I Get Knocked Down

Recently, I've fallen into the "Just Moved Here Blues." This is similar to the "I've-been-here-2-months-and-am-still-unemployed Blues," the "I've-been-doing-this-basically-3-years-now-you'd-think-it-gets-easier-Blues," and the infamous "I've-been-here-10-months-and-now-I-have-to-start-thinking-about-moving-Blues." All in all, I feel like I'm in this perpetual state of Blue-hood.

But then I sit and talk my life out loud and...it sounds pretty fucking awesome, if I don't say so myself. I move to different, exciting and occasionally exotic locations (I count Toronto as being exotic). I get to try a new job each year, meet new people, explore new areas, see all new things. It sounds fucking righteous, right? But it's hard. And I can't decide if I'm making it harder then it's suppose to be.

Is it my lack of motivation? Is it the fact that finding a job fucking sucks? Is it the fact that I'm alone all day while Jake's at work? Who's making me be alone? Is it me? Do I really need someone to hand me everything on a platter to make it easier? When will be find the inner motivation or drive to try to make myself happier?

Or the more simple approach: what the fuck am I doing?

It's when I get like this that it begins to take a noticeable toll on my relationship. I feel like I'm a fucking cat that someone's try to force into a carrier. Does that sound ridiculous? Because it feels ridiculous. But my thing is is that I can't figure out how to get myself out of the box, out of the forceful hands, out of this predicament. I knew what I was getting into when I decided to go on this leg of my journey, so why can't I accept it for what it's worth? Why can't I seem to accept what I actively chose to do?

I feel like now is a good time to interject that Jacob is possibly the best. most loving person I could ever want to be with. Everything he does, he does with me in mind. He is amazing.

So why am I being so selfish?
Why can't I just take control of my life like I know I can and I know I want to?

I am the Mist.

I know it's been a reoccurring post here on my ol' bloggy, but it's a reoccurring theme in my life as of late. The constant battle to feel comfortable.

This past weekend I was sitting in the back row at a theater watching the dancers from ADA, the studio I work for, compete in their first competition of the year. I sat there for a good hour, just by myself. I didn't mind, I really enjoying dancing, especially young dancers because I think they have so much potential and it's refreshing to see young people dedicated and putting their whole life into something. 

After a while, I realized something. As long as I sit here, nobody will know I'm here. The people shuffling in and out of the theater, they'd look at me but nobody knew me, nobody really knew I was there. To them, I'm a stranger, they don't care. But then again, to this entire city, I'm a stranger. I'm stuck in this stranger's skin.

Courtesy of Jartweb.

The day before this moment, a co-worker turned to me and laughed. She said that if she didn't have to be at the competition, she wouldn't be and here I am, voluntarily at the competition being supportive of everyone and enjoying myself. That's when I realized that I'm only a fleeting moment in these peoples' lives. In three years, they won't remember me but forever, this will be a huge part of my life. I will forever remember Toronto in fondness because I found people that made me feel accepted. But, with no negative feelings towards anyone I'm referencing, I'm like a sliver to them: stuck in the shallow folds of their skin but will soon be plucked out and forgotten about. And that made me feel truly like a wallflower (and you know my obsession with The Perks of Being a Wallflower), the word just seems to fit me. 

But it's not all bad. Over the past few years, I've become this observer. I stand off to the sit, occasionally stepping into the circle, but essentially I just observe people. I get to know names and families and personalities. I catch bits and pieces of their lives and form a whole story based on what I observe. In my mind, these people are quite real. They go to school, go to work, have friends and relationships and it's all in my mind. I live in half and half: half imaginary and half reality. If I ever do become a fiction writer, I'll sure have some good material for characters.

Maybe that's just what I'm destined to be: the Observer. Like an official career title, I'll go through life, effecting little and observing a lot. Then, when it's time, I'll document all my stories in a historical fiction kind of way, maybe a memoir (if my life is ever important enough to record). And all my characters will be based upon the people whom I have met along the way and who have changed me, even if they don't know they have or don't care that they have.

