tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525154004394323442023-11-15T22:52:43.339-08:00i heart things and thingsthis is pretty much more than anyone would ever want to know about everything ever going on in my life which includes, but is not limited to endless love affairs with things, depression, baking, tattoos and general crap. i love mostly everything ever and i have no shame or filter on things i say or do. good luck with that.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comBlogger432125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-73416034127052363502018-05-12T20:27:00.001-07:002018-05-12T20:27:11.337-07:00A timestamp on grief<p dir="ltr">When will mine stop?</p>
<p dir="ltr">One of my most favourite people in the world, and someone who has been in my life, cheering me on for what feels like forever now, sent me a link yesterday. It was a link about having a dead mother and deciding to take mother's day back. To stop lamenting the loss of a mother and to rejoice the fact that she existed and created me. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Everyone knows the cross i hang myself on every year: dead mother, hate everyone, complain online and to anyone who will listen.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I've tried to ease up on the usual misery over the past year, only quietly mourning her on her birthday and death day and mother's day. I holed myself up, alone, and missed her silently with pictures and songs and spritzes of her perfume. I posted single photos accompanied by diatribes that modestly expressed my grief in a way that was both socially acceptable, But cathartic for me.</p>
<p dir="ltr">But for some real special reason this year is hitting me in a catastrophic way. I've been crabby as fuck, heart-hurt, and trapped in my own head for weeks. My poor boyfriend has dealt with the brunt of emotions that are so accelerated that I have no means of even understanding how to deal with them, and for that, I am eternally grateful. He's taken my outrageous moodiness with great stride and I love him too the ends of the earth.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So when I decided I was prepared to read this article sent with the best intentions, I was on my boyfriend's bed, watching him happily play his favourite video game, cuddling his cat, and smoking a cigarette. I was still reeling from a real exciting panic attack I had had for the previous twenty-four hours that saw me not leave my bed but to smoke and use the toilet literally for an entire day. But i had composed myself enough to convince my brain that I was strong enough to read it. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I was not. </p>
<p dir="ltr">It opened with so much promise...</p>
<p dir="ltr"><b>"My dear fellow motherless humans of the world, I am here to announce that this year we are taking back Mother’s Day, dammit."</b></p>
<p dir="ltr">I felt a brief moment of empowerment. I felt, for just a second, that i might finally be able to take this day and make it mine. That i might be able to stop aching, even if for just the one twenty-four hour period. I felt like i might be able to wake up on Sunday and not hate every single human who had an alive mother. </p>
<p dir="ltr">But then it was gone. I lost all hope that tomorrow might be okay with one paragraph that forced huge, fat tears out of my eyes that I let fall silently, because I was humiliated by my sudden spurt of emotion. </p>
<p dir="ltr"><b>"She’d want you to kick Mother’s Day in the ass and then make out with it. She’d want you to have a fucking wonderful day. The best day. One she’d love to hear about on the phone at night while she simultaneously watched Wolf Blitzer, cooked dinner and snapped at you to 'stop cussing so much, jeez.'"</b></p>
<p dir="ltr">It hurt my heart because I haven't been able to talk to my mother on the phone in thirteen years. That paragraph made me remember that I forgot what my mother's voice sounds like and I'll never, ever hear it again because she's dead and the one voicemail my sister had of her voice was accidentally deleted. </p>
<p dir="ltr">It made me remember the last phone call I had with my mother, in the middle of the British night. A phone call that she was completely incoherent for, desperately shouting over the machines that were keeping her alive, telling me that she loved and missed me. A phone call which ended with her nurse getting on the phone to tell me that she was just a little loopy from her medication and that she'd be fine if I called back in a few hours. A phone call that was followed a couple of hours later by another phone call from my sister, telling me that our mother was dead. </p>
<p dir="ltr">It sounds so stupid and petulant, even as i type this, that I am still clutching onto mourning my mother's death after more than a decade, but it's there. A burning pain in the pit of my stomach, because she's gone. Just gone. and there's nothing that I can do to bring her back.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The article suggested I make the day my own and care for myself like I would have cared for my mother, but I won't have that chance. Partly because I still insist on letting the day destroy me, but also because i have to literally work all day. </p>
<p dir="ltr">There won't be breakfast in bed, flowers, manicures, margaritas, or movie marathons. There will be me, sitting in a liquor store, trying my hardest to ignore the fact that not only is my mother dead, but also that the baby that was going to make me a mother, that was supposed to have been born in the next few weeks, is also dead. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Oh, hey double whammy. </p>
<p dir="ltr">So here I sit, knowing that in a few hours it will be a day rejoiced by so many, but completely dreaded by me. In a few hours I'll have to face the photos and posts of people receiving and giving flowers and presents and love to someone when I have nobody to give to or receive from. A day that is completely ignored as a day of remembrance for people who have lost their mothers or children. A day that makes me want to die more than most days because it feels like everyone is shoving my nose in a mess that i had no hand in creating and would take back in an instant for just five more minutes. For just one more chance to hear her voice. For just one more pregnancy symptom. </p>
<p dir="ltr">So for the love of god, love your mothers tomorrow. Love them for the people that don't have mothers anymore. Love them even if you're angry with them. Love them and be gentle to the ones who have nobody to love.</p>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-42039717026836408282018-05-10T19:39:00.000-07:002018-05-10T19:41:58.024-07:00You're like a 4 and I'm a solid 8A direct quote, said completely in jest, by my magical boyfriend. <br />
<br />
But it's true. <br />
<br />
Like,
this boy is the boy that I've dreamt about my entire life. He looks
like someone I created a'la Weird Science, hidden in my basement,
cutting out all my favourite things and pasting them together, hoping
for a lightning storm. Gigantic, blue eyes, Perfect moustache, tattoos
in all the right spots, and a smile that could cause polar melting to
rival global warming. He's so tremendously brilliant and challenges my mind daily. And oh does he make me laugh. He's a dream come true.<br />
<br />
But can we also discuss how my life is a
nightmare because the boy that I am in love with, and who is in love
with me, is at least doubly more attractive than me?<br />
<br />
I feel like I
can never settle, like I constantly have to push myself to the brink of
exhaustion so that he doesn't have the chance to see me as anything but
valuable and at best, moderately attractive. I tear myself apart when I have acne breakouts, almost exclusively wear black in hopes that it will shroud the parts of my body that I am still humiliated by, and get coloured dry shampoo so that he can't see how horrible my hair really is. <br />
<br />
Because what if he
realizes one day that I'm NOT that special or worth it? What if the
right girl randomly adds him on Facebook or Instagram and she says all
the right things and looks exactly how the perfect girl has always
looked in his imagination? What if I lose him?<br />
<br />
And i must be
clear that this boy, he's limitlessly reassuring. He holds me even more
fiercely when I'm in sweats and a tank tank top with no makeup and
rats-nest hair than when I'm fully made up. He reminds me I'm beautiful
all the time. He makes me feel so tremendously sexy. And most of the time I don't even have to ask him, he just hands me beautiful love on a silver platter every day. <br />
<br />
But also? <br />
<br />
I
was gifted with the magic of sight and I can see my reflection in the
mirror, guys. Not only that, but I can also see the massive hoards of
girls that he's spent years amassing on social media for whatever reason
he has. Maybe it's because he's an insatiable flirt and likes to make
people feel good and keep his options open. Maybe it's because he needs
the constant validation from people that he is indeed as gorgeous as he
is. Maybe it's both<br />
<br />
Whatever the reason is, it sets a jumping
point for my neurosis to just go bananas about how I certainly am not as
attractive as nearly even half of them. I don't have perfectly winged
eyeliner (because I can't afford to shop at the places that sell that
high quality of stuff), I don't wear dresses that are excellently kitsch
and adorable and alternative (because I'm too fat and my wallet is too
thin to shop really anyplace but Wal-Mart or Goodwill), and I don't have gorgeously
groomed hair constantly (because I have a family history of having
terribly thin, disappointing hair in general). <br />
<br />
So I'm fucked. I
just tear myself apart constantly via the multitude of rabbit holes that
I fall down, obsessing over all the details that I've desperately
dreamed of having for myself my entire life. To be the effortlessly
cool, alternative, so-terribly gorgeous girl that all these other girls
are. I fall daily, sometimes multiple times a day, into holes whose walls are etched with all the things that are wrong with me compared to every other girl who my crazy mind thinks deserves this beautiful human more than me.<br />
<br />
<br />
From the first moment I saw him I knew that there was no way that I would ever deserve him. I never in my life thought that a boy who was as stunning and special as he is would even consider looking in my direction. And no matter how many times he reassures me that he is mine and nobody else stands a chance, I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.<br />
<br />
Because what is so special about me? I am kinda funny sometimes, I crochet really well, my drawings are pretty mediocre, and I have a kind heart, sure. But have you seen my face? My body? I may have lost almost a hundred pounds, but I have gained this really, unbelievably hideous insecurity that I can't seem to shake. I still don't feel like I am good enough, and the bits of me that clearly display the years of abuse to my body (my stupid, fat arms, my chubby belly, and my double chin, to name a few) are a glaring reminder of why I don't deserve this creature's love. And I don't feel strong enough to fight my way out of this situation by myself either. Or like I'm worth someone fighting this fight with me.<br />
<br />
I have never in my life felt mercilessly desirable or like I was the most special human in another person's life. I have never felt like there was someone that just couldn't live without me because they loved me <i>that much</i>. So despite the fact that I have this person in my life that loves me, I can't seem to accept it. I can't shake the fact that I am very much just a four.<br />
<br />
A four who is waiting for everyone to realize that she is not even good enough for even that rating. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-45900454812715579282018-02-07T11:39:00.001-08:002018-02-07T11:39:54.547-08:00I'm a Dang Unicorn<div align="left" align="left" ><p dir="ltr">So I was drunk. Smoking, standing outside of a bar talking to a stripper. Sounds like the beginning to a really hilarious detailed joke, but it definitely isn't. <br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" ><p dir="ltr"><br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" align="left" ><p dir="ltr">It's the beginning of a story about one of my nights last week. <br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" ><p dir="ltr"><br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" align="left" ><p dir="ltr">Three beautiful boys, who have become some of my most favourite people in the past couple of months, were inside the bar pulling their lives together enough to bumble out to the car to go to our respective homes and fall into a drunken sleep, but I was standing in the falling snow with a lit cigarette in between my freshly-tattooed fingers, talking to a stripper. I was drunk and filled with such a great amount of happiness and peace that I thought I might burst. <br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" ><p dir="ltr"><br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" align="left" ><p dir="ltr">I remember at one point, as I was standing there, I made a comment for at least the fifteenth time that night that I loved snow because it looks like glitter falling from the sky. I said that comment to the stripper and a random man standing to my left as I threw my head back, leaned against the building, and took a drag of my cigarette. I inhaled that menthol as deeply as I could and closed my eyes as tightly as they would, taking in the moment that I was having. This moment where I was freezing, but warmed by the copious amounts of beer and love that I had in me. This moment where I was happily letting snow moisten my glasses because it made the lights look like prisms in my line of sight. This moment where I was being told, for the third time that night, what a valuable, beautiful human I was, and that despite the things that have been done to me in the past or recently by people? I'm still worthy of love and don't need to place my worth in that. <br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" ><p dir="ltr"><br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" align="left" ><p dir="ltr">My constant go-to when talking about my most recent breakup is that I am working to fix me. I am taking time with myself to make me a more complete and fantastic human. <br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" ><p dir="ltr"><br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" align="left" ><p dir="ltr">So I recited those lines for the millionth time in the course of the past month to the stripper and guy that I was standing next to (<i>I feel it must be noted probably now that said stripper is one of my friends who is just gracious enough to dance to basically any song I want, so the night was spent watching her red hair and boobies on stage swinging to Blind Melon and Marcy Playground and Hanson, much to the misery of the other patrons of the strip club, but to the complete and utter delight of myself and my boys.</i><i> I love her dearly and am very grateful to have her in my life.</i>) as I mused about the last boy I shared my home with. It wasn't an angry conversation, or even a conversation filled with any kind of sadness; just a conversation. I talked about how grateful I am for the nine months I had with him, I talked about what a beautiful person he is and how I hope that nothing but gorgeous things happen in his life because that is what he deserves. And then I moved on to talk about all the fantastic things that I deserve. <br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" ><p dir="ltr"><br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" align="left" ><p dir="ltr">Because I realize that now. I have reached this place over the past several weeks that is made almost entirely of so much peace and I can't help but find myself falling back into the mentality of Danie from fourteen years ago... Nineteen years old, aqua-blue hairs, always on the lookout for an adventure and laughing about/relishing every single moment that she has been gifted with the kind of excitement you would only find from a little kid on their birthday (<i>but in my case, the birthday would be Nicholas Cage themed, catered by PBR and Rumplemints and would result in every party goer leaving covered completely in glitter</i> <i>and </i>breath<i> </i><i>that </i>smel<i>led </i><i>like </i>Christ<i>mas</i>). There was never a moment that nineteen year-old Danie didn't find something to be grateful for. Not one second passed that she didn't have a reason to fall in love with life.<br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" ><p dir="ltr"><br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" align="left" ><p dir="ltr">And now? Fourteen years later? I feel like I am finding that Danie again. It started in little spurts that I hardly even noticed at first. I would find myself in another petty argument with the ex-boy and rather than taking my mind to a hideous place and being hateful to myself or to him, I would click into positive, beautiful ways to resolve the argument so that we could both end up with smiles on our faces. I would come into work with a sense of complete and utter excitement about the people that I would get to meet and new things I would get to learn, rather than a sense of dread for having to trudge through yet ANOTHER day of selling my soul for a paycheck. <br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" ><p dir="ltr"><br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" align="left" ><p dir="ltr">And now, today, it's become a fully-fledged thrill for existing. I find myself excited to write and draw and crochet and can't believe how much I have begun smiling again. It's been such a really beautiful transition to have gone through almost completely by accident. <br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" ><p dir="ltr"><br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" align="left" ><p dir="ltr">I think that accident finally snapped into place last week at the bar. After my stripper friend went inside, far too cold to continue enjoying the snow as much as I was, the guy who had been quietly standing to my left for the previous fifteen minutes piped up, "<i><b>You know, I don't like that you feel like you need to fix yourself because of the way someone treated you</b></i><b>.</b>" To which I became almost instantly defensive because I never saw anything wrong with acknowledging and wanting to repair things that were broken; which I told him. <br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" ><p dir="ltr"><br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" align="left" ><p dir="ltr">His response? "<b><i>What makes you think that there's something broken in you just because someone else couldn't see your worth? You are worthy of love just the way that you are, even if the idiots that you were with before didn't value it. Someday, someone will meet you and love you exactly like you are and you won't have to change a thing. Just imagine how happy you'll be then.</i></b><i>" </i><br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" ><p dir="ltr"><br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" align="left" ><p dir="ltr">And then I was floored. Completely unable to process anything to say in response to him. Why <i>DID</i> I feel like there were pieces of me that were broken because the ex-boy or my ex-husbands couldn't see the value in me? Why was there always something nagging in the back of my brain telling me that I am not worthy or good enough because I was rejected by people who had no idea how to be in the types of relationships that I want to be in (<i>which, to be clear, is not unreasonable. My relationship expectations are actually so wildly reasonable that it is ridiculous</i>)?<br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" ><p dir="ltr"><br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" align="left" ><p dir="ltr">I sat and gaped at this wise, drunk stranger for a few minutes, unable to articulate the cataloging of thirty years of negative self-thought that I was doing in that moment. After sifting through portions of the multitude of thoughts racing through my mind, I snapped out of it, forced this man to hug me, thanked him, and made the decision that I am now running with at full speed. <br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" ><p dir="ltr"><br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" align="left" ><p dir="ltr">I'm fucking valuable. I am a real-live amazing woman who doesn't need anything more than what she has right now. I am enough for the people in my life, and until something more exciting comes along? I am more than enough for me. I'm finding this peace in my own little heart all by myself that is allowing me to grow my confidence, my love, and my insatiable excitement for existing, and I don't think that I could be more delighted about that if I wanted to be. <br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" ><p dir="ltr"><br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" align="left" ><p dir="ltr">I am so unbelievably content most days because I know that I am at peace with me now. I can look in the mirror not hate what I see. I can take a step back and recognize all the goddamned badass shit that I can and do do (<i>lol</i>). I can see all the worth that I have spent the past fourteen years losing in shitty relationships and work and anything else that I could use to excuse letting my heart turn to bullshit. <br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" ><p dir="ltr"><br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" align="left" ><p dir="ltr">That won't happen again. I will not let my personal worth be determined by anyone else but myself. I will stop listening to the hideous things that are said to and about me by people who are angry with me. I will stop placing my value in other people's opinions of me. <br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" ><p dir="ltr"><br>
</p>
</div><div align="left" align="left" ><p dir="ltr">Because I am a dang unicorn anywhere I want to be, and I can see it now.</p>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-19964096135969286972018-01-13T21:51:00.000-08:002018-01-13T21:51:03.168-08:00Feel Everything...<h3 style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 19px; font-weight: normal; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
</h3>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
So I had a miscarriage last month. </div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
No.
