

Sometimes there's 'good' in goodbye...

Yesterday, I sat here for two hours thinking about how I could compress all of my thoughts into one swift blog.  I wrote three paragraphs, deleted two.  Re-wrote those two paragraphs, deleted the entire thing. Yesterday, was not a blog writing day. 

So, today, yes today is a blog writing day.  

Since we are somewhat on the subject, I'd like to try something new.  Think about every single thing you did today.  Maybe you got up, went to the gym, went to work---did your thing at work and then came home.  What motivated you to get out of bed this morning?  What motivates you to go to work or do your laundry?  When you think of motivation, there are many ways that we are motivated to complete the necessary day-to-day tasks.  It's fascinating because the very thing motivating you to read this blog, is not the same as the drivers behind you eating a sandwich for lunch.  Yes, that's a given.  Some motivators are inherent, while others are desires that we have perhaps accumulated through habit.  It's simple.  Nature vs. Nurture.  Despite that, as human beings, I find that we all struggle with motivation on some levels.  Even when you look at behaviors motivated by both nature and nurture.  So right now, what motivate you--might not motivate you in the future.  

Two weeks ago, I signed up to run a 10k.  Now, most of you who know me, know that I am, by no means a runner.  I can do the elliptical, and at one time in my life was extremely motivated to the point where I was working out every single day.  In college I would run up the 13 flights of stairs to our dorm room.  I am not certain what happened, and cannot fully explain when it happened.  Over the course of the past 6 years, I gained over 50 pounds.  A time period went by where I was able to lose weight.  Then I gained it back.  I lost weight, then gained it back.  In my lifetime, i've never been perfect--but at the same time, I have never had issues like this.  As time went on, I would end every single week saying 'Starting Monday, I am going to diet and exercise--Sunday is my last hoorah.'  Then it would continue on and on and on and on. 

So, what motivates me now?

It's sad for me to admit.  The very thing that is motivating me now, is the very thing that has been causing me pain for the past month.  It's the pain that forces me to move on.  It's a simple truth; we cannot let our pain consume us--because if we do, it's like letting our soul die.  So we push forward, and we try to focus our energy elsewhere because the very thing that we once put all of our energy into, is gone. 

In this case, I am coming to find that there is good in goodbye.  As much as I'm missing companionsip and affection, two things that I am so afraid I will have a hard time finding--I know that I need to push on and set goals for myself. 

So, I have vowed to start slowly, and start off small.  Running, running away from my past---and running toward my future.  It's all I can do....and I know how to do for now.

For those of you who struggle with the same motivation issues as I do--my advice is this:

Run towards something that challenges you.  Makes you a better person, scares you and excites you all at the same time.

I guarantee, if you do that---you're going to feel so much more whole.

A.