It comes this time of year, when I start becoming nostalgic and emotional. It's time to start thinking about moving, it's time to start moving parts of me while other parts want to hold onto what I have here. But the reality is is that it's time to start mentally packing, to start distancing myself and preparing to be in a strange place again. 

I see myself like a mist in the fall. It creeps in, coating everything in a blanket of distortion. Then once the sun comes up, I dissipate. You'll remember me as something that was there for a fleeting moment and now is gone.

Something to Miss.

Oh, Annex.

Last night was the Competitive Showcase for the studio where I work. I started there in September and soon realized just how awesome all these people are. From the students and their families to the teachers and faculty. It's weird to think, but I found a little home away from home. 

As I sit here getting ready to head back into the studio for Saturday classes, I kind of just got sad. I have a little over 4 months left here in Toronto and, after watching all the girls I've gotten accustomed to seeing every day and spending some quality time with the teachers (who I now consider my friends), I realize that I finally feel like I belong somewhere. That's a feel you don't get often when you move every year.

It's not a feeling that I can describe very well. It's like seeing a person you missed very much for the first time in a long time. It's like a relief. It's like sitting down after a really long day. It just feels so nice, that relief, that seeing someone you miss, that finally having people who you feel you belong with. I am very grateful that I have something from this year that I will remember forever and will always have with me. 

Company members getting ready for a half time show.

When I started on this journey, after a rough year in Connecticut, I was afraid that the rest would be the same. That I wouldn't feel like I belonged anywhere other then Oregon. That I wouldn't meet people who liked me or understood me or accepted me like my friends and family in Oregon. I think I was more afraid that I would come away from all of this without any really good connections or memories. But now I have something good to move on with. 

I just hope that in a year, 5 years, maybe 10, that these people who have touched my life, can look back and remember me too. 

I'll miss Toronto, that's for sure.

Forming Sentences.

Before Christmas, I was having a lot of problems writing a post and finishing it. In my draft folder, I have literally 14 posts. All started but none finished. But I think that's the problem I was having last year (it's fun to say that). I have a lot of words that want to come out, but I can't form enough full sentences to complete the post.

Even today, right now, I'm having a problem focusing my brain long enough to put this together. Has anyone else had that problem?

There's a lot coming up in this year and I'm looking forward to it all. I'm going to find a way to express myself and I'm trying with words. For now, this is all I have.

Soymilk, nutmeg and honey.

Future.

Since I moved away from home in the summer of 2011, I've been having a really hard time adjusting to life. Adjusting to new places, new people and most of all, starting over all the time. I knew it was going to be difficult, but I never imagined it would be this difficult.

Christmas Joy.

But, I'm glad to report, that it's slowly getting easier. 

Yesterday I finished my first real internship at Post City Magazine. For three months, I was pulling double duty, working at the magazine in the morning then going to work at night. Besides being completely exhausted (so much so for the last week I kept sleeping through my work out alarm!), I actually started to grow more and more excited about the future. 

I've started feeling more confident about myself. Now I know what I am capable of, I feel more confident to head into the world and actually start developing my own career as a writer.

Over the past two weeks or so, I've been e-mailing a friend and former college editor about life. I always looked up to him because he is so talented and someone who's opinion a really trusted.  I asked him what I should do next, where should I go from here, how do I transition from this internship to life. And after a few e-mails, he pointed something out that made me have a light bulb moment. 

I'm having a hard time narrowing down a career because I just have too many ideas. 

At first I considered this a potentially bad thing. But over the past few days, I think I'm going to be okay. I like that I have many idea on what I want to do with my life. I like that I have so many options for my future, as long as I'm proactive with them. 

I'm going to spend the rest of my time here in Toronto participating in internships in different fields, working on narrowing down what I love to do. I'm going to build an sturdy portfolio, gain a lot of experience and go into my next move prepared for the future. 