There's really no easy way to put that information out there, so I
thought I would just get it out of the way. I had something happen to me
last month that I had never dreamed would happen, that I had no
comprehension of how to handle. I have been thinking about writing this
post and going back and forth on it for weeks now... It's something I've
had no way of understanding how to process and honestly, I chose to
work to ignore because it is such a foreign, scary, painful thing for
me. But I need to get it out. I have been holding it in for a little longer than I should have, and the time has come...</div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
Near
the end of October I suddenly couldn't stop eating and my tits got huge
and I literally couldn't stop crying. I hadn't given it any thought
until my fifth day in a row crying at work, when my co-worker told me
that she was going to go get me a test because it was ridiculous that I
hadn't even considered the possibility of being pregnant. The following
week I took eight tests. I obsessively took tests. Each little line got
darker and darker with every test and after the eighth? It was decided.
Danie was pregnant. </div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
If
you know me, you know that having a baby is basically something my
little heart has wanted for years and after the first test, and the
third, and the seventh, my quiet excitement came roaring to a head and I
was almost giddy. </div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
The
following weeks turned into total excitement... everyone at work was
thrilled and brought me gifts and snacks and giggled with me about the
little thing that was happening in my belly. We spent weeks musing about
baby names and what colour its hairs would be and what adorable things I
would crochet for it. </div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
Every
day when I went home I was plagued by fear, though. The fear of what my
sisters would say and the fear of what the boy would say. He was so
violently against babies and pregnancy that I was certain he would
immediately leave and I'd never see him again when I told him. But there
was only so long that I could find excuses for not drinking before he
started to suspect something more than, "I'm trying to be more healthy,"
and "I've decided I've just been hitting it too hard, so I need to take
a break."</div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
I
went for a real test in a real doctor's office and they confirmed what
all those little pink and blue lines had been telling me for weeks. The
boy knew why I was going to the doctor, so when I got home he was
sitting on the sofa, looking gorgeous as can be in the morning sunlight, waiting for an answer. I came in smiling, still
delighted with the excited baby conversations I'd had with my friend on
the way home from the doctor, The smile on my face that held so much
promise of a tiny creature that I could grow and love for me, meant something
different to him; he had interpreted it differently. He thought the
smile brought the promise of nothing growing inside of me and everything
staying the same as it was. </div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
But there <i>was </i>something
inside of me. And it was half his and half mine and when I told him, I
saw part of him break. He got up and went for a walk almost immediately
and I was left alone and reeling with my own thoughts. If he would come
home, if he would talk to me about it, if things would ever be the same
again.</div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
Three
hours later he came home with a bottle of my favourite cola and sat
with me. He played video games and we didn't talk. Not even one word. We
sat in silence as we went about our night. </div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
And
then, in the middle of an episode of South Park, he grabbed my hand and
tangled his fingers with mine. In that instant, a wave of relief washed
over me that was so heavy that even thinking about it right now, two
months later, it still makes my heart hurt. That moment of solid love
that I felt, knowing that despite all the fears he had, he was there?
That's what I needed in that moment. It washed almost every last bit out
fear out of my heart and gave me a safe place to feel even more
comfortable and excited about the idea of the thing that was happening
inside of me.</div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
We
then spilled into weeks of talking about baby names and what we would
teach it and what sex we preferred and what ideals we wanted to instill
in it and how if it was a girl it would never be let out of the house.
We laid in bed and talked about what would happen if we didn't work out
as a couple, and how we would make it work. We talked about
immunizations and religion and sports we would teach it. </div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
Then
our pets found out. Suddenly, one day, they both became obsessed with
laying on my belly. The cat walked up to me and laid his head and paws
on my belly and the boy said, without even a second thought, "he's
cuddling the baby," and my heart melted. Because no matter what was
going to happen with us, I had those brief, fleeting moments of beauty
that every girl imagines being a part of after watching too many romantic movies or reading too
many books. </div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
No
sooner had those words been spoken, though, things became complicated. I
started to bleed. A lot. I started feeling more sick than I had before,
and more tired, and more scared. And even then, on the scariest night?
He was there. </div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
And then he wasn't. </div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
The
day I lost the baby, I had never been more terrified. I had spent
several of the days prior to that day in the hospital with things being
poked into me and blood being taken out of me and tears falling for fear
of whatever was happening. My sisters were there, but I preferred to be
by myself, often not telling anyone where I was so I could process what
was or wasn't happening to this little thing that I had become
accustomed to in the previous fourteen weeks.</div>
<div style="border: 0px none; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px none currentcolor; padding: 0px;">
I
was fourteen weeks and three days pregnant, and I was in the hospital
by myself waiting. I was sitting with an overly chatty woman who refused
to sit in any seat unless it was immediately next to a random stranger
and who was super into telling every minuscule detail of her life to anyone
who would occasionally glance in her direction. I was sitting with an
elderly woman who had fallen and ended up with literally half of her
body completely bruised. I was sitting with the overwhelming weight of
the world on my shoulders, knowing something wasn't right. </div>
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And
then it was gone. The baby was gone and I had no idea how to do
anything but cry. For days. I holed up in my house and refused to talk
to most people and cried until there were no tears left to cry.</div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
My
yet-to-be-named baby was the size of a lime. I spoke of it with such
great promise and excitement for what I was finally going to be able to
experience. I felt giddy and looked forward to my upcoming
appointment—the one in which I’d hear my little one’s heartbeat and see
it's little body for the first time.</div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
It
is a deep and terrifying experience to lay helplessly splayed out and
bottomless with a technician sitting silently on a rolling stool feeling
around and looking for answers amidst the muted room. I stared at the
dimly-lit wall to my left and cried because I couldn't see anything on
the screen. I couldn't see the little dark smudge I had seen the weeks
prior. I couldn't see anything. I know I'm not a professional, but I
know what was missing from the screen, and it was the tiny creature that
I had been working carefully to create for the previous fourteen weeks.</div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
I
couldn’t stop myself from breaking the silence. “<i>Is it gone?</i>” My voice
shook, not wanting to face my reality. She didn't even offer a cursory,
"<i>I'm not able to answer that question because I'm just a technician.</i>"
She was silent, and with that silence came all the answers that I
needed. It was gone and so was all the hope that I had built up over the
past couple of months.</div>
<div style="border: 0px none; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px none currentcolor; padding: 0px;">
Back
in the hospital room, my sister sitting next to me in her glittery
Christmas jumper, which seemed entirely offensive, given the
circumstances, the doctor returned and started saying things... </div>
<div style="border: 0px none; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px none currentcolor; padding: 0px;">
<i>"Just not viable."</i></div>
<div style="border: 0px none; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px none currentcolor; padding: 0px;">
<i>"You didn't do anything wrong, the body is just very aware of what will and won't work."</i></div>
<div style="border: 0px none; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px none currentcolor; padding: 0px;">
<i>"Future pregnancies are still possible."</i></div>
<div style="border: 0px none; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px none currentcolor; padding: 0px;">
<i>"Drink lots of water."</i></div>
<div style="border: 0px none; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px none currentcolor; padding: 0px;">
And
all I could think was that I had left a lamp on at home and I needed to
not be in that room anymore. I needed to be out of that room and
building. </div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
I had kept all the photos of each pregnancy test (<i>the ones I took because OMG
I needed to show SOMEONE, ANYONE what was happening, because I couldn't
talk to the boy about it in the first weeks that I knew.</i>) Up until a
week ago, eight photos had been lurking on my phone as a painful
reminder of what I lost every time I would go into my gallery to show
someone a photo of the pup or my dead piglet. Eight photos that stabbed
me right in the heart with their little pink and blue lines.</div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
I have no idea why I had kept them. Maybe it's because they were a reminder to me that I was able to get pregnant, and get pregnant again. Maybe I just wans't able to let go of the reminder that I was at one point. </div>
<div class="m_-5763655502516087994m_-1559767419872987728gmail-FIOnDemandWrapper" id="m_-5763655502516087994m_-1559767419872987728gmail-FIOnDemandWrapper_fiInstance_99993_0_6653509" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; height: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 5px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px;">
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</div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
Seven
days later, on Christmas Day, I deleted the two pregnancy applications
on my phone, unsubscribed from the pregnancy newsletters that I read
daily, and deleted the week-to-week countdown on my personal calendar. I
didn’t need the sad notifications reminding me of what could’ve been. I
stopped replying to people's messages asking me how I was feeling, how I
was coping, if I was eating. I stopped thinking about it completely. I needed to move forward. I was pretending to be strong and doing what I felt I needed to do. </div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
I
kept the eight pictures of the positive pregnancy tests that it took to
convince me I was expecting and stored them on my phone until a week
ago, then I decided that everything needed to be deleted just as if this
had never happened—as if this baby had never existed.</div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
As
I attempted to erase the painful details that accompanied this
experience, my symptoms faded. My bloated tummy, my tender breasts, the
constant wave of nausea, and my ability to smell literally anything from
a mile away all disappeared as I came to grips with my boyfriend moving
out and learning how to live alone again.</div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
I
cried every day for six days. And then the tears suddenly stopped. I
stopped crying for the baby and for all the loss that I had been carrying
with me. I work to stay as busy as possible. I throw myself into my job,
my crafts, and my friends in an effort to not have to think about the
the loss. </div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
But
every so often, I think about it. I feel sad and sometimes still cry as
I stumble across a toy someone bought for it, or a thoughtful text that
was sent to me wishing me a healthy and happy pregnancy.</div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
I read an article the other day by a woman who had lost her baby and her words put my mind at ease. Made it more simple for me think about what happened without being terrified of what it would stir up...</div>
<div>
<div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<b>"It’s
okay to run and find a private place to ball your eyes out because one
more person announced their pregnancy 'while they weren’t even trying.'
It’s okay to feel shameful for your reaction, all while sharing in their
joy.</b></div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<b>It’s
normal to feel sorrow in between the happy moments of your life. It’s
okay to feel frustrated when women continuously ask when you’re going to
have a baby because 'you’re not getting any younger.' They don’t know
your story. I used to be that woman who so carelessly and ignorantly
asked that very personal question.</b></div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<b>Feel everything.</b></div>
<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans",Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<b>Know
that it’s fine to miss someone you never met. Know that there are no
rules to this thing. It’s simply okay to not be okay sometimes. It’s
okay to <i style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">do you</i>." </b></div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-19081308673462657362018-01-07T22:05:00.000-08:002018-01-07T22:05:09.547-08:00cold to warm to cold...I met him when it was cold. I was wearing a jumper brandishing an elk
skull in the chilly weather of early April in Wyoming. For the weeks
after I met him I would spend days tucked into layer upon layer of
leggings and trousers and undershirts to keep the bitter chill of three
feet of snow and wind outside of me rather than inside. My layers and I
would walk the several blocks to his apartment, stomping through the
glittery snow, wildly anticipating the moments I would get to look at
his face, hear his voice, and see what was in store for our time
together. I had missed the cold so much and adored that Wyoming had
decided to love me enough to gift me so much snow within the first few
months of me returning to it, that my cold months after meeting him were
doubly perfect.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
His apartment was always warm. He
would let me in and I would strip off layer after layer whilst telling
him about my day or hearing about his. We rarely went on adventures
outside of his apartment in the cold weeks, instead, we snuggled in for
movie nights and cracking open cold ones, sometimes just the two of us,
sometimes his friends would join us. It was always an adventure and
always different. Music that filled his heart the most would travel with
the much-needed warm air between the yellow walls of his apartment
whilst I cooked gigantic meals. We would sing off-key to all the most
sad and angsty songs until I served our meals up and we would sit and
watch shitty tv and learn about one another. We slowly discovered the
little things that made one another giggle and cry and swell with love.
We mused over the things that we had in common and play fought about our
differences. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I spent those cold weeks carving
my new self out of ice, anticipating new growth as the spring shifted
both outside and inside my body. I carefully monitored my mind and my
heart, along with the newly budding sweetpeas outside my living room
window, waiting to see what gorgeous things were going to shoot forth
with the upcoming changes in the weather. What colour would they be? How
gorgeous were their blooms going to come out? How long would it take
for them to achieve full growth?<br /><br />We then spent weeks in the
sweltering heat of his downtown studio apartment. We would spend hours
tangled, sweaty limb entwined with sweaty limb, refusing to let go
because holding one another was so much more important than relieving
ourselves of the staggering heat that had overtaken our bodies. Our
only movement was our toes gently tickling the other's foot, so as to
not exacerbate the already overwhelming warmth our bodies had been
filled with. Every now and again, a tickle would cause a spasm that
would radiate through one of our bodies from our feet and end in a
gentle glance and smile between one another, knowing that was exactly
where we were supposed to be at that very moment.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The
melodic tunes and tear-filled lyrics of one band or another floated
through the air and he would sing the words to me with every bit of
conviction that he had inside of him, occasionally pretending to burst
into tears, which would throw us into laughing fits lasting the entire
night. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My heart was filled with such an
abundance of warmth that I had a legitimate fear that it would burst
into flames at any given time, which would only be natural given the
ridiculous dry heat that Wyoming chose to bestow upon us. We would dream
about trips we wanted to go on together, people we wanted the other to
meet, and films we desperately wanted to watch together.<br /><br />and
it's cold again. Not just in the air, but in my heart. It sounds so
stupid to say aloud, or rather type, but it's true. In the morning I
need to put on extra layers of cloth on my limbs and strength in my
heart. </div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
It's been a month since he moved out and I
am fascinated by the shift that my heart has made in that time, by how
quickly it became icy after being filled with such a tremendous heat for
so many months. I speak to him and there's a corner that still has a
pocket of warm affection for him. I see his name pop up on my phone and I
am instantly sent back to the sweltering summer lying on his bed
between his cats, sleep still in our eyes, words still so, so gentle.
But it is only a momentary warmth before I realize my insides only know
how to ache with his presence. That ache that you get when you have
spent too long waiting at a bus stop in the middle of January. That ache
that permeates beyond your skin, freezing your muscles in place, and
stopping every other function of your body. The primitive response your
body has to save itself by retaining as much necessary warmth as it can.