I'm feeling really good about life right now. Maybe it's the sudden bank of free time. Maybe it's the Christmas mug I'm drinking coffee out of it. Maybe it's the less then two week countdown I have going for Christmas vacation. But maybe I am just, finally, finding myself.

With Your Head Down.

Over the past few and a bit, I enjoy my walks. Whether it was walking to work in New Haven or walking to the subway now, I enjoy moving at a slower pace. It gives me more time to look around and take things in. I've also noticed that it allows me to observe more of my surroundings and get to know where I am better.

It wasn't until the other day, however, that I noticed a trend.

When I'm walking somewhere new, down a new street or taking a new way to work, or even on a stroll with Jake, I'm always looking up. I like to look at things around me and people around me as best I can. But the occasions where I'm walking somewhere familiar, I walk with my head down. And not just looking down. I've noticed that I walk with my head hanging down.

After a little reading on the subject, I've learned that my head down means I have self confidence issues and don't want to be looked at. Interestingly enough, both of those are true. While I'm slowly getting more comfortable with myself and accepting me for who I am, I still face self confidence issues and no, I don't really like to be looked at.

Another article says that walking with you hands in your pockets could mean you are unhappy with how you look and, combined with your head downs, means you're unhappy. I walk like this frequently. I put my hands in my pockets because it's cold, or so I thought. Could this mean that subconsciously I'm more unhappy that I know?

Today, I was walking down the long hallway at work back to my desk and I noticed that I was passing people and 99% of the time I have my head down. I started making the conscious effort to have my head up, smile and look at people more. I'm such a social being. I thrive on being social and having friends. Has the past year and a bit or moving a lot and being in places where I don't know people turned me into a recluse?

How do you walk? What do you think it says about you??

Projection.

You know when you've been through something traumatic and you start to get over those feelings. Then out of the blue, something brings those emotions right back up and you're suddenly swimming with your feelings again?

That just happened.

I just watched a group of tight friends having to say a rushed good bye to their friend who's moving away for good. They came rushing out of class to give her big hugs and they all burst into tears. I was full unaware of what was happening and why there was a gaggle of half crying teenagers in my lobby.

Then the father said their friend was moving away. For good.

It literally took all my might not to collasp in a heap of tears and throw my arms around these girls I don't know. I felt ever little pang, twinge, tear and guilt that I did when I moved away. I felt every emotion that I pushed away. Every hug I pulled away from. Every good bye I shyed away from.

See, for a person who says a lot of them, I'm horrific with good byes. I can't do it. They make me so uncomfortable with them. I'd rather blow it off and tell you over the phone. It's ridiculous.

The morning my family took me to the airport as I started my journey away from home, I smiled and hugged and said I'd be fine. Everyone handed me envelopes, letter they had written to me. I was told to read them on the plane.

But I didn't. I remember taking them out of my purse and holding them on my lap. They sat there the whole plane ride and I put them back in my purse at the end. It took me a good two weeks to read those. Then I ended up bawling.

I only read those letter once. I know exactly where they are, I just haven't read them more then once. I very much dislike the pain I feel when I think of all the loved ones I left behind. I know I'll make new friends and develop a new 'family' to not replace my family but to substitute while I'm away. It just takes time and during that time, I can't seem to bring myself to move on yet.

Sunday Thoughts: Real Pain.

Sometimes I wonder whether I'll ever feel real pain. Like the real aching, mind altering, deep, whole pain. I know I've felt pain before, both physical and emotional, but it's never been real pain.

I've gotten dumped before, but I've never lost someone I love.
I've hurt myself physically but have never been hurt so badly my life is threatened. 

I wonder if I ever will feel that. I wonder if I ever want to feel that. I think I want to feel that. I think I won't know what it's like to be alive until I feel a pain like that.

Source.

Fall Week: Memories

Summer is winding down. The ice cream trucks are becoming few and far between. The sun leaves the air warm for a while, but once it goes down the air becomes cool. Every night doesn't smell like barbeque anymore, the hot dogs and corn of summer have gone away. It now smells like new pencils and paper.

The end of summer is always bittersweet. By September 1st I'm ready to leave my short shorts behind and cover my legs for the winter. I'm ready to be cold outside and not inside because the AC is on too high (still something I consider a summer crime). I'm ready to drink hot beverages without sweating. I'm ready for holiday decorating, holiday parties and all the perks that come with the holiday season.

My sister, my mom, my dad and myself.
End of the summer swimming at
 Kah-Nee-Tah Indian
Reservation.

Fall also brings back memories of school. Not just the blissful faux-adulthood of college, but of high school, middle school and even elementary school, however the memories are becoming few and far between these days. Fall always brought a budding social life, new challenges and, even better, new things. The smell of new text books, the noisy buzz of classrooms, the crumpling of paper and exchanging of favorite reading material.

The days of Fall I miss start back when I was little. Back when my sister and I went to the same school. Holcomb Elementary, which was located literally around the bend from our house yet we never walked to school, held my whole world. Each fall came the early hours, the grumpy breakfasts and the ever loved waiting for the school bus. 

My sister and I with our chickens.
Spring brought chicks, fall brought fresh eggs!

Each morning my sister and I would stand at the front corner of the porch which overlooked our road. We could see the bus as it stopped to turn onto our street. In this moment we would run out the gate and line up at the road. My mom always watched from the front door, usually hiding enough to not be seen because it was early and "she didn't have her eyebrows on." These morning are my favorite early memory. In my memories, it was chilly, foggy even. We could see our breath on the air. On the mornings closer to Thanksgiving and Christmas, we would sing. Do you remember the old Fred Meyer commercials? Home again for the holidays, my favorite time of year, yes, it's so nice to come home. My sister and I would spend the few minutes standing together on the porch to sing that song. Fall, to me, are these mornings.

My sister, me and my Grandma (Always in her best furs)

What fall memories do you have?

Primadonna Girl.

Life has a funny way of revamping itself, doesn't it? I have found, since my move to Ex-Pat territory (meaning since I moved to Canada) that my life has almost completely shifted. 

I used to use my blog as a way of sharing my life, yes, but also as a way to escape my current situation. I was unhappy in New Haven, lets be real. I didn't want to bartend anymore I wanted to start a career. I wanted to feel as though I was doing something that I personally considered productive.

Then moving to Toronto, I've found a new step on my ladder! One door closed and another has opened! While I consider myself really lucky to score the internship that I did, I received an invitation to become the new intern at Post City magazine last week. I really wanted this position when I interviewed for it and am really excited that I got it!

What's the downfall of all of these big steps and changes since becoming an Ex-Pat? I haven't done much blogging! And it's breaking my heart!! I have so many great stories to share and cool new things, well new to me! So I've decided to take a week to get reorganized. I'm going to update my blog calender, get some pictures and posts ready. Stock up, if you will. Then we're on a roll!!

I want this blog to be a successful representation of my life and to get there, I need to put some work in!!

For now, here is a song/video that I can't seem to take off repeat.

What A Girl Wants.

Something came to my attention this morning as I was getting ready for work. Keep in mind, "work" for me right now is an unpaid internship working out of a woman's dining room. 90% of the time I'm alone and the only people I do have physical interaction with is usually her housekeeper. There is no need to really actually get dressed for this position. But, alas, I do each day.

Every Morning.

This morning, I was feeling pretty good. I worked out extra hard this morning and was feeling sassy. After three cups of coffee and a good scrub in the shower, I was ready to face my closet. Let's talk about this for a minute. My closet has always needed help. I'm honestly not sure how I got through college. I can either dress for laundry day (you know that day where everything else is dirty so you wear one red and one yellow sock with blue plaid pants and a purple tank top) or to go clubbing...or to go clubbing when I was 20 pounds lighter. Get the picture?