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But I fear there is very little sustainable warmth
left. I fear that any warmth that might be hidden in the secret spots
of my heart needs to be reserved for myself because I don't think that I
can withstand this again without fixing things. I don't think that I WANT to withstand this again. Too many changes in temperature can destroy something, so I want to cultivate warmth for myself. I want to work on rebuilding that little fire in my heart until it is a roaring blaze that cannot be stifled by anything Something that I have complete control over. </div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
It was the most tremendous, gorgeous nine months of my entire life, and I cannot believe how fortunate I was to have been able to feel the things that I felt, see the things that I saw, and experience the things that I experienced. There was beauty like I have never seen and pain that will undoubtedly haunt me for the rest of my life. I will never be able to look at these past nine months as anything but tremendously valuable, but now? Now it is time for me. Time for me to keep watch of my own heart and tend to the things in it that I need to so that when the spring comes? I will get to find out how
gorgeous those blooms within my heart that only I get to plant are going to come out and how long it take
for them to achieve full growth. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This heart is mine and I will make it through this cold spell by myself and for myself.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-13879129170327918842018-01-07T00:04:00.000-08:002018-01-07T00:04:21.534-08:00i'm going to save my own dang self...A year ago Thursday, I was left. I woke up at four in the morning and
bundled my now ex-husband into a gigantic truck with a thermos full of
hot cocoa and as many snacks as I could fit into a grocery bag. I hugged
him one last time and sent him driving halfway across the country to a
new life that I genuinely hoped would bring him as much joy as he
deserved, which I have discovered was a lot.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A year
ago Thursday, I stood in the calf-deep snow and cried gigantic tears on
the side of the road. The snow was falling around me like I was starring
in a cinematic masterpiece as the heartbroken heroine who's life was
falling apart right there in front of my house, and I bawled in the
freezing cold for fifteen minutes, surrounded by glittery fluff and
freezing cold air. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A year ago Thursday, I
started my new life by myself and thought that I would never survive it.
I spent so many weeks completely allowing myself to deteriorate. I
drank until I couldn't think anymore and let my life fall apart to the
point that the people closest to me were terrified I was going to do
something awful to myself. I let myself fall into a depression whose
depth I had no concept of. I just dropped myself in like a rusty penny
into an endless wishing well and went with whatever was going to happen,
hoping something would catch me and I wouldn't have to do any of the
work. I didn't work to fix things, I didn't push myself to look at what
had brought me to this hideous place, I just plummeted and decided not
to put any safeguards into place that would allow me to rescue myself
were I to have the desire to stop my descent. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And
then I met someone, many someones, who saw me, maybe didn't realize I
was falling, but rescued me anyway. They scooped a girl up and
unknowingly saved her. I had my airs of sassy drunk sadness that made
people laugh and want to spend time with me, despite the serious
undertones that existed in what they perceived as jokes about
self-hatred and suicide. We drank and giggled about how much we hated
people and became a safety net for each other and all the hatred soon
faded and turned into laughter. I found myself crying much less
frequently than I laughed and felt grateful, so genuinely grateful for
these people that had stumbled into my life.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I
had a depressed beauty that drew a fellow sad human to me late one
Friday night in April. A fellow sad human that I immediately felt a
kinship with because his self-created purgatory of misery seemed almost
identical to mine. We became almost instantly inseparable and I fell
madly in love with his gentle kindness and the way he held me like it
was literally keeping him alive. I allowed myself to forget that I had
things that needed fixing in my heart in lieu of his nasaly voice
singing Conor Oberst to me late into the night as the hot summer heat
rolled in. I forgot that I had work to do in my head because I was so
distracted by his stupid blue eyes and the way his long ginger eyelashes caught his
tears when he unashamedly got too excited about something he felt so
passionately about that he couldn't stop himself from falling to pieces. I couldn't
help but forget that I needed to fix me because the way his hand
clutched onto mine whilst we were together felt so completely like home.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We
spent all of our time reveling in our brokenness by drinking as much as
we could and making so many poor decisions that it is almost staggering
to think about now. It all seemed so beautiful, and even today, as I
sit here and type this, I look back at those nights, windows open, empty beer cans
surrounding our tangled limbs, I smile so sincerely for the love that I
was so, so fortunate to have been able to feel. It felt so completely
simple and raw and real that I never once questioned even a single
moment of it. I only allowed myself to fall entirely into that feeling
so I didn't have to think about anything else. I fell so hard and so suddenly that I had no idea what was happening until it was nearly over.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But
now? A year on from that crying girl on the side of the snowy road? I'm
just a sad girl in a different place and I am completely furious with
myself. Those blue eyes have left, those hands don't reach out and
tickle mine until I lock fingers with them anymore, and that voice hasn't sung to me in many moons. I have suffered a
series of losses that I hate myself for allowing, and I have spent the past
month reflecting on the work I did and didn't do during my divorce and
have realized that I fucked up and robbed myself of the valuable time
that I so badly needed to make my heart whole again by myself because falling for
someone else made everything so much easier. It was so much more simple
for me to focus my energy on loving someone else than to have to learn
how to love myself genuinely and entirely.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So
this year, I have decided is mine. I went into last year with the
intention of living for myself and fixing every broken piece that my
exes and friends and I created within myself, but I let that promise
that I had made to myself, that promise that was so desperately important, fall apart with the flash of that
crooked smile and the promise of a case of cheap beer. </div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
I'm not going to let that happen again. I need to re-learn how to love myself again with the ferocity that I love everyone and everything that I encounter with. I need to stop focusing all of my attention on everything else because it's easier than looking inward and learning to love my broken pieces and fix the ones that are hardest for me to love. I am going to choose to pick myself back up and remember why I am valuable for me, not for anybody else, just for me. I am going to stop putting everything I have into the wrong humans, and cultivate beautiful things that make my heart feel happier. I am going to stop making decisions that are going to hurt and clutching onto hideous things because my romantic heart is so addicted to the idea of holding on. I am going to finally, for once, do this for me and only me and become the strong, fully capable, not-always-crying girl that I know I am worth pushing to be. </div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
I'm going to drop myself down again, but this time, it's going to be down a well lined with as many stunning, amazing, worthwhile things as I can get my paws on. I'm going to plummet until I am whole again. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm going to save my own dang self. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-16347725140507820822017-06-23T06:41:00.001-07:002017-06-23T06:41:52.251-07:00I am not the same person I was...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Z1LbQmi-HpVJeTRLv1fuzf4olMqIW6MBU1cRfe3bSFxutxRFEiLb5_FWXFnDFpiF_IvFwFPhRGArsUINrdklW49Dyt7_2fi2zqDeolvRVqsOW8gpzy0P38BXjcO1C43YHG9HGZcXHa4/s1600/not+the+same.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="564" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Z1LbQmi-HpVJeTRLv1fuzf4olMqIW6MBU1cRfe3bSFxutxRFEiLb5_FWXFnDFpiF_IvFwFPhRGArsUINrdklW49Dyt7_2fi2zqDeolvRVqsOW8gpzy0P38BXjcO1C43YHG9HGZcXHa4/s320/not+the+same.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;">As I stroll through
the different parts of each of my days and nights lately, I find myself baffled
by how my life has completely shifted into something that I had no anticipation
it would. I didn’t wake up the morning of January 4<sup>th</sup>, freezing and
utterly alone for the first time in my life, thinking that everything was going
to be okay. In fact, for dang near a month I wasn’t sure that anything, any
part of my life would ever be okay again. For the entirety of January I went
from my bed to my couch and back to my bed for days at a time, completely lost,
fearful, and emptier than I can ever remember having felt. I would go out
occasionally, usually to bumble the eight blocks to the bar in a trashy
tee-shirt so I could quietly drink myself into a crying mess with minimal
attention.<span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;">I spent almost the
entire month of February with zero confidence in my own strength. There was none.
I spent weeks at a time refusing to leave my house, eat, or socialize. I curled
myself around my puppy in clothes I'd been wearing for what must have been
longer than recommended and watched full seasons of shows I’d seen a billion
times before so that I didn’t need to focus on anything but the ugly situation
that I was allowing myself to spiral further into. February, I thought about
killing myself almost constantly. February, I was certain I had lost every good
part of me that existed, and that it had been replaced exclusively with
gigantic heaps of anger, resentment, and sadness. Most days, if I didn't wake
up crying, I started crying the moment my eyes opened and would cry myself into
a coma and fall asleep for brief periods throughout the day. February was the
furthest I had ever felt from believing that I might have a normal existence
ever again. I believed I was so broken and far gone that there was no fixing
it, so I stopped talking to people, stopped even toying with the idea of a
doctor or medication, and almost completely stopped eating. <span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;">Then there was April.
Suddenly, on a gorgeously sunny Saturday at the beginning of April I decided I
didn’t want to feel broken anymore. I made the conscious decision to be
happier, make healthier choices, and start to mend my own stuff because all the
crying and sad songs in the world weren't going to do it for me. I had sat on
my porch in the rain the previous day in hopes that the water pouring from the
sky would wash away the pain I had been harboring for months. I watched as
gigantic raindrops splashed on the table and was taken by the way they hit my
cherry blossom tree and sent the petals gently gliding to the ground beneath
them. I remember sitting there with my book in my hand praying that the rain
would fall on me and let me start again like those petals…<span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;">I wanted to find a new
purpose, a new me. Much like those petals would eventually be trampled by dogs
and people and snow, compacted and pushed into the ground where they would
provide tiny pink bursts of nutrients to the earth below them, I wanted to
finally give up and stop fighting against myself and everything around me and
fall into something more purposeful and fulfilling. Something that could make
me feel like me again. The me who nourishes people, the me who feels strong, the me who knows how to fix her bad days. I closed my eyes and listened to the rain, wishing harder than I'd ever wished before, that I would be able to find the strength to come through this.<span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;">And so I did. <span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;">That night, I went out
to the bar to see a friend I'd not seen in several years, despite every part of my anxiety and
depression telling me not to. I went out fully expecting to completely hate it
and want to come home immediately. I went out with no makeup, awful hairs, and
looking fully like a lazy slob. My friend and I hugged and I met some incredible new people.
I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning talking to my friend and sharing
photos of cats and puppies with these beautiful new people I had met. I woke up
in the morning with a smile on my face for the first time in I have no idea how
long. And then everything was different. I had decided to say yes to something
I had spent the past four months avoiding. And it was worth it. I took a walk
the next day and felt like I was finally able to breathe again. Like I had been
suffocating myself for years and my lungs were grasping at as much air as
possible to make up for nearly a decade of deprivation. Everything felt
different, looked different, smelled different. I walked and felt the breeze on
my face as I let Andrew Jackson Jihad sing all of my most favourite songs into my
ears; a concert for one as I completely rediscovered what it was to be alive. <span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;">I spent that day in
utter bliss, finally able to see the light at the end of the tunnel that
everyone speaks so highly of. I felt like I had been traveling down that dang
tunnel for forever and the end was finally, finally in sight. And that day fell
into the next week, a week of mending my heart by actively deciding to begin
functioning again like a normal human being. I started cooking meals, not that
I was eating them initially, but I was inviting people to my house and
delighting in watching their faces eat the things I had so lovingly cooked. I
started taking my puppy for walks. I started saying yes to things. I started
going out and meeting people. And have since met some of the most incredible human
beings, probably in the world. Some of them? I literally cannot even imagine my
life without them; I can’t comprehend how I existed before they came into my
life. Before I knew their hugs existed. <span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;">I have spent the past
two months completely, without any hesitation, increasingly happier than I have
ever been in my entire life. I, of course, have had evenings where I’ve had too
much to drink, I’ve had days where I just couldn’t look in the mirror, but at
the end of each of those nights? I have been goddamned thankful for the life that
I have consciously decided to begin forging for myself. I chose to let go of
the resentment, the anger, all the hideous things that I was clutching on to
for dear life. I have spent more nights going to bed with a sore face from
smiling than I ever have in my whole existence. I’ve wasted more mascara from
laughing until I cried than most people could afford. I have hugged more people
in the past three months than I ever did in the past thirty-two years. <span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;">My whole life right
now, despite low moments, can only be described as blissful. Accidentally
blissful, and I am so thankful. I’m thankful for all the old friends who caught me when
I repeatedly threw myself off a metaphorical mountain of emotions. People who
weren’t scared of my ugly depression. I’m thankful for my dog for always
knowing when mommy needed a cuddle and readily giving them out. I’m thankful
for my new friends, who have shown me an entirely new way to laugh, live, and
feel good about myself. And I’m goddamned thankful for myself, for deciding to
take control of my life and make it something that I am not miserable with
anymore. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-71271855494696857682017-03-30T21:57:00.004-07:002017-03-30T22:53:49.909-07:00I thought wrong<p dir="ltr"></p>
<p dir="ltr">I had assumed that because I'm balls-deep into my thirties that I wouldn't have to deal with the agony of growing pains. I thought I had left those unbearable nights lying in bed with every part of my body aching because each one of my cells decided to work overtime to build me in my pre-teens. I thought that I wouldn't have any more nights lying in my bed, tears pooled in my eyeballs, willing my body to just shut down because that would hurt so much less than the heat radiating in my knees and what felt like my shins being pulled apart.<br></p>
<p dir="ltr">I clearly had been mistaken, because then January 2017 happened. The first day of this year was spent like the first days of the previous six years... Snuggled on one end of the couch with my husband on the other end. I gazed at him just as much that day as I did the first day I met him. I watched his face and imagined what it would look like when he got older. I listened to him talk about whatever was playing on the telly and imagined what it was going to be like three days from that moment. I closed my eyes and willed every part of me to remember what it felt like to have this person I'd been in love with for what seems like forever so close to me. In the darkness of my thoughts I sifted through sixteen years of plans, dreams, memories, and emotions. <br></p>
<p dir="ltr">The second day of the year was a flurry of excitement. Our house was full of people who were helping fill a gigantic truck with all of the things I had come to know as OURS. Books and art and records and dishes. Our entire life had been reduced to boxes labeled either "Dane" or "Danie." All the memories I had spent the previous night mulling over had been carefully packed into boxes that had no way of indicating all the years we'd spent loving their contents beyond the clumsy notes written on their sides. <br></p>
<p dir="ltr">And then we drove. During the drive I snuggled my puppy and imagined all the possibilities that we were driving towards. I organized and reorganized the plans and thoughts in my head. I reveled in the excited confidence that I was certain I would experience once the drive had finished. I smiled to myself as I imagined all the things that I would do, watch, listen to, and eat. In that moment I was astronomically proud of the strength that I believed I had built within myself to wade through this mess that we were driving towards. I anticipated no tears, no drawn out dramatics, and no pain. <br></p>
<p dir="ltr">And then the fourth happened. I woke up and immediately lost every tiny speck of courage that I had been clutching onto. It was six in the morning, chubby flakes of puffy snow were falling all around us, the air smelled of all the fireplaces that had been lit the previous night, and I was holding him and hoping that it was cold enough outside that our bodies would freeze together and I'd have just a little more time with him. When he got in the truck I watched him. I saw every move he made as he situated himself to drive away from me. I knew them before he did them, and knew that he was gone, but had I secretly hoped that he'd come out and hug me just one more time. Hoped that he would wrap the arms I spent my entire life pining after around me and place one more kiss on my forehead. But then he drove away and I immediately began to sob heavy, marble-sized tears into the snow. I waited, hoping he would pull back around the corner. I waited and cried for twenty minutes, thinking that maybe he got lost and might still be coming. I cried until I felt the thin glaze of moisture begin to freeze in salty sheets on my face. I waited until I realized that he wasn't coming back. He made his decision and left me. <br></p>
<p dir="ltr">Once I remembered that I had legs that were functional, I waded through the snow back into my house and laid on my bed and sobbed for hours... and the hours turned into a day... and then that day fell into weeks, which turned into a month. The agony that I would come to experience was like nothing I had ever known in my life. I would spend days huddled in blankets, begging for the pain to dull however it could. Praying that the hurt that my heart was feeling would shift to a toothache or a stomachache or a goddamn stab wound. I would have taken anything over feeling like my actual heart was dying. <br></p>
<p dir="ltr">But over the past several weeks, I've realized that it wasn't dying. Parts of it were shifting and growing to take the shape of my new heart. The heart that I have spent years wishing that I had the strength to accept. The heart that cares more about me than everyone else. The heart that I have now decided to begin falling in love with above anything or anyone else. My heart is becoming my own. <br></p>
<p dir="ltr">For the first time in my life I am living alone and it's terrifying and exciting and relaxing and horrific all at once. I have begun to file away the past sixteen years of memories... Placing them carefully on high-up shelves that I have no intention of visiting on a regular basis. I am running the fingertips of my mind over every thought, insecurity, heartache, excitement, frustration, and expectation I've seen over the past several years and taking the pieces that I know I will need and putting the rest away so that I don't need to stare at them anymore. <br></p>
<p dir="ltr">Because I don't <i>NEED</i> to. I am finding myself growing in ways I had never anticipated. I am discovering new hopes and dreams and desires that I had never given so much as a second thought prior to now. I'm caring more for me and my heart than anybody else's. I'm filling my cup up first and not allowing myself to be afraid of what people will think if I don't immediately stop caring for me so that I can care for them. And it's exciting. I am so thrilled with the peace and empowerment that most of my days are filled with now. <br></p>
<p dir="ltr">Sure, there are still days that all I want to do is lie down and cry and replay every destructive memory I have. Days that I beg for a relief from the pain my heart is going through... But those days are coming less and less often, and I know that it is because my heart is finally getting to the place it needs to be for me. Not for anybody else. Just me.        <br></p>
<p dir="ltr">I'm finally growing into the me that I was always meant to be. I'm growing and I plan to take advantage of it as often and with as much delight as I possibly can. </p>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-50631990968344466652016-08-20T13:01:00.002-07:002016-08-20T13:01:12.520-07:00Sometimes
<br />
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Sometimes you just
need to make the best of your situation because it's not always as bad as you
may think it is. Maybe you're stuck in a rut. You may be struggling paying
bills, worrying about your children, hating yourself for getting so
out-of-shape, or dealing with any other variety of ugly shit in your life.
Sometimes, just dragging yourself out of bed and attempting to put real clothes
on seems like Herculean feat. Sometimes, you may feel like you are entirely
alone and have no idea where even start. But struggles at the moment don't HAVE
to mean struggles for the rest of your life.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Do you guys think I
relish waking up every morning to a husband who resents me, a sister who thinks
all the decisions I make are bad, and a stepchild who loves calling me a
"fucking bitch?" Do you think that me feeling like I've lost all of
my closest friends makes me jump for joy every day? </div>
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<br /></div>
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Because in reality,
I wake up some days feeling completely lost. I'm in my own bed, wrapped in my
familiar tartan sheets with my cashmere-soft dog giving me all the warmth he has
to offer, and still, I sometimes feel like I have no idea where I am. I feel like
I'm a stranger in my own life. I will sometimes look in the mirror and see a
complete stranger looking back at me. And I hate that. All of that. </div>
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<br /></div>
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What do I LOVE
though? </div>
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<br /></div>
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Sometimes, my
husband will roll over in the early mornings on a weekend he'd rather sleep in,
our eyes still bleary from another restless night's sleep, trying to adjust to
that beam of hot, Texas sunlight peering in through the tiny crack the curtains
above heads. In those moments he will hold me, kiss my face and tell me not to
worry about making breakfast because he's got it. And it's always the best
fucking breakfast I've ever had. Every time. And sometimes, completely out of
nowhere, he will clutch on to me as if I am his life preserver, kissing my
forehead and reminding me that despite the occasional lull in our marriage, he
is so, so thankful that we've stuck it out.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Sometimes, my
just-discovering-himself step-son will sit and quiz me for hours, as if he is
trying to construct his own mental encyclopedia of all the things I can tell
him about skin, zombies, computers, and the way the world works. And in those
conversations we learn about one another and find one more small fiber of
respect and appreciation for one another. Sometimes, he will offer to help with
the dishes and my incessant compulsion to reorganize our many overflowing
bookshelves, pantry, and fridge. Sometimes, he will do everything he can to
make me laugh because he can see that I need my chin lifted up.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Sometimes, my
blue-eyed, growing-too-fast step-daughter will just text me to tell me she
misses me and all the baking, painting, and Minecraft we do together.
Sometimes, she'll call me just because, and she will tell me all the things
she's learning or looking forward to.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Sometimes, every now
and again, one of my bffs throws me a bone and we talk like miles and months
and years and deaths haven't ripped us too far apart from one another.
Sometimes, they make me feel like they care about the things I'm going through
and struggling with and those times ease a tremendous amount of my stress and
anxiety.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Sometimes, I'll
finish a piece of art, or cook a meal that has superseded the last one as the
new best thing I've ever made. Sometimes, I wake up so energized that I
immediately get to cleaning the kitchen, mopping all of our millions of tiles,
and even find the energy to take a photo of my face that I don't hate.</div>
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<br /></div>
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And sometimes, I
will have to stop myself and really evaluate how many of the small,
hundreds-of-times a day beautiful things fall into my life. The things that are
easy to dismiss because there are "bigger fish to fry." </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
And that's not okay,
guys. I know that. I know that spending more time focusing on minuscule bank
account balances, overdue bills, and how we're going to buy groceries next
doesn't make my heart feel better. Those big things take over some days and I
feel like running and never, ever looking back. But what will that
solve? At the end of the day, I'll find a false sense of relief for about three
weeks and then realize that I am missing all the gorgeous things in my life
because I decided to run from them.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Sometimes, we need
to pause and realize that maybe we're too close to the situation, and that the
mountain of things in front of us isn't made entirely of ugly things. We need
to remember all the people who love us, the fact that we're still alive and breathing,
and that it isn't always as bad as it may seem. I get that occasionally life can get in the way so much that you feel nothing but frustration and disinterest in the things or people you usually love, but that doesn't mean that you just cut them out. If you love playing guitar, fucking find new songs to learn and play them. If you are passionate about cooking, get a new cookbook and find that spark again among the new ingredients and flavours. If you have had someone in your life for almost two decades, go on a freaking date and take time to discover the things that made you fall in love with them in the first place. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Sometimes, it's okay
to just allow yourself be happy and find your way through the shitstorm in
front of you when you have more strength and maybe even an extra hand or two to save
you from getting lost. You aren't alone, even when you feel like you have nobody else that you can rely on for positivity. There are people that love you despite all the things you may hate about yourself, and sometimes, THAT is
enough.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-89364175716451343382015-09-05T15:36:00.000-07:002015-09-05T15:36:34.485-07:00What I've Learned From Moving to Texas... Since moving from the Pacific Northwest to the South. The hot, miserable South, a lot of truths have become evident. We've discovered a ton of things and have spent two long months adjusting to a new life in a new place. Some of the very real truths that have become very clear to us are as follows... <br />
<br />
<br />
<b>You don't need jackets. ever. Except in stores, restaurants, and cinemas</b>... When we were still in Washington and I was going through everything in my house to get rid of stuff I was certain I wouldn't need in El Paso, I kept a few jackets. I kept my favourite jumpers and wooly socks, and cardigans. Then it was one hundred and eleven degrees out. And I thought I was going to die. I threw a gigantic hissy fit and bundled all the warm clothes I had dragged with us into a gigantic heap in the closet of my new (hotter than the surface of the sun) closet. I threw them all in there and glared out the window, hating how viciously I had been ripped from all my warm things with nary the chance to say goodbye. And then we took Molly to the lunch and the cinema (<i>to see Inside Out, which, OMG!</i>). I slapped on a suitably light top and flowy skirt for maximum airflow, only to find myself on the brink of hypothermia at both places. And the near freezing didn't stop there. Anyplace we go immediately reminds us of the Arctic Tundra upon passing into the building. It's scorching hot outside and uncomfortably hot outside, leaving us in the very uncomfortable, stupid position of needing jackets so that we can put them on when we enter buildings. <br />
<b>Bugs are a VERY real thing, yo</b>... Everywhere. There are bugs in every single place we go. McDonald's? Yup. Walmart? Yup. Friend's houses? Absolutely. They are in every single place ever, and they fucking take over everything you love. Are you trying to grow plants and vegetables? Too fucking bad, ants will destroy them in a matter of days. Are you just a little too tired to put the dishes in the dishwasher? Too fucking bad, ants will take over your kitchen (something we have not been unfortunate enough to experience yet. I'm on super high alert constantly for insects. I will find myself running to kitchen randomly to check for any infiltration. I can't go in the backyard without trousers and trainers on because ants will eat my feet right off if given half the chance. I hate, HATE the bugs. I am so tired of beetles (and there are tons and they are huge and don't give a fuck about anything you love in the world, they will destroy it) and ants that I could scream. <br />
<b>Rain is something I can smell again</b>... Growing up in Wyoming, one of the best parts about summer and spring was the rainy days. You could smell the rain hours before the first drop actually fell and that smell would refuel even the most empty of hearts. The green skies and rolling clouds are a vivid and beautiful memory from my youth that I'd almost forgotten about. Because Washington and England doesn't have scratch-n-sniff rain. Either it's sunny or it's raining. There's no buildup and subtle hints before a downpour. It's just wet all the time. So coming here... That smell fills out house on warm, nearly too hot evenings. You could be anywhere in the entire house and the smell hits, building anticipation for the fat droplets on the grounds and tin roof outside the bedrooms. I am in love with smelling the rain again. <br />
<b>El Paso is freaking HUGE</b>... And I mean ridiculous huge. Imagine a gigantic "U" with a mountain down the center of it... Now imagine that the right side of the "U" is an entire city, and so is the bottom and the left. That doesn't even do it justice. It's ENORMOUS. Our nearest Target is nearly thirty minutes away, and that's close. I have to plan to drive for forty minutes to get to my nearest Hobby Lobby. The scale of this place didn't hit me until about a week in when we were feverishly trying to acquire furniture for our house and found that every single place we needed to go was at least thirty minutes from the last. El Paso is humongous and I love almost every square foot of it. <br />
<b>None of my shoes fit</b>... Yeah. That's fun. The change in elevation has made my stupid feet swell so much that I'm pretty much existing in flip-flops. It's just wonderful. <br />
<b>Kids remember every fucking thing you tell them</b>... I recall being a child and having my sisters complain about the fact that they could never, ever tell me anything because I wouldn't ever forget it or let them forget it. It wasn't until we moved here and had little Mollyface around all the time that I realized how real things were for my family. Kiddos choose to hear only select things and those things that they hear? They will be embedded in their brains for the rest of eternity. You'd be wise not to ever say anything to a child just to shut them up, as those idle promises will last until forever in their minds and will haunt you for the rest of your life. <br />
<b>Lightening storms are legit in Texas</b>... Much like the rain, lightening and thunder are very serious here. I watch the storms from every window in my house and am in love. The entire sky lights up purple and blue and the mountains are silhouetted so perfectly that the lightening storms have to be my favourite part about moving so far. <br />
<br />
<b>The kids don't like anything you would expect they would like</b>... Seriously, like nothing. I have so many things that I remember being madly in love with at their age and they couldn't give two actual shits about most of it. I was CERTAIN they would love Ace Ventura... Nope. I was wrong. They were bored and miserable for over half of it. Napoleon Dynamite was a fail. As was Ducktales. You know what they DO love though? Bar Rescue. I can't get the kid to shut up about wanting to watch that show. So there we are. <br />
<b>Swamp coolers are terrible</b>... What I wouldn't give for an actual air conditioner. <br />
<b>It sometimes get so hot that I legitimately feel like I'm going to die</b>... There have been moments in the past two months that I have seriously thought I was going to die. Sometimes it gets so hot that all you can do is lie on the sofa like a starfish with your pant legs rolled up and try not to have to share the fan if you can help it. For hours. It's awful. <br />
<b>Some people thought us moving out here was a terrible idea, but have changed their minds</b>... There were some people that have told us they thought us moving was the worst idea, that it was a fleeting fancy and that we would move back to WA within six months. And you know what? Those people have changed their minds. They see how happy we are, how much we have dedicated ourselves to making this work, and have retracted their statements that were spoken behind closed doors. I appreciate those people, firstly for sticking by us and just letting it play out. I love that they respected us enough to let us make this decision, no matter how poor they thought it was. Second? I appreciate those people for being honest and telling us that they can see how happy this decision has made us. <br />
<br />
<b>Going from zero to two kids is exhausting</b>... Holy CATS is it ever exhausting! It was so totally worth it and amazingly fun, but it was a challenge!<br />
<b>The form ice is dispensed is pretty much the most important thing in the world</b>... Ice is fairly serious business down here and if the ice isn't crushed, you can suck it. I get super indignant about ice now and didn't realize it was possible to be quite so discriminatory about something so mundane, but this is real life. <br />
<b>Drivers here don't give a single fuck about anybody else</b>... Nobody. Drivers don't care about a single person down here. It's insane how many times a day we almost die on the road. <br />
<b>I really do know who and what is important to me now</b>... Moving here has been a huge eye-opener for what people and things in my life should have a permanent place. It's been a very cleansing experience overall and I'm thankful for it. <br />
<b>My marriage is tremendous</b>... So, so very tremendous. We had a horrible start to the year and trudged through it to come out in this glorious, happy place. We communicate better and have hit a rhythm that we've never had before. Nobody will be able to tear this down, not even if they try, and I know there's some fuckers out there trying. We're happy and blissfully in love at the moment, working back up to one hundred percent together, and that makes the whole job a whole heck of a lot easier.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-59752871181392104942015-09-05T14:55:00.000-07:002015-09-05T14:55:20.678-07:00September 2015...And here we are, flying directly into autumn. I'm thrilled and tired and ready to see what winter is like here in Texas. It's certainly less hot than it was when I was penning my last post, but it's still hot and I'm hanging by a thread. I've got lots of tidying to do and some sexy spicy teryaki to cook, so I'm going to get this blog going so's I can get everything else done...<br /><br />
<b>Things i love most RIGHT NOW:</b><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>My patience... And boy do I have a ton of it. I have wanted to burst into fits of giving people stern talking-to's pretty much nonstop for the past month, but I've restrained myself, in hopes that perhaps things would level out. Nope. Shit's ugly and all I can do is smile and patiently wait out the storm in hopes that things will become more sane after a few months. We shall see. </li>
<li>My husband... He's my rock. Our marriage has never been stronger and that strength comes from a lot of goddamned hard work. I love that man every moment of every day and can't imagine going through this life without him. He's hilarious, strong, devoted, loving, and great to spend time with. </li>
<li>Our kitchen... This kitchen isn't a joke, guys. It's got some seriously sexy features that make me giddy every single time I even catch the tiniest glance of it. I spend so much time in here that it's ridiculous and I'm not even mad about it. It's beautiful. </li>
<li>Benadryl... My allergies have been cray for the past month. I'm itchy and miserable pretty much constantly, so I've been living on a steady stream of OTC shit to get me through a lot of my days. Those little pink pills are my favourite, though. </li>
<li>Headbands... I'm trying so, SO hard to grow my hairs out. They are longer than they've been in a couple of years and the urge of shave is hitting me hard, so I've been trying to stave it off with a collected of beautiful, sassy headbands. So far, we're working together, so send good vibes. Growing one's hairs out isn't a joke. </li>
<li>Water... All day, every day. I've decided I need to pull my life together and refuse to have anything but water to drink every day until I've consumed at least four seventeen ounce bottles of water. It really jumpstarts me being healthier each day and has made the world of difference for me so far. I just need to step it up a little. </li>
<li>Chilis... On everything. All the time. I don't know if it's because Mexico is fifteen minutes away or if it's because I have some deep-seated need for spice in my life, but I put it on everything. I make salsa pretty much constantly and enchiladas and chili, and everything spicy all the time. I heart chilis. </li>
</ul>
<b>Things that are consuming my life right now:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>Crocheting... I have tons of gorgeously pregnant friends and tons of other friends who I just love and want to make things for. As a result of this, I've taken my newly organized craft stash as a sign that I should totally make all the things all the time. I spend the bulk of every one of my days crocheting. I can't seem to stop. </li>
<li>Maintaining my patience... Which is a challenge, but I've had some mantras and have been taking some me-time to chill and regroup. I need this patience to keep strong, because I don't imagine the need for it will peter any time soon.</li>
<li>Writing... I'd forgotten how much I love writing. I lost my drive for it for a while and had a block that made it hard, but I seem to have found my voice again, so I'm running with it. </li>
<li>Organizing... And I want to organize ALL THE THINGS. I've been orchestrating several family and household notebooks, as well as busy books (for any little assholes that decide to say they're bored in my house, myself included), and calendars. I'm crazy for organizing right now, so I'm running with that too. </li>
</ul>