I've been longing lately to dress how I feel. Some can argue that the clothing you wear really makes or breaks your mood. I know from personal experience I cannot successfully go clothes shopping if I don't think I look good. I wanted to desperately to feel good and look good today, but I settled for the capri's that don't fit very well and an old lime green t-shirt with headphones on it. Honestly, I feel like I look 17 again. I don't want to look 17 again.

I get a lot of fashion inspiration from
Kendi. She has the best outfits.

So where's the cut off point? When do we stop being teen agers and 21-ers and finally decide it's okay to be grown up and to look grown up? When do t-shirt and baggy jeans give way to a fitted blouse and cute skirt on the regular instead of the occasional job interview? When did I start craving nice dresses over those that hug my hips so tight that each step is daring and provocative? (Okay, that one is easy...when I gained my 20 pounds back! Oops...) How am I to continue on my adult life journey if I feel like I'm dressing in my teens still?

Have you noticed a change in your style yet? How did you adjust to the new way of life? 

Dear Me.

A good friend once told me, 

I can't let anyone love me until I love myself.

I'm pretty sure my whole world shattered in that moment, ya'll. And it was from that moment that I struggled with loving myself. To this day, at age 24, I still struggle to love myself. So how do I start?

Thank GOODNESS that Wikihow has all the answers! Lets look at their suggestions and see how well I do.

I Love You, Me.

1. Treat other's with love and respect: I think I'm doing a good job at that! I give everyone the same respect that I think I deserve.

2. Create goodwill and thankfulness by practicing random acts of kindness and sharing your being to many: Okay, I don't think I do this...yet. I have a project in the works right now where I would be sharing my positivity and (at least trying) to spread random acts of kindness...More on this later!

3. Express yourself, perhaps in letters or articles when you have a topic: Oh my garsh, blog much?! I do that! Actually, I think I've really starting doing that. I tried so hard to be every other cute blog out there but it's just not me. So I'm sticking to my guns :)

5. Forgive yourself: *Note: I will be skipping some numbers because there are 24 of these so...* This is something that I think I need to work on. I put myself down way too often. I mean Jacob and I used to fight about it bc he hates that I do it. So I'm working on that. 

6. Post positive statements everywhere so you can smile: Two post it's that are a must on my mirror, "You are beautiful," and "I have courage."

10. Be persistent: I should keep at loving myself. I def go through phases where I'm super positive and upbeat and love myself then literally 12 minutes later I'm down in the dumps. I just need to believe in myself!

13. Hug yourself: Okay :)

20. Do what you love: I spend at least an hour each day blogging, which is something I love. I also have been exploring dance classes for when I have a job. Doing something you love lifts your spirits and reminds you what real joy feels like.

23. Don't compare yourself to others: Oh, I do this a lot. I think I majored in it in college. I have to stop doing this. Anyone got pointers??

24. Stop trying to be perfect: I think I have that one in the bag. I am so okay with not being perfect. I'm probably the weirdest person I know and I am darn proud of that!

Sorry for all the mushy self-love but I'm feeling like I'm in the need right now. I've been job hunting for what seems like YEARS now and, with no end in near sight, I just need a little affirmation that I can do this. And who better to be my pick-me-up then, well me!

Do you have any tips on reaching self love??

Check out the full article here.

Are You Coming?

When you leave, I move to your side of the bed. When you're not home, I still move there. It makes me feel me closer.

I think of you all the time when we're apart. I wonder what you do, who you talk with, what you watch. I wonder who you are when I'm not around. When you're not around, I am not fully myself.

I look back, search back through all that has happened. Through the waiting, the tears, the smiles, the visits. I search back for the beginning. For when I let it all go and stepped onto my own path.

It was early fall, or mid fall. The idea of us had been played with. Dreamt about. But nothing put into action. I was having another spell, but you'd seen those spells before. I'd get reckless, disrespect myself, pretend to be happy. I was out of control, though few knew it. No direction, no purpose, not moving forward nor backward. Suspended in this constant state of unhappiness clouded by bottles of wine before bed. Just to sleep.