<b>Things I want to tell October Danie:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>"Nope. Kindness doesn't prevail. Self-preservation is what you need to kick into now."</li>
<li>"Not all people have the capacity to change. Let those shits go."</li>
</ul>
<br />
<b>last but not least... here's a quote. </b><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-58076725055906520432015-07-03T19:53:00.000-07:002015-07-03T19:53:18.101-07:00July 2015... Sweet merciful god. It is hot. I am working on another blog post right now about our gigantic move, so I'm going to do this post about things I adore at the moment and then move on to finishing the other blog. <br /><br />
<b>Things i love most RIGHT NOW:</b><br />
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Air conditioning... Good lord it is hotter than blazes here. Like, legit, I have never been so hot in my entire life. I may have mentioned being hot in the past... I was wrong. Very, extremely wrong. I regularly have sweat in places I had no idea were able to sweat. I want to live in a cool shower and/or lie on the sofa in a bathing suit constantly. However, the socially unacceptable nature of those activities meant hat we have a swamp cooler that helps us to exist. Not a perfect existence, but an existence. The car and any public stores are my favourite things right now because they pump air conditioning to the masses like it's water. </li>
<li>Ice water...I LOVE ice. And water. And ice water. Our ice maker is pretty much my bff at the moment. </li>
<li>Ice cream... I am sure you're sensing a theme. Ice cream is making every void in my life complete at the minute. It's gorgeous icy-ness is everything that I could ever need in the world. And I'm not limited to creamy treats. I am madly in love with sorbet as well. </li>
<li>Having a kiddo around... It's so nice. Our house is completely full of laughter and snuggles and general glee. It's so magical to have a little person around to ask questions and absorb everything we say like a little sponge. She says hilarious stuff all the time and makes us challenge ourselves and our beliefs. It's a really special things to have her around. </li>
<li>The El Paso skyline... Seriously. It does not matter where we turn, those enormous mountains command all attention. I discovered that the mountain that runs down the center of El Paso represent the southernmost tip of the Rocky Mountains, which is super exciting. It's an enormous range of mountains that take my breath away every single day. They're no Mt. Rainier, but they are spectacular in their own right. </li>
</ul>
<b>Things that are consuming my life right now:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>Making our new house a home... Guys, this house is beautiful and I couldn't be more pleased with it. But we have a lot of stuff that needs unpacking still. We've made a ton of headway, but there's still a lot of work to do. Pictures are being hung and trinkets are being displayed, so it's coming along. </li>
<li>Cooking at home... Muffin and I need to eat better. So does the little lady. We are working on being much healthier and making better decisions when it comes to snack and meal time. I've been stalking recipes on Pinterest and have been making a lot of lists. It's been relatively successful in the past week, but we could do better. Wish us luck. </li>
<li>Killing ants.... Seriously. Ants are ruining my life. Our actual entire back yard is completely covered in ants. We tried to plant some fresh veggies to grow and the veggies were covered with ants within hours. We have tried coffee, grits, baby powder, and two types of poison with no luck so far. I am at my wit's end. Any suggestions!? Bare in mind that I have a puppy and a kiddo to keep safe and healthy!</li>
</ul>
<br />
<b>Things I want to tell August Danie:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>"You're in Texas now. You're here and you're roasting hot. Get used to it. It's going to be hotter before it gets cooler."</li>
<li>"Hopefully things have continued on as positively as they have been. Keep being kind and maybe that kindness will follow." </li>
</ul>
<br />
<b>last but not least... here's a quote. </b><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-15363831311433102222015-06-05T20:46:00.002-07:002015-06-05T20:46:58.431-07:00June 2015Well, we are now successfully into June and we are now officially sixteen days away from moving halfway across the country and I am fucking exhausted. My entire existence is made up of equal parts cardboard, packing paper, yarn, and homework. I have had hardly any time to myself to stop and take a moment to breathe. I am just on full blast, running at top speed, burning the candle at both ends, and all the other sayings that exist to denote frazzled.<br />
<br />
Only just now have I taken an evening to do some relaxed activities which include organizing my Pinterest, planning moving tactics, and figuring out what I'm going to pack next. I'm going to get this list out now, that way I can get to bed and be up bright and early for some packing fun. <br />
<br />
<b>Things i love most RIGHT NOW:</b><br />
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Cutting hair again... It seems that all my neighbours have decided to realize that I cut hair NOW, instead of for the past year. As a result, I've been cutting a ton of hairs and I forgot how much I love it! Now though, we're moving in two freaking weeks and those turds decided to wait until the last minute to want me as their hairdresser. Great. Hopefully, I'll take over all of El Paso with my shears and colour brushes. </li>
<li>OMG NEW HOUSE... You guys, we got a house in El Paso and it's pink and I love it. We had initially set out to have a house paid for and ready to move into the instant we moved to Texas and many, many people attempted to shatter our dreams of a seamless move by telling us horror stories and generally shrouding our hopes with doubt. Little did they know, we had the most fucking awesome good luck to be introduced to an amazing woman in El Paso who has done a lot of footwork for us, looking at houses and giving us information. She has been a godsend and I don't know how we could have gotten through the past few weeks without her. Anyways, she went and looked at some properties for us and Monday she went to look at a house that we fell immediately in love it! It's completely refurbished and has an enormous backyard!! Photos will occur and you will all be very impressed! </li>
<li>American Ritual Tattoo... I'm so pissed that it took us until a month before our move to discover the gorgeous people that work at this shop. They are the funnest, sweetest, and most wonderful people and the work they do is fantastic. </li>
<li>Organization...This whole move thing has really prompted some serious organization in our lives. I am organizing the fuck out of EVERYTHING! I am loving purging and sorting things into different, useful places. Hopefully, all this work will pay off when we arrive in Texas, because if it doesn't, I'm going to lose my mind.</li>
<li>My beast is pregnant... My most favourite, gorgeous human in the world is FINALLY pregnant! That gorgeous Ashley of mine has a tiny baby in her belly and I couldn't be more excited for her if I wanted to be. For over a year now I've been patiently waiting for her and her husband to announce a bun in the oven. Every time she's posted a photo I've secretly hoped that it was an announcement that another beautiful human being would be brought into the world.. But it wasn't until last week that I got a text from her with a photo of a hoodie-shrouded belly telling me that she wanted me to be one of the first to know. My little heart swelled and that reminded me how much I love her and how much love that tiny human will be surrounded with. Ashley is a fantastic person and deserves wonderful things in her life. This little man is going to be rad. </li>
</ul>
<b>Things that are consuming my life right now:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>SELLING ALL THE THINGS... I have hit the point in our move that I want to literally just burn our house down. I am sick of packing and I am sick of negotiating space like I am playing a life-size version of Tetris. As a result of this packing exhaustion I have decided to rid our lives of as many things as I possibly can. We're getting rid of pretty much anything that we are able to, so I've been flogging things left and right everywhere we go. We've gotten rid of a pretty substantial amount of crap, but there's still a ton to go. </li>
<li>OMG PACKING... Yeah. My world is made up of boxes. Everything in my life is in or around a box right now. </li>
<li>Ice Cream... It is hot. So hot. And I hate heat. So ice cream is my bff right now. It is all I want to eat at the moment. Just ice cream, all the time. Watch out Texas, you'll have a cold treat shortage in two weeks. </li>
</ul>
<br />
<b>Things I want to tell May Danie:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>"All this shit will be over with in two weeks. You will be on the road to a new life in two weeks. Are you ready for how fantastic this is going to be?!"</li>
<li>"Be patient."</li>
</ul>
<br />
<b>last but not least... here's a quote. </b><br />
<br />
The only barriers that you have are easily overcome if you push yourself hard enough. Find your dreams and make them happen. That's what we're doing!<br />
<b> </b><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-44233344487195454362015-04-05T17:51:00.000-07:002015-04-05T17:51:37.898-07:00April 2015... April is coming together interestingly and with a boom and a bang. It's been a long month already and how that could possibly be will come in a blog possibly tonight. Maybe tomorrow. We shall see.<br />
<br />
<br />
I'm just going to go ahead and get my list moving so that I can get back to homework and stuff, but know that I have been elated, delighted, and every ounce as happy as it is physically possible for me to be. I hope you have too. So much. I want everyone to feel the air or gorgeous lightness that I am feeling. I want everyone to know that good things will come and that faith must be had that things will fall where they are supposed to. Please, take time to yourself and make your mind calm in the fact that the world, your world is going where it should. I promise. <br />
<br />
<b>Things i love most RIGHT NOW:</b><br />
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>My new Beats... I got them as an early graduation gift and I literally don't think I could be more pleased. I have verbally abused many people about how ridiculous I think it is that people feel the need to have such an expensive piece of technology in their lives, but now that they are adorning my ears (and I have not depleted my own bank account for them), I am in love. They are the most beautiful colour, with the most gorgeous sound quality. I'm sorry for any hateful remarks I have made about them. They are my new BFF. </li>
<li>Getting rid of junk... SO, Dane and I are moving. In seventy-three days we will be bundling ourselves into a Penske truck to begin a twenty-seven hour drive to El Paso where we will begin a new life with lots of sun and possibly chickens (more on that later!). Because we're moving ourselves, I've decided that I want nothing to do with transporting more crap than we need to. I have a tremendous amount of stuff. Countless books, a craft store's full stock of yarn, and more cardigans than I have ever seen anybody have, and I've realized that perhaps the reason I feel so overwhelmed and anxiety-riddled is because I am literally surrounded with an excessive amount of just STUFF. Not things that I need or have any specific use for, just stuff for the sake of having stuff. So we've decided to deplete. So far seven (pretty large) boxes of books, four garbage bags of clothes, three boxes of DVD's, and a couple of pieces of furniture have been shifted out of our lives, and I feel so pleased and marginally more free. We're purging a ton of stuff, and I'm so very excited not only to have the weight of the junk we have off of me, but also to be able to completely start from scratch with a lot of stuff. When we get to El Paso we'll be able to go find a new dining table and sofa, along with other things we need. We'll be able to create a new home in a new place and that is so thrilling. </li>
<li>Breakfast... I am currently obsessed with breakfast, particularly steel cut oats. I discovered them when we were in California last and my mother-in-law fed me some, and the romance has been rekindled given that I have TONS of it in the pantry and I want to spend less money. Oats are just so delicious and I adore how many different ways that I can make them such. I have a fridge full of fresh fruit that I cut over them, or I have cocoa that I can use to make them taste like brownies, or I have brown sugar and butter for a really easy morning. They are fantastic!</li>
<li>My marriage... Despite how horribly things could have become with all of the changes in our lives these last few weeks, things have only become more beautiful. Rather than choosing to be overwhelmed and exhausted, we've decided to be delighted and laugh as often as we can. For every moment that we have panic about the move, we shift our focus to things that are going to be gorgeous about it. We have been talking and sharing small stories about our childhood. We've been snuggling and giving kisses every time we have a spare moment. I couldn't even begin to explain how terrified I was a month ago about the future of our marriage, but this past couple of weeks has shifted everything into a bright patch of light that has reminded us that things are okay and it's alright to trust one another and I can't believe how furiously it's made me love everything else in my life. </li>
</ul>
<b>Things that are consuming my life right now:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>Moving hacks. I want to make this move as easy as possible. I am on Pinterest constantly looking up ways to move specific things (and guys, if ANY of you know of a majestic ways to move all of my makeup and cosmetics without them killing themselves in the heat, I would love for you to share them) and have found a TON of fantastic ideas, but please feel free to share any special trickery that made your lives easier in the moving process. Particularly things involving cosmetics, paint (acrylic and liquid watercolours), and my stinky puppy (who I plan to sedate for the bulk of the trip, thanks vet). </li>
<li>My iTunes playlist. More than consuming my life, it's destroying it. For months now I've been slowly working on new playlists for a new iPod I've had sitting on my bookshelf for literally a year. I want that iPod to be perfectly organized and every song on every playlist to be suitable for the mood that playlist is meant for (sleepytime, emotional cutting, and exercizing, to name a few). I'm getting a little irrationally crazy about it, but I want it to be done and to not have to touch it again for forever, so I've been obsessing over it. I'm so close to being done, but then the double-checking will come into play, and the light at the end of THAT tunnel seems exponentially far away. </li>
<li>Studying for state boards. I'm about to certify in Esthetics in Washington and I've been crazy-studying. I take my practical test on Wednesday and my written on Saturday. I want to pass them both IMMEDIATELY, so I've been cramming like crazy. THEN, I'll have to take both tests again to certify in Texas, which is just so exciting, so I've been preparing for that as well. The requirements for Texas are tremendously different than those for Washington, so it's not going to be devastatingly difficult, but it's a lot to prepare for. </li>
</ul>
<br />
<b>Things I want to tell May Danie:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>"Dude, you are literally moving in a month, have you got your shit together?!"</li>
<li>"You are a special person and lots of people love you, please don't forget that during this moving process. You will be saying goodbye to a lot of people and they have each touched your life in some way. Show them how much you appreciate them as a reminder to yourself of how blessed you are and as a reminder to them that they mean a lot to you." </li>
</ul>
<br />
<b>last but not least... here's a quote. </b><br />
I am an emotional and physical hoarder, so I need this reminder. I can't keep clutching on to things that don't matter anymore. <b> </b><br />
<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-43842867982331107252015-02-20T13:28:00.001-08:002015-02-20T13:28:20.485-08:00Fifty Shades of Grey... <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Well, he saw me and I don't know how I feel about that.<br />
<br />
I went to see Fifty Shades on V-Day. That gorgeous hubby of mine surprised me with a morning out to breakfast followed by a movie date to see a film I wasn't entirely sure I was desperate to see in the first place.<br />
<br />
My reservation came before even reading the books. I spent over a year refusing to read them and found myself hating any conversation about the books before it even began because I KNEW that I would be dissatisfied. I knew that all the hype that built up around these "<i>racy"</i> books would leave so much to be desired that I would hate myself for reading them if I ever did break down, which was inevitable. It happened one day, after over a year, and I decided to read them. I downloaded them so as to avoid any kind of a papertrail that would indicate I even thought to read them. I anticipated before I read the first word in the first book that I would detest them, so I didn't want to have a tangible reminder of the fact that I caved and read them sitting right there on my bookshelf for any period of time. I wanted them to be on my Kindle, for free, and then I wanted to delete their existence forever whilst being able to justify to myself smugly that at least I tried. <br />
<br />
I nestled into bed with that stinky puppy and snoring husband of mine, fully planning to begin reading the first book and then shut the rest of the hype down. My belief that I would hate those books was so enormous that I literally didn't even plan to finish the first book. I was going to put in a cursory effort and stop reading the instant I lost interest, all so I could participate in snippets of conversation, gasp at how shocking the sex scenes were, and then fade into the distance, hoping nobody would notice.<br />
<br />
But then I started reading and literally read that first book in just over eight hours. I read it and without even skipping a beat, began the second. The same pattern repeated itself with the third. I literally didn't sleep for two nights and finished all three books in three days, which is practically unheard of in my world. Only a handful of other books have had such an effect on me, but this one was a strange one. I didn't find myself consumed by them because they were so enthralling that I just <i>had</i> to finish them all immediately. I read them aggressively because I had very, VERY meager expectations of them and they met and superseded those tiny expectations. I fell in love with them because they really did offer me something different (from my typical true crime and anatomy books) and were relatively enthralling. They were exciting, interesting enough, and honestly, they inspired me to be slightly more adventurous (albeit not quite as saucy or disgusting) in the bedroom.<br />
<br />
For the film though, I expected more. I expected my imagination to be met by Hollywood for a visual explosion on the screen. Instead, my aggressive hopes for the film were devastated upon the casting of Christian Grey. Never, under any circumstances was there anybody else that could have played Christian better than Alexander Skarsgard. Instead, they picked Jamie Dornan, the sack of shit, which actually could have played Christian better than the person they actually cast.<br />
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<br />
I literally seethed for months and the day casting was announced was the day that I decided I wasn't going to like the film. This decision broke any semblance of hope that I had for the films. Like every other person that read the books, I had an image in my head of what Christian looked like and it most certainly wasn't Jamie Dornan.Occasionally, it was my husband, and the rest of the time, it was Alexander Skarsgard. The huge, beautiful, blonde Adonis that steals my heart every time his gorgeous Swedish face is caught by my eyes. <br />
<br />
So that is the first factor that needs to be taken into consideration when it comes to my personal opinion of this film. I was devastated by the terrible casting of the single most important character in the it. I don't care about who they cast as Anastasia, Kate or even Elliot. There was never a clear picture of them in my mind. They were a non-entity, so whomever they cast as them would be fine.<br />
<br />
But Christian. Sigh. I <i>know </i>that Universal Studios themselves were never going to be able to please everyone, so why would they single me out as the one person that they would satisfy with their casting of Christian? The problem is, I literally don't know a single person who was pleased with the casting choice. I'm sure there ARE people who are more than pleased with him, but of the many, MANY individuals I know, not one of them can say with any form in clarity, that they felt that Universal made the right choice. <br />
<br />
As for the actual review? First and foremost, the acting was terrible. Now, to say that the acting was terrible, that is indeed taking into account the fact that I am VERY aware that the storyline they had to work off of wasn't top-notch to begin with. I KNOW that the film's script is almost a carbon-copy of the books, which I loved. I adore the fact that the screenwriters really kept with the book, leaving no lingering hopes for scenes from the book. The script, scene direction, and even wardrobe was everything I expected it to be. It left nothing to be desired.<br />
<br />
In fact, this was my second largest concern about this film. I never, ever, under any circumstances will go out of my way to read a book before it is made into a film. I will typically avoid it at all costs. I know that the world as a whole is split pretty consistently down the middle on whether they like to see the film before or after reading the book, but I myself am of the former persuasion and like to go into a film surprised and also satisfied that I am not missing out on my favourite bits of storyline that I drew grand images of in my mind. I've been burned far too many times this way and just don't want to have to allow that kind of disappointment into my world if I can help it. So when the announcement was made that there would be a film made from the books, I was pretty devastated. I had read the books and developed the characters, locations, and quirks in my mind and was pleased with my work. I didn't NEED Hollywood to come in and stomp all over them with their shit-covered boots like they tend to do with any other book-to-film adaptation that they do.<br />
<br />
So I went in with supremely low expectations, which were met. I mean, it was a very low bar. I knew, prior to the film even being made, that it was not going to be the best film I ever saw, and I was pleased to see that it also wasn't the worst. At it's base, it's a story about a consensual sexual relationship between a man and a woman. Two people who are broken to some degree and who make one another better. It's a story about liberation, discovery, and stimulation of desires that are often left in the wayside because of social taboos that have crippled our world. I think it was approached tastefully and with a pretty hefty degree of modesty given the content and stigma attached to the content.<br />
<br />
Neither of the main actors were overly convincing in their passion and position in social standing, which was disappointing, but not devastating. I've watched enough B-Z movies to know bad acting from worse acting, so the displays put forth by our Mr. and Ms. were manageable to watch. I just wish that they had tried a little harder.<br />
<br />
The soundtrack was glorious. Danny Elfman can do almost no wrong, so that was a plus. It doesn't hurt that I am a particularly large sucker for cover songs of any variety.<br />
<br />
Other than the terrible casting, mediocre acting, and wonderful soundtrack, there's not a lot to report. It's a movie. It's a bit of a love story, there's a heap of boobies and bush in it for the men-folk, and you get a pretty heaping dose of Seattle, which is nice for those of us who either live here or are in love with the rainy wonder that is the Pacific Northwest.<br />
<br />
Overall, I'd give the film three out of five stars. Not the best and certainly not the worst. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-12202647153522348582015-02-03T18:10:00.000-08:002015-02-03T18:10:00.525-08:00February 2015...So we're balls-deep into 2015 and it's been a pretty miraculous beginning to the year. We are healthy, happy, and attempting to make our lives better. It's been busy because it's my final practical quarter in school and I've been purging the heck out of our house, but it's been very cleansing and satisfying.<br />
<br />
<br />
Things are coming together for us and finally reaching a level of homeostasis that I'm very happy with. I'm elated every day for the blessings that I have been given and couldn't hope to be more pleased for the smiles that I've got smeared across my face every day. <br />
<br />
<b>Things i love most RIGHT NOW:</b><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Cosmetic Chemistry... It's been a tremendously fascinating topic that we've been going through at school for the last couple of weeks. There are so many myths about products ingredients, and things I am glad I've learned. I have discovered how to create esters, the history of many huge ingredients used in products, and what specific things can be used for particular skin issues. I feel like the entire world is at my fingertips right now, and it's very exciting!</li>
<li>Red Velvet Oreos... Oh. Em. Gee. I got a free bag last week before they were released and they literally changed my life. Red velvet is one of my most favourite things in the entire world and these Oreos have just elevated everything to the next level of snacking. </li>
<li>Epigenetics... We went to a little class on this topic a few weeks ago and I just had to learn more. I've been rampantly consuming books on epigenetics, biology, chemistry, genetics, and everything else I can. It's such an incredible topic and so mystifying that so many things happen at the teensy, itty-bitty cellular level. </li>
<li>Muffin... My baby. The love of my life. I adore his big, beautiful face such a gigantic amount. He's so sweet and loving and really makes all my days so much more magical just by saying sweet little things or grabbing my hands. I am so happy that we are going into our fourth year of marriage and so grateful to have him in my life. </li>
</ul>
<b>Things that are consuming my life right now:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>Reading everything I can on biology, genetics, chemistry, and cosmetics. </li>
<li>Serial killer documentaries... All of them. All the time. I've really hit the bug on criminals again. It's such an interesting topic. </li>
<li>Conquering knitting... I'm making a blanket for Molly's birthday and committed myself to KNITTING it rather than crochet, and it's really forcing me to get those needles on lock-down. It's been slow-going, but I'm getting there. </li>
<li>Fixing my heart... I deserve to be happy and not compromise myself in lieu of other people's feelings, so I've been making myself a priority and learning to respect my own needs along with other people's. </li>
<li>Learning how to groom my puppy myself... We are poor, you guys. We don't have endless streams of cash for all the money in the world that groomers want to wash my dog, so I've taken it upon myself to learn how to groom that little bear by myself. I invested in a nail grinder and have been trolling Youtube like it's my job for how to trim black satan nails (Which are litterally like satan. They are horrific). It's been fun and really self-fulling to be able to become independent from Petsmart's hold on me.</li>
</ul>
<br />
<b>Things I want to tell March Danie:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>"It's 2015 and you will be finished with school soon! You're going to start working and making a really beautiful path for yourself wherever you may go. Enjoy the ride!"</li>
<li> "Maybe all that kindness will pay off. Maybe."</li>
</ul>
<br />
<b>last but not least... here's a quote. </b>So I have gall stones, and my eating has had to fall under a lot of scrutiny and control, which has been agonizing. So when THIS popped up on my Pinterest feed it struck me pretty hard.<br />
<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-7884320266951373092015-01-06T22:18:00.000-08:002015-01-06T22:18:24.190-08:00Tuesday, January 6thQuickly....<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>When I'm at a show and the bass drum beats like it's in my chest</b><br /><b>When I'm doing lashes on someone and they fall asleep</b>... So, we were taught lash extensions at school and I am incredible at it. I am fast and very effective, and my clients VERY regularly fall asleep on the bed. It's such a nice feeling to know that my hands are so gentle and I create such an atmosphere of relaxation that it can lull people to sleep.<br /><b>When people fall asleep in service</b>... just like above, I love that I can do a facial or a brow tint and have someone fall asleep on my bed. <br /><b>Doing lashes</b>... there is SUCH a relaxing aspect to doing lashes. Almost everyone else in class would argue that lashes are horrible to do because they're boring or tedious. THAT is exactly what I love most about them. I adore sitting down, putting on my headgear, and zoning out for a little over an hour whilst I make someone beautiful. It's so nice. <br /><b>Gone Girl</b>... THIS MOVIE AND BOOK, YOU GUYS! Muffin and I went to see it with absolutely no knowledge of the story and fell immediately in love. It's intense, emotional, and really great. Read it and see it, you'll be pleased!<br /><b>Bill Murray<br />Our local Hooters has a pregnant girl working</b>... Muffin and I were at dinner several weeks ago on a "Wingsday" and saw a very blatantly pregnant Hooters Girl serving up drinks with a big, gorgeous smile. It was a really wonderful thing to see. I had never imagined Hooters would keep a pregnant girl on given the fact that they won't even let their girls have tattoos, but I am pleased they did!<br /><b>Django... </b>I completely forget how much I love it.<b><br />Snow "snakes" on the road</b>... You know when you're driving down a highway or not-very-busy road and snow is swirling around looking like snakes squirming all over the street? I love that. <br /><b>When the moon is visible during the day<br />Peels</b>... There is little I love more than receiving and giving peels. They are a fantastic service that I adore. <br /><b>Finishing a book<br />Autopsy documentaries<br />When we're both super tired</b>... I love when Hubby and I both stumble into bed in a sleepy daze and snuggle under the covers all fumbly and tired. <b><br />When you see a person who was driving like a maniac has been pulled over<br />Drum solos<br />Xylophone solos</b><br />
<b>plum-coloured lipstick on a black woman </b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-59742256570980119262015-01-02T16:44:00.001-08:002015-01-02T16:44:52.748-08:00I want...WHEW!! Happy New Year!!<br />
<br />
Muffin, Puppy, and I just spent the last several days disconnected from the world at the ocean and it was a lovely feeling. We spent several days reflecting on our past year and the year to come with no distractions or even any wifi (I DIDN'T EVEN TURN ON MY COMPUTER!!). It was super nice and helped us to recharge and come into this new year with all the excitement and voracity that we could generate. I spent a lot of time reading books about making myself more beautiful from the inside out by eating better, being kind, and understanding other people's needs. It was much needed and very enlightening. <br />
<br />
During our off time, I came to recall that I was perusing Facebook the other week in a bit of a sleepy coma. We had spent the day with Molly, laughing, prancing, and eating festive foods. It was a day full of love and delight that was being wound down in my snuggly bed with the puppy nestled between my gorgeous husband and me. In my sleepy haze I found an <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/devon-corneal/i-want-moms-christmas-wishlist_b_2316655.html">article</a> that made me a little weepy. It was an article that I immediately had to read to Muffin and share with everyone I could. It is a beautiful article that is encouraging, uplifting, and that stuck with me for weeks.<br />
<br />
I prompted me to almost instantly begin a list of things that I want. It is a list filled with things that I want, things I've been craving and searching for for years. Things that I would like to see come beginning this year, this new year. Things that I will push for to make not only my own life better, but that of the people around me that I care so much about. This is a bit of a resolution list, but more of a list of things, tangible changes, that I would like to see in my life. Things that will make my life better and more magical than it already is. <br />
<br />
<br />
I want for Molly to be comfortable and happy. To not feel alienated or like she has to fight to please or justify her parents. It isn't fair for her to feel embarrassed because she loves her father, mother, or step-parents and I want to cultivate it within her to have the strength to love whomever she wants without having to feel shameful. I want for her and Muffin to build a relationship so strong and beautiful that it cannot be chipped away by anybody. They deserve to have a safe and enriching relationship that will grow into something of trust and happiness as they both get older, and nobody is entitled to try and take that away. Not me, not her friends, and not her maternal family. Nobody.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
I
want for all the adults in her life to start acting like normal people who can act like the
respectable adults she will look up to for guidance on how to act with
their loved ones (or even enemies). I want for us to be able to
communicate and talk and endeavor to make these two houses fluid and
open so that Molly will grow up with more good memories than bad
surrounding family. I wish that she grow up to be someone who respects
people and knows the right and wrong way to treat people to avoid
breaking hearts or disappointment. I don't want for her to grow up thinking she can just ignore issues or spread lies about them to make them disappear. I want for her to be accountable, realistic, and empathetic. All of this so that she could live an abundantly blessed life filled with love and happiness. <br />
<div>
<br /></div>
But I want her to see
some disappointment. Not debilitating disappointment, but just knowing
that people don't always need to win and that they can learn something about themselves, other people, and the world by losing. She is smart and that will get her so far in life, so long as she knows how to
distinguish between broken and bent. Things can be fixed. Arguments can
resolve. And we can move on without having to harbour guilt and shame. It is okay to cry, so long as we pick ourselves back up, forgive, and move on with life. Make decisions that are not going to hurt the people who love you, make decisions that will make you a better person.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
I
want to be kind. Kinder. Warm and loving even to those who do not offer me the same courtesy. Because those are the people who need it most. I want the people in
my life to feel valued and appreciated. Loved. I want to validate
feelings and concerns whilst still preserving valuation for my own
feelings and needs. Those are just as important, and need to be contained, but not at the expense of other people. It is not my position to alienate or hurt other people, I am not God and cannot punish people. People will be hit by the karma that they are entitled, so I need to love and provide kindness in an effort to realign people who maybe just lost their path.<br />
<br />
But I also want to be kinder to myself. My body hurts an indescribable amount pretty much constantly, and I want to find out why and make changes to stop that pain. I want to begin training to run no less than three 5k's in the next year. In that training, I want to begin eating healthier, smarter, and at home more. I want to put things in my body more for fuel rather than to stifle emotions or out of boredom. I want to begin creating a body that I can enjoy and feel proud to live in. I also want to cultivate a healthier mind. I want to focus less on negative shit and more on the abundance of beautiful things I have to smile about. I want to stop taking on the shame that others try to bestow upon me because of their own insecurities or issues and validate my own feelings and needs as often as I can.<br />
<br />