You called that day. I think hard of what your ring tone was back then. It changed with our changing status. I remember as clear as day where I was. At the top of the front stairs. Their fading gray paint always made me angry. Gray is no color for wood. 

Where you were was windy. You sounded out of breath and I imagined your cheeks red from cold. Quote will never come, some moments are so fleeting you only dream of remembering them in complete form. The conversation went something, paraphrased, like this:

-I signed with the company.

-That's really great, congratulations.

-That means I'm moving to the east coast after school.

-Oh.

-Are you coming?

Pause.

-Yes.

I was sitting on the bottom floor of the stairs. I could feel little pellets of kitty litter under my feet. I was hung over and cold. Shivers spread through my whole body. I had made up my mind to do whatever it took to get there. It seems millions of miles away. Trillions. Life times. But it didn't matter. It had to happen.

We were two people living separately. Pretending not to be interested when it was all we could think about. I imagine a movie montage of our lives, running parallel. His last years of college, my first in the real world. Days going by seamlessly but nights spent staring at the sky through cracked shutters. Wondering what he's doing. Waking to the alcohol induced text at 5am. 

How we got from there to here is still fuzzy. It feels like it all happened yesterday. It feels like I'm an ocean away from who I used to be. It feels like I'm a completely different person.

If you asked me three years ago where I would be on 2012, I would never have told you here. I would never have pegged him.

Forever and always.

Girls Life.

This morning, Jacob and I had the task of finding a magazine for his sister for her birthday. For her 30th 7th birthday. It's hard trying to find a gift for a sassy, independent, smart 7 year old without trapping her in childhood or propelling her into teen life. 

It was difficult. After Googling "best magazines for a 7 year old," we obtained a list that was interesting to read. It was between wholesome, all-American goodness and fashionista wanna-be's. Neither fit her. 

Eventually we found one that dabbled in a little of both but upheld some childhood values but what I kept thinking about were those little girls who do read CosmoGirl or ElleGirl way to young. 

CosmoGirl

Do you think exposing young girls to media like this at a young age really matters? Is there a problem there?

I remember what I was a tween and I would see my friends reading these magazines or see them on the rack at the store, I wanted that so badly! I wanted to be just like the girls on the cover. But mom wouldn't get them. 

In retrospect, I'm glad she didn't. I think that, if exposed at a young age, these magazines can be toxic to young girls. 

What do you think??

Lunch With Alice.

     Lunch with Alice has stemmed from Dinner with Alice which I tried to turn into a blog segment that just didn't get off the ground. I met Alice a few months back in the dark and dungy bar next to my house. We had been sent there by a mutual friend to meet up because we are both West Coast babies and obvio would connect right away. And I personally think we did!

     While we weren't the friends that spent every weekend together and know each other deep dark secrets, I always feel so comfortable with dear Alice. A conversation with Alice is always leaves me inspired, smiling and excited about anything that's coming up in my life. 

     We went to this little place down the street from my apartment called Sababa. It opened a few months ago and is a falafel place. Long story short, it was delicious, great price and just felt really fresh. 

      We sat in the courtyard in my apartment building. It's actually a really pretty place. It's above the street so you don't hear the pollution from the street while basking in this little haven. It's cooler today with more cloudy and breezes then I've seen all week. It was nice to sit in the shade and actually be cool. We sat and just shared. 

     [As I sit here writing this out, my dress is still warm from the sun. It's giving me that I-may-need-a-nap-in-the-afternoon kind of feeling. With all these warm thoughts, it may be easier to obtain!]

     It's so nice to find someone you can just be totally open with. I know I talk a lot, sometimes about relevant things and other times about things that probably do not matter, but she always just listens. I think it's so rare that you find someone so far from home that makes you feel so at home at the same time.

     Alice, if you're reading this I just want to say thank you for being my West away from home. You will truly be missed. Dinner with Alice will still be a fixture in my life, as I search for a new person to become my Alice in Toronto. I hope everything works out for you with your job and I hope you find that motivation, inspiration, light that you are searching for.

Stretch.

Source.