I want to let go of the people in my life who seem to not care about having a place in it anymore. I try so hard to make people love me and please everyone. Much of the time, at the expense of my own sanity. I need to let it go, move on, and rebuild without those individuals in my life. Their exit from my life was not my fault and I did everything in my power to keep their position in my world, but their mysterious needs prevailed, and it is not my place to try to change that. Perhaps I will be fortunate enough to one day have them back in my life, and if not, I have so many other beautiful people in my world to keep my soul bright. <br />
<div>
<br /></div>
I want Muffin to feel secure, in every
way possible. I want him to feel secure in his job, his marriage, and
his self image. I want for him to see himself through my eyes. Eyes that
love him more every single day because of the things I've seen him do,
not just with me, but in his life. His history is rich and has made him
the person he is today. A person who, like everyone, wants to fix things
that they've done or could have done better. He has that ability but it is
scary, and I want to be strong enough to help shine a light when he needs it and be his
rock when he may only need someone to lean on. <br />
<div>
<br /></div>
I want to
learn to be grateful of the many things we have. To be less petulant and actually appreciate my bounty of stuff. I have limitless
love, countless things, and enough. I need to focus on the enough that I
have and not need to get more, which has the tendency to lead to disappointment. Muffin and I are getting better, but we really do have a tendency to not budget well and over-spend, leaving us with too much junk and too little money. We always seem to make it through by the kindness of others and some sweet bargains, but I want to do more. I want to live consciously with delight in the things that I have. I literally have eight hundred books on my Kindle. Have I read them all? Nope. Not even an eighth of them. I want to read more voraciously, consume information, and spend more time in worlds crafted by other people's imaginations.<br />
<br />
Finally, I want to craft more often. I want to journal, draw, paint, crochet, bake, and generally create. The tail-end of 2014 saw me make a lot of wonderful things, and I want this year to mark the re-ignition of my love affair with crafts. I plan to create things with Muffin, Molly, and anybody else who I can rope into it.<br />
<br />
Hopefully, this will be a year of abundance, gorgeousness, and glee. I hope that my days are filled with more happies than sad, and that I can fix some things that are broken. It's as promising as I make it! <br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-37144692165640272862014-11-19T20:47:00.001-08:002014-11-19T20:47:42.722-08:00"Priorities. Some people need to get some."I'd love to talk about priorities and this direct quote taken from the Facebook of Molly's mother. It's no secret that I occasionally go and have a gander at her page. It's worked out relatively well for us, as I have discovered many slanderous posts and hateful comments that have been dispensed as needed to legal officials for reference to the type of person we are trying desperately to co-parent with.<br />
<br />
I tend to go to her page in an attempt to find any extra photos of Molly that I can, as Muffin and I both agree that the five or so photos he gets a year from BJ are inadequate and we will seek wherever we can for more. I've found remnants of years filled with memories from BJ's Facebook that I am not ashamed to have found, as the happiness that I get to see on Muffin's face when he sees photos of his daughter at age five when he hardly got any photos makes all that disappear. Watching him be a grownup with a gorgeous little child with years of beautiful memories is really special and validates all the time that we've spent struggling through court.<br />
<br />
Becoming a grownup has its perks and a few drawbacks. Perks being that I can eat ice cream any time I want, I don't have a set bedtime, and if I don't like someone, I am not forced to talk to them or spend time with them. It's a really nice thing to be an adult and to be able to make choices for myself. The drawback being that sometimes, those choices have consequences. Consequences that aren't always the funnest to deal with. Consequences that I, as a responsible adult, must deal with.<br />
<br />
Ice cream in excess has made me fat, I'm tired literally constantly because I stay up so late, and I miss out on meaningful, special memories that could be had were I not always so petulant. Consequences come from a lot of stuff... Lying. Being hateful. Bullying. Being selfish and not sharing. All actions that as an adult I've had to learn to stave off because it's not helpful, kind, or conducive to being a normal, functioning adult. The best way to act like a regular adult is to develop and maintain a very clear line of priorities.<br />
<br />
Priorities include being the type of person who makes decisions not based on their own personal feelings or needs, but what would be best for the other people in their lives. All the people in their lives. Big people. Little people. Children.<br />
<br />
Yes. I went to Las Vegas. It was my thirtieth birthday and I saved and saved, and decided that after twenty-two years of pining, I would finally go there. I have spent years not going on this one dream vacation because my priorities called me towards bills or work or other people. This year though? I decided to be my own priority for once. To give myself the gift of a once-in-a-lifetime trip that I've wanted to go on for two decades. I budgeted and planned meticulously so that I could begin my thirties just the way I wanted.<br />
<br />
You wanna know about another trip I am taking soon? I'm going to El Paso. To visit my step-daughter because she asked me with tear-filled eyes why we never go visit her at her home. She confided in me with her broken heart open, begging for some form of connection in this whole situation. Some way for her to feel more comfortable and like she is important. And she is. Through this entire thing, for me, she has been the single most important person. The whole reason why everyone has been fighting. This hasn't been about me or my own feelings, this has been about her and her feelings. I remember being a child who's mother hid things and pretended her father didn't exist. I remember wondering endlessly what I had done that was so wrong to make my own father not want to be a part of my life, when, as an adult, I've realized my mother was the puppetmaster behind everything. The one constant that painted my father as this evil, ugly man who wanted nothing to do with me. I remember that, and resent daily how much was stolen from me by someone who was so greedy. <br />
<br />
Would I have preferred to save my money and pay off some extra debt or buy myself some fabulous Christmas presents? Sure. But when a little girl who's hurting from the pain of her parent's incessant fighting over her asks for something to make that pain a little less, I'm going to make it happen. Whatever the cost. I'm going to put on my big girl pants and travel for almost half a day with my husband to the desert to visit a little lady who needs it more than all the video games, glitter, or clothes that I might think I need.<br />
<br />
You know something else that I did? I suggested to Muffin that we all go out to a meal together with Molly's mother and step-dad despite not really wanting to spend a couple of hours with someone who so actively hates us. Priorities called me to though, because those big blue eyes want to see some normalcy and my feelings don't matter nearly as much as hers.<br />
<br />
Do you want to know who's feelings apparently DO supersede Molly's? Her mom's. After excitedly accepting our suggestion for a big family meal out a couple of months ago she has now decided that spending time with ME (me who has done nothing but try to bridge gaps, make her and her daughter comfortable, craft really adorable and thoughtful gifts for her children, and tell the truth on court documents) is far too much for HER to handle despite it being something that her daughter is seeking with wild intent. Her daughter wants to see some form of friendliness and kindness between us. She cried to me, asking why we didn't get along and why we didn't spend time together. She cried as I talked to her about all the things I thought were wonderful about her mother as she fell asleep. I want her to know that this has nothing to do with my feelings for her mother, and that she should feel comfortable loving whomever she wants with no reservation. I don't want her to feel shameful for wanting to talk about her mom's goofiness or great cooking, I want her to relish in it, even if she's not encouraged to love this household when she is not here.<br />
<br />
But all of that is neither here nor there, as her mother can't handle the idea of spending time with me. In my opinion, her priorities seem to be a little skewed, which begs the question for me, do her random public jibes on Facebook about people needing to get priorities reference herself? Because it seems that they couldn't <i>possibly </i>reference me. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-1162329976667422132014-11-06T22:36:00.000-08:002014-11-06T22:36:19.890-08:00November 2014...Right now I am experiencing a mass amount of distress surrounding the fact that I am about to enter my final week in my twenties. This is it. This will be my last seven days living in a decade that granted me countless beautiful opportunities to learn, live, and love as irrationally or intently as I wanted. It has been bountiful and every bit as perfect as I could have hoped it would be.<br />
<br />
Those two weeks post-Halloween have always been the most thrilling, as they begin the countdown to my birthday and the countdown to the promise of a new, exciting year of life. I adore November for all the crackling leaves, birthdays, Thanksgiving, fireplaces, and OMGALMOSTCHRISTMAS. It's always my favourite and never fails to deliver every ounce of excitement that I build up to it every single year.<br />
<br />
So here's my November list. A list I am particularly elated about...<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Things i love most RIGHT NOW:</b><br />
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>THE BOOK OF LIFE. Beautiful. Sickeningly beautiful. The soundtrack. The imagery. The everything. I'm in love with it. </li>
<li>Sugaring. It's like a thousand times better than waxing and I can't stop thinking about how much I love it. I plan to investigate ways to make my own sugar paste so I can test things out at home. </li>
<li>Cheesecake. At least two times a week I eat cheesecake. I'm a fat lard.</li>
<li>Lush Christmas 2014. The products we have are incredible and you all need to get your paws on some of them. Our house is absolutely filled with spicy smells and glitter. It's a wonderful time of year that is made magnificently better by my place of work. </li>
<li>OK GO. Their new album is incredible. </li>
</ul>
<b>Things that are consuming my life right now:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>Planning my birthday trip. We leave in eight days and I pretty much remind everyone constantly throughout the day. I have spent almost every free moment of the last month attempting to find new, magical, special things for us to do during our trip. I can't WAIT to get away and spend some time with the hubby and my in-laws. It's going to be really special and the perfect way to ring in my third decade on this earth. </li>
<li>Planning our winter trip. Molly asked us several times why we never went to see HER, so we immediately jumped on that as an opportunity to go on an adventure, see where the little lady lives, and attempt to bridge a gap with her mother, which was humbly accepted and then very hatefully rejected only recently. I'll admit that I was very excited for Molly to be able to see her two families come together for the sake of her. She has so much confusion and unsureness surrounding her two homes that this would have been something tremendously important for her. Something that could have worked as a turning point for her finally feeling safe and like it is okay to love both families without feeling like she is hurting someone else. It's a hard, fine line that she is walking that is being shaken. All we can do is make sure it's not us who are shaking it. We want her to feel safe and comfortable, and if her needs don't come ahead of everyone else's, there's not a lot we can do about that. All we CAN do is love that little face as much as possible and make sure she knows that she is safe and free to love anyone she wants when she's with us. Anyways... We're going to El Paso, so if anyone has any suggestions of fun things to do whilst we're there, please, help. We've got a few ideas, but with the freed up time, we wouldn't be upset about some more ideas. </li>
<li>Setting up an amazing Christmas. We've never had a little one in our house for actual Christmas day like, ever, so we're trying to plan fun, rewarding Christmas experiences that I am desperately excited about. I've been planning several things since February... We want to uphold some fun traditions whilst holding up really important morals about giving and being thankful for what we have. I've been researching and planning doing some special things for our community since mid-summer that I'm really excited about. We're going to donate some time and love back to our community in a lot of ways. We'll also be generally doing a lot of great family things for the holidays, which will be super-fun. </li>
<li>Making my crafting/makeup room the most fabulous room in the world. And woooh doggie it's going to be great. There is a heap of glitter, fairy lights, tons of bookshelves, and lots of DIY. I'll unveil it soon and everyone will be jealous. I promise. </li>
<li>Painting. I'm currently obsessed with working on a painting of mine that I started months ago as a project for school. I've since morphed it into a gorgeous piece of art that I can't WAIT to hang on our walls. I'm in the middle of painstakingly creating a galaxy on canvas, which is difficult, but totally rewarding. </li>
</ul>
<br />
<b>Things I want to tell December Danie:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>"The year is finally almost over. This is your first official month as a thirty year-old, and the month of glitter, and gifts, and giving. Buckle up!"</li>
<li>"Keep being kind. You know better than anyone that being hateful isn't helping anything. You're doing what's best by not stooping to ugly levels, just keep being kind. Even if it's difficult."</li>
</ul>
<br />
<b>last but not least... here's a quote. </b>Because all you can do is choose to forgive. Be kind and forgive. It doesn't help anybody to be a dickhead. <br />
<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-75826463304602582472014-10-21T22:03:00.000-07:002014-10-21T22:03:29.633-07:00Just Under Three More Weeks... I have just under three more weeks and then I'll be thirty.<br />
<br />
Thirty.<br />
<br />
I've been spending the last several weeks reflecting on the Danie from ten years ago. The Danie who was about to turn twenty was a goddamned mess. I found her blog and am ashamed that it was me who wrote it. I must say that it's a relief that I've always been so raw with my feelings when writing, but the content itself is so unnecessary and unimportant given the changes that I have undergone in the last ten years.<br />
<br />
Turning twenty seems like it was tremendously devastating for me. I was going through what I had assumed would be the largest ordeals of my life, when in comparison, they were small fries. I was preparing to move to England and in turn, uproot my entire life for the sake of a love that I had little expectation would end only slightly less quickly than it had begun. I was drastically in love and content to shout it from the rooftops. I was the centre of my universe with little or no regard to anything or anyone that tried to distract from that. I alienated every single person from my life who didn't hold me on a pedestal, unwilling to acknowledge or feel any compassion for anybody but my own self. And for what? I lost several months of friendship with one of the most important and influential people in my life. I said embarrassingly hateful things to people who wanted nothing but to see me make decisions that were going to make my future as beautiful as I wanted it to be. People who were frustrated and exhausted with my petulant attitude and need for constant attention.<br />
<br />
Actual constant attention. I literally posted like six entries a day, every single day. I was begging for people to idolize my desperation. There was no notice of other people, their needs, or really anything except how they could help me.<br />
<br />
I was living in an ugly world. Nineteen for me was just an awful time and I wish I could go back and slap myself around a little bit and talk some sense to myself. So many ties were severed in those several months before turning twenty and I hate that I let myself get that bad. <br />
<br />
And since, I have gone to England, gotten married, lost my mother, gotten divorced, moved back to America, lost a couple of best friends, gotten married again, lost my grandmother, begun school, and endured the agonizing job that is step-parenting. And that's a nutshell, just a little snippet of the large, sweeping events that have headlined my life in the past ten years. It's been a highly eventful decade that has seen beauty and horrible. Seen great strides that have been painful, but have turned me into a person that I am proud of who has grown and learned hugely.<br />
<br />
Now, today, I am just over three weeks to thirty and over three-quarters into my education, happily making my marriage into something I can be infinitely prouder of every day, and building friendships with people who are special and just as willing to let me uplift their lives as they do mine. It's a much more fulfilling and satisfying leap into a new decade. I have achieved many things and come through a gigantic amount of experiences and I couldn't be happier with where my life is right now.<br />
<br />
So, as I go into my next ten years. My thirties. I'm not as scared as I was prior to my twenties. I am eagerly awaiting what my next adventure will look like. How many more beautiful people I will meet, and what new experiences I will have. I can't wait to find out what I will learn and how I will grow. It's not as scary of a time for me and I welcome it with open arms.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-33217964057125117562014-10-07T20:02:00.001-07:002014-10-07T20:02:33.733-07:00Tuesday, October 7thOver a month.<br />
<br />