     Do you ever have those days where you just can't seem to stretch enough? Every time I move in my chair I end up stretching. I feel like there's all this built up energy in my muscles that can't seem to find it's way out. 
    But then...I can't seem to get out of this damn chair. Maybe it's not my muscles that need to stretch. Maybe it's my mind that needs to stretch out. I sit here watching the world around me from my desk and wonder, how will I get myself out of this chair? 
     I've been feeling, lately, like I'm in this remarkable place. I finally have this opportunity to make my moves into a career field that I want. The moment, the time you dream about, plan out, it's coming up. In one week. It's time to become this adult. I get to literally pick what I want to do next...as long as I apply myself and am confident (which is always a problem for me...) and I, ya know, GET the job I apply for...I can't help but think...am I ready? Can I do this?


     Anyone have any tips for this Nervous Nelly?
     

Something New.

      I'm going to try something new here. Something I don't think I've done in a long while. I usually wake up in the morning and lay in bed, listening to Jacob thundering around in the kitchen or closet getting ready for work. Well that's a partial lie: he tries to be quiet but something, I think he just forgets. He likes when I get up with him, plus I should do it anyway, it's way easier then when the house is quiet again. But anyway...


     I wake up in the morning and try to think of something super cute, super trendy, super something to blog about. Whether it's a DIY about wreath making (which seems to be my specialty...) or a new recipe for pancakes or some monochromatically inspired fashion post, I keep trying to follow blog-suit, to blog about what I think other would want to read about. But then I started thinking, after my brunch with Brandi in DC, that that is not what blogging is all about, is it? I started blogging as a way to share who I am, the ideas I have, the inspiration I have, not sharing what I've seen on other blogs and pretending that it's my own. So I thought I'd try something new today. I thought I'd try to share what's on my mind right now.


     I have a slight feeling that this post will be long, but I can always go back through and edit it, right??? It's been a long, long time since I've just sat down to see what comes out. I used to journal a lot, something I'm trying to get back into. I started when I tried dating a guy who was 10 years older then me and was HIV positive, something I can address later if anyone wants to hear that story, I had no one to talk to about it so I started writing it down. Then my journal grew into a third arm when I was in therapy and here I am now, two dozen later.


      But it wasn't since I was addicted to journaling that I've let myself sit down and just let it all out. I'm working on some new segments for my blog that I hope will stick and actually work out. I tried the Dinner with Alice bit and I liked the concept, but it didn't turn out as...creative as I thought. The concept I came up with was to research a certain kind of cuisine and find out why it's the way it is. For example, why is Indian food a lot of saucy entrees usually over rice? What was around them geographically or what happened to them culturally that evolved their food into that? But it just didn't stick. I want something more...me.


     So I've started compiling a list of things I'd personally like to explore. Brandi helped me see this. We were at this place called Open City in DC and it was so very precious. The kind of cafe that I could probably live in, being all hipster and India, sitting at a table with my glasses, coffee and journal observing life and making a living writing about it. Man, that would be cool. Anyway, I told her I really love creative writing. More so then anything. I would have gotten a degree in it if I wasn't obsessed with journalism in college. I also expressed my deep, growing love for bloody mary's. She suggested that once a week, I post a creative writing piece of my own. Something I either wrote that week or at some point in my life. Then she also suggested that I post a bloody mary of the week, since I have a bazillion pictures on my phone, all different BM's. 


      Getting to the point here...these suggestions would all be something I love, things I'm good at and things that would make my blog feel more like...well...me! And what I'm getting at is that isn't that the point?? We're suppose to be sharing who we are because we're awesome individually and even better when we're in the community of the blogging world!!! Well, world both blogging and otherwise, look out. I'm finding out more and more about myself that I want to share and I will!! It's a growing process, right??


     If you stuck this post out, thank you and congrats! You've reached the end. It's people like you that inspire me and that make me feel like my life is jut important enough to share. Have a WONDERFUL Tuesday and share your feelings below!

And here's a tune I'm SUPER into right now!