It's been over a month since I've blogged. But don't think that that's because I hate any of you or because I died. It's because I've been busy as holy god in school and then I was organizing the house and then I was sick as a fucking dog. I've only just become able-bodied enough to drag myself off of my sofa, so here I am, after a long day at school and grocery shopping, posting a blog about the things that have been good in the past month.<br />
<br />
So here goes!<br />
<br />
<b>Hubby got me pumpkin pie</b>... I've been SO sick. I actually thought I was dying for a day. I couldn't eat, had a horrible fever, and couldn't consume anything without wanting to vomit. But the instant I COULD eat again? That gorgeous husband of mine remembered that I'd been complaining about wanting pumpkin pie for weeks. Being the smarty-farty that he is, he went to the supermarket under the guise of getting me anti-nausea pills and a thermometer, also got me an entire pumpkin pie and THEN helped me hand-whip some cream to put on the pie. He's an angel and loves me so much. Almost as much as I love him. <br />
<b>American Horror Story</b>... During my bout of illness I spent a lot of time lying on the sofa and in that time I decided to catch up on my favourite season of American Horror Story in preparation for the upcoming one. So I watched all of Asylum in the last four days and don't feel even an ounce of guilt. Roll on tomorrow for the new season to start!<br />
<b>makeup pallets</b>... I'm obsessed with makeup right now and I've got a fairly substantial collection that I've accrued over the years. I'm a proud girl.<br />
<b>wiener dog races</b><br />
<b>tuna salad</b><br />
<b>The Space Needle</b>... So. Last year was Hubby's thirtieth birthday and we couldn't afford to do a single thing for it, so I vowed to make sure that this year was special for him. I saved my ass off and planned like a maniac to ensure that he felt like the most important person in the world. I booked us a Groupon of sorts to eat at the top of the Space Needle, above all the buildings in Seattle. We dined over candlelight and watched the sun go down over the water as we listened to the bustle of all the other diners who were almost certainly not having as glorious as time as us. It was a really special night for him and I am happy that I spent so much time planning and saving for.<br />
<b>organizing our home</b>... trying bit-by-bit to get everything sorted and where I want it to be. Things are coming together slowly, but it's been a challenge with school and work and sickies. It's getting there. <br />
<b>my job</b>... I love my job. I love the people I work with. I love feeling like I contribute substantially to the betterment of our household (which is a HUGE thing for me! My amazing husband has been supporting the two of us almost on his own. But now that I am working TWO jobs, it's been really great for me to feel like things are a lot more equal and fair for him. Plus, I get my own money to spend on things that I love without having to ask for permission, which is really nice)<br />
<b>doing makeup</b>... I'm really good at it and it's super-satisfying, so I've taken a pretty massive amount of time to learn as much as I can about it.<br />
<b>Adam Carrolla</b>... He's hilarious. Go check out his podcast. <br />
<b>VetTix.com</b><br />
<b>OMGBIRTHDAY</b>... It's in a month guys and I've been carefully crafting and saving for ANOTHER special event. I wanted for my thirtieth birthday to be a fabulously spectacular celebration that I've worked hard to have, so I've created that for myself. I'm very excited!<br />
<b>Modern Family</b><br />
<b>puppy snuggles</b><br />
<b>soda water</b><br />
<b>nice doctors</b><br />
<b>NEW LUSH STUFF</b><br />
<b>Ikea</b><br />
<b>Hubby's new job</b>... It makes me so happy to see him so happy.<br />
<br />
Alright, time to go take a bath and chill in bed. Have a fabulous week guys!<br />
<br />
<b> </b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-63980198966690345712014-09-02T21:37:00.001-07:002014-09-02T21:37:51.818-07:00Tuesday, Sept 2ndFinally taking a break to blog. I've been pretty heavily consumed by The Sims 4 for the last day, so this is taking a lot out of me. You all need to know that. <br />
<br />
I'm sitting and relaxing with my gorgeous hubby in my gorgeous house watching some of my favourite shows. It's been a great week and I'm finally enjoying some time away from school and lavishing in every moment of it. I'll be tidying the house, re-organizing my life, and doing LOADS of crafting (most of the people I love will be getting beautiful handmade items from our home for the holidays this year. And, AND!! I'LL BE MAKING WREATHES BECAUSE I FINALLY HAVE A DOOR TO PUT THEM ON!)<br />
<br />
Anyways, I'll get on with my list, as I have a lot more Sims to play and also Ink Master is on. <br />
<br />
<br />
<b>When dramatic interest is drawn by children's songs featuring gentle approaches to death</b>... I was watching Desperate Housewives the other day and Susan was in a car with David Dash (for those of you not familiar, he was driving her to the death he felt she deserved for many reason) and she began singing the old woman and the fly song to calm her son... The lyrics "perhaps she'll die" hit right at the moment of impact and it was VERY exciting. Also, for something a little more modern, in World War Z, when the family is in the middle of the city and they watch a man get bit, die, and then come back to life, the Sesame Street bit (counting trains) counts the amount of time it takes for the zombie to re-animate. It's incredible and gives a creepy, fun vibe to scary scenes.<br />
<b>Chemical peels</b>... I am literally completely obsessed with these right now. I've begun a series of them and my skin has never looked better. I want to get them constantly right now. I'm so fascinated by the reactions the different peels have on the skin and love learning about combinations and effects long term. <br />
<b>croissant sandwiches</b><br />
<b>passion tea from Starbucks</b><br />
<b>mustard</b><br />
<b>waxing</b>... and I'm pretty badass at it. Deal with it. <br />
<b>Derek</b>... This show is such a gorgeously painful piece of art. Muffin and I have been watching it for the last week or so and every single episode has made us weep. It's a beautiful, sad, hilarious, and wonderful show. It makes me miss England so much and makes my heart swell for reasons that a lot of other shows don't. They approach ugly topics that a lot of other shows refuse to and I love that. <br />
<b>Guardians of the Galaxy</b>... WATCH IT RIGHT NOW!<br />
<b>reading</b><br />
<b>true crime books</b><br />
<b>Esthetic Sciences</b><br />
<b>taco burgers</b><br />
<b>korean bbq jerky</b><br />
<b>F.R.I.E.N.D.S</b>... all the episodes. All the time.<br />
<b>Ikea</b><br />
<b>Maleficent</b><br />
<b>organizing my life</b><br />
<b>when i cut something with a knife that cut garlic previously</b>...There is a residual flavour that I just adore. Last night I had some ice water with lemon that was clearly cut with a knife that had recently also cut some garlic. It was my favourite super-lemon water, but with the tiniest hint of garlic and I couldn't get enough of it. <br />
<b>Funny one-liners from news anchors</b>... today, for instance, an anchor was covering schoolkids and their return to their prospective institutions. He was talking about the ramping-up of police around schools because people like to drive like maniacs apparently, when school begins. he finished the feed by saying "While the kids are learning their abc's, driver's better mind their p's and q's."<br />
<b>Sims 4</b><br />
<b>Sephora</b>... Good LORD I am obsessed with this place! I get a sweet discount right now and I'm taking full advantage of it. My makeup has been ramped up and I'm so pleased.<br />
<b>My makeup skills</b>... On that note, people should know that I am freaking awesome at applying makeup. Several of the people in my class asked me constantly to apply their makeup and my confidence is riding high. Maybe I'll upload some photos. <br />
<br />
Alright. I'm done for the evening. Time to snuggle my puppy and hubby. Have a wonderful night all, I know I will. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-44917335395594123562014-07-28T18:11:00.000-07:002014-07-28T18:11:08.177-07:00Great Wolf Lodge... <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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SO. It's been a painfully hot summer here in the Pacific Northwest and we were gifted a really brief reprieve from the heat by my oh-so-beautiful mother-in-law, who booked us a room at a resort we've been desperate to stay at pretty much since the day I arrive back in the States.<br />
<br />
Every drive by its outdoor water slides would send me into a fit of jealousy that I could barely contain as I murmured under my breath about how poor we were and how much I hated EVERY person in that water park because I couldn't be there.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0CC8QFjAA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.greatwolf.com%2Fgrandmound%2Fwaterpark&ei=dbzCU_jqA8XUiwLpkoHoAQ&usg=AFQjCNE5wqxTVrrti3gWp01JSDL2YkH9Vw&sig2=BrPWr-tqkIgqcL96fcK3Kg">Great Wolf Lodge</a> is marketed as a gigantic water park that's inside (which is wildly necessary because Washington makes me want to die with all it's OMGITNEEDSTORAINEVERYDAY bullshit) a humidity-controlled resort. What it REALLY is, is a money sink. The rooms themselves are outrageously with absolutely nothing included. No meals, no transportation, no nothing. You get to go play in their actually pretty small water park and then sleep in their rooms, which are one of the only things I appreciated about the trip.<br />
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Upon arrival, Muffin was forced to wait in line to check in for nearly an hour, as there were only two staff working the front desk at peak check-in time. Once he finally made it up to the counter, after getting the key and purchasing a "Paw Pass" (which is a glorified sight-seeing pass for a facility that isn't big enough to need to see the sights. The pass itself gets you a wolf-themed Build-a-Bear, a small cup of Mike and Ike's, a small sundae, a t-shirt, and a glitter tattoo. Molly got to spend her own money on this waste, as we were not going to drop forty dollars for fifteen bucks worth of junk) for the child, he had to all but fight the staff for two more sets of ears (that easily had a wholesale cost of fifty cents) for the two of us.<br />
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Our room wasn't ready when we arrived, so we were allowed to go out into the waterpark and the staff assured us that they would call the instant our room was ready for us to move on in. They assured us that it wouldn't be more than an hour, and that we could play in the park to our heart's content, so we did.<br />
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The park itself? Small and not good enough. For being marketed as a fabulous indoor waterpark, it was disappointing. I can totally understand why, as a ten-year-old, it would be the most fabulous place in the world, but for THIS almost thirty-something? Terrible. Lockers were twenty dollars each to reserve for the remaining eight hours of the day, band-aids and log strands of hair kept entangling themselves with my toes, and the lifeguards and staff were atrocious. I am a particular fan of good customer service. I personally feel that if you are going to work with the public, you should take a specific interest in being respectful, kind, and helpful, especially if you are going to work in a place where your patience is going to be tried. So why, in the name of god, would people with such bitter, negative attitudes, work in a place where they not only need to be sensitive to people with herds of small children, but also people who are insecure or uncomfortable in their own skin, being thrust into a bathing suit for the sake of their children's joy? The staff were atrocious. They were unhelpful, disrespectful, and intolerable, which is unacceptable. <br />
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Two painful hours in the tide pool later, no phone call had been received. Muffin called the front desk, only to have them have no idea who we were or why we were wanting a room. We made our way to the front desk, finally gained the secret knowledge as to where our room was, and went to dry off in the safety of our room. A room that was, like I said, the only good part about our trip (apart from spending a wonderful night with our favourite friends). The room was huge, had a balcony (which didn't come cheap, by the way), a tiny TV (which was broken and had to be replaced), the littlest shower in the world, and OMGCOMFYBEDS. The beds were easily the best part. They were plush, huge, and covered in pillows.<br />
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I didn't want to leave my bed, but the lure of food enticed me. Unfortunately, the foodplace in the hotel was a buffet at a whopping twenty bucks a head, so there was no way we were going to eat THERE. We instead walked en masse to a burger place next door (who really deserve their own poor rating, but I just can't stand to drone on for ages about their overpriced burgers, which were tasty, but not worth the pennies) to have some chow before going back to the hotel so that Molly could buy a thirty buck piece of plastic with the last of her money that she could wave around to see paintings come "alive" in front of their very eyes (OMGMAGICAL).<br />
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We then swam for another forty minutes and then made our way between the ice cream parlour (where we promptly gave up one of our limbs), the build-a-bear workshop, the arcade (which was my second-favourite part of the trip, as, after an hour and many dollars of trying to win a specific toy, my whining prompted the staff to open the machine and GIVE me a toy), and the disco going on in the great room.<br />
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It was overall just exhausting and nearly put us in the poor house. We were lucky that someone else paid for the room, because otherwise we wouldn't have made it through the trip financially. A lot of improvements can stand to be made, and I hope that they shape things up.<br />
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Two-and-a-half stars out of five. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852515400439432344.post-81710623409358903822014-07-08T19:32:00.000-07:002014-07-08T19:32:14.447-07:00Tuesday, July 8thIt feels like it is literally the hottest day in the world. I want to die right now.<br />
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The child and I are sitting around, trying not to melt away by filling the living room with fans and reducing the amount of clothes we are wearing considerably. We're watching a film and waiting for the sun to go down so that we can go outside and play.<br />
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I have about four blogs to post tonight, two or three on here and one on my other blog, so I'll get on with this Tuesday and move on to them...<br />
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<b>TJ Miller</b><br />
<b>free cinema visits</b>... I follow a lot of groups where I am lucky enough to get a whole heap of free stuff, including a phone last year, lots of toilet paper, and free cinema tickets. My most recent free fabulousness came in the form of two free pre-screening tickets to see the new film The Purge: Anarchy. I'll do a blog about it in a bit, but I wanted to make sure that I gave some love to how much I love new films and especially love to go and see them for free with my BFF on a Monday evening! <br />
<b>thrillers</b><br />
<b>water parks</b>... NOT the prices, just the experience. I can't even begin to describe how much I hate the prices at places set out to entertain children and steal money from their unsuspecting parents. Again, I have begun a blog about my latest experience at a water park, so you'll have to wait for that. Just suffice it to say that I love them, but only the water part, not the fleecing. <br />
<b>waxing</b>... I'm badass at it and you should totally be jealous that you're not here to get waxed by me right now. <br />
<b>crocheting</b><br />
<b>Wen Fa</b>... Hot. Towels. On. My. Sternum and neck. DO IT. <br />
<b>ice packs</b>... They make everything okay on these painfully hot nights. <br />
<b>cuddles</b><br />
<b>bedtime</b>... particularly with Molly here. Every night at bedtime we get to lay her in bed, talk about life, her other home, her friends, her favourite parts of our day, and then we give cuddles and kisses and go to bed. It's really nice and I'll miss it when she leaves, but I'm really glad that her mum also gets to spend so much time with such a great little lady. Knowing that all her love and fun and cleverness is being spread around the country is heartwarming. Her mummy deserves every bit of love that she gets from her. <br />
<b>road trips</b><br />
<b>planning my Thirtieth</b>... Yeah, that's right. In 128 days I will be thirty and I've been planning like a fiend. I want to do something special and important, even if it IS just for me and Hubby to experience (unless, of course, any of YOU want to meet us and celebrate as well!)<br />
<b>organizing my Pinterest</b><br />
<b>The VA</b>... After many, MANY weeks of strife and concern, I was given something magical from my dad AND the VA. Because of my dad's service-related injuries, he's recently been awarded one hundred percent disability and because he's my daddy I get to have my education covered by his GI bill. I can't believe that finally, after all the crap that's been showered upon our household, we are being gifted something so special. I'm finally catching a break and I couldn't thank my father or the VA more. <br />
<b>my dad</b><br />
<b>Denise</b>... she's an angel. One of my classmates and one of the people I'm closest with at the moment. I love her so much. <br />
<b>bonding with classmates</b>... Some of them. do you guys remember when I was in Cosmo and I was dealing with bullshit high school drama? That shit is creeping up again with a few of my classmates and I'm furious about it. I just want to be in a class where I can learn and not have to deal with dramatic crap. Why is that SO HARD?! A few of my classmates, though? They're gems. They are kind, hilarious, and really great to just sit and talk to. We're still all learning about one another, but it's been fun!<br />
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Alright. I've got stuff to do... Namely a bath with a super sexy bath bomb just before working on another blog or two and organizing more of my pinterest.<br />
<b> </b><br />
Have a fabulous night and be well! Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11388912617065047634noreply@blogger.com