4 Days in....

I got the best email from my close friend, lady Jen, who some of you may remember from the Booze Bouncing story. She's saying goodbye to the cold and lonely life of Wyoming for a Key West. I'm so jealous excited for her (okay and for my new vaca spot).  Four days into their moving process I got the following recap so far, laughed so hard I choked a bit and decided I had to share...

"We've made it as far as Austin, Tx. Here's a little recap for your pleasure...
Day 1: Cleaned house and struggled fitting everything into one vehicle, spent too much time with family, made it to Limon at 4 in the morning. 
Day 2: Amarillo, TX for A's attempt at the 72 oz steak at the Big Texan. 38.9 oz left. 
Day 3: 1 hour south of Amarillo and the car needs a new water pump and fan clutch. 9 hours later, on the road again. 1 hour after that, cat poops, lays in it, and jumps to the front seat, smacking his poop-covered tail in A's face. 
Day 4: (early morning) Exhausted, find the first motel we see. Woken by "man screams" 1 1/2 hours later as A hops around the room, ripping off his shirt. Cockroach. In his shirt. Turn the lights on: Cockroaches on the tv, nightstand, headboard, mattress, wall, bathroom. Leave motel on a cockroach high, make it to Austin. Pay the money for a NICE motel. Ahhhh. Spend the day sleeping and visiting with TT. 
Day 5: At this point, ANYTHING could happen!! ;)"

The things I love, The things I hate,

Hello my favorite elves and sugarplums! How I have missed you! I promise in the next few days and weeks I'll let you in on the craziness that has been my life. Ever feel like you are rooted up and dumped in a new spot? That's been me. After time and thoughts I'm coming to peace. I promise to share all. The good. The bad. The worst. The light. But today I feel like sharing a little of me in the now rather than what brought me to now. So here it is 3 things I'm hating and 3 things I'm loving.

3 Things I'm Hating
1. Those 40+ hairs that I accidentally fried off while round brushing my hair last month. Those mutinous bastards are sticking straight up any more on my forehead aka Something About Mary style. Yeah. That's just awesome.

2. I'm hating people who think only of themselves at Christmas. It was once my favorite holiday and honestly I carry around cash just to stuff in the red buckets of bell rings. The moment you make a difference in anyone's life means a lot to me and the fact that they will never know means the most. So to all those people who bitch about how Christmas time is to stressful, open your eyes. This isn't about you. Open your heart.

3. No snow. It's Christmas time in Colorado and down in the metro Denver area we've seen as little white as a Hilton sister wedding. Nilche. I miss the snow.

3 Things I Love Right Now
1. I'm loving this Barbie. Maybe it's a little Dexter meets Oxygen Networks Snapped, but way to take control Barbie! Check out the little poochie in the corner just staring at headless Ken.

2. The text I got from my girls today who recently moved to the Lonestar state. "Hey girl I miss ya!" That's the type of thing that makes me smile for a random instant in the day. Big mental hug to one of my besties. Hope she felt it.

3. And I'm a country girl no matter where I go in life so a little country music makes me happy. At this moment I'm smiling to a little Blake Shelton's Who Are You When I'm Not Looking on repeat.

What are you loving (or hating) right now?

27 may have a bite, but hey, I've got teeth too.

I’ve been absent. My blogging buddies as we all know absent bloggers often mean something big is happening in our lives or a few somethings big. In my case it is the later. Big, I mean BIG things are happening in my little corner of the world.

As all of you know I took turning 27 a little hard.  I was panicking with my “what the hell have I done with my life?” and my 20s are just seeping away like a bottle of tequila on margarita Monday in a sorority house. A strange thing happened when the actual birthday came. I was perfectly calm and unaffected.

I’m convinced it was due to my new plan to grapple with that bitch 27, and I’m not above pulling hair or eye gauging in this case. After the initial calm 27 poked her catty head in the door, snickered at me and with the wrathful indifference only she can have threw up all kinds of suckiness on my new comfy pillow top couch and my life. Hello bad news and angry feeling. Make yourself at home. So yeah, round 1 went to 27.    

But despite the crap she brought in her wake I'm coming out the winner. 27 is going down. I've come up screaming, gasping for air and fists swinging. One month in and volatile 27 is vacuuming up my living room and tipping her head to me. And maybe we will one day be friends. Maybe. 

I’m taking that step I whined so much while tucking my head in between my knees because 26 was panicking about coming to an end. 27 seems to be respecting that as she snidely remarks "It's about damn time. That cowering whiner isn't you." I'm taking all the crap 27 brought in on her arrival in stride and stomping the hell out of it when it peeks at me in a manner other than meekly. And in the mists of all of this there was that step I'm taking that will make an exciting change for the better. The BIG change for the good that is exciting, slightly nerve racking because of the constant talk of economic issues, but exciting none the less. 

What BIG thing are you making happen?

The time I woke up on the floor

Let me preface this post by saying that, surprisingly enough, this incident wasn’t caused by alcohol. Oh there was alcohol in my system, but that was decidedly not the culprit that led me to wake up on the floor.

Last night I decided I seriously needed to relax, especially since my back muscles were still incredibly sore from my lovely episode with the masochistic masseur. I’m a big fan of Absorbine. I use it all the time when boarding for days in a row to keep my muscles from knotting up and cutting short my next day shredding the mountain. (BTW – It’s a topical anesthetic that relieve sore muscles) And of course I don’t use the Absorbine Jr. you can find in the pharmacy. Nope that stuffs for wimps. If you’re going to use it you might as well get the full strength stuff that they sell at the feed store and use on horses. I swear it’s perfectly safe.

In happy anticipation of relieving my battered muscles I dumped a good cup of Absorbine into the bathtub, filled it up and settled in for a good soak with a glass of wine and a book. For good measure I squirted some on my back too to give my muscle relief plan a little jump start. After pruning myself for about an hour I was feeling nice are relaxed. Yes, my night was looking pretty good.

I hopped out, toweled off, wrapped my hair in the towel and headed into the bedroom where Oz was laying on the floor. I bent over to give his belly a quick rub and when I stood back up again my vision went wonky sort of like tunnel vision, but more like I was falling into a deep hole. Oh wait, I was falling. Next thing I know my ass is waking up on the floor and I realized holy crap! I’d just fainted!

I’ve never in my life fainted. I always thought it was some ridiculous thing people with weak constitutions did and I’m made of sterner stuff than that. Apparently not. My next thought was damn that hurt! Anything you’ve seen in the movies is a lie. When you faint you don’t gracefully crumble to the ground. You crash land with a thud and how that does instantly snap someone back to reality again I don’t know. That’s all it took for me to become coherent real quick.

And yes, my nice little Absorbine soak was at fault for my sudden inability to stay vertical. Part of why it works is because it relaxes your capillaries allowing blood to flow more freely. After bending over a standing up really quickly about 6 times in less than a minute all the blood must have been rushing in and out of my head. Oops! At least my back feels awesome today. ;)

Sitting with My Head in a Paper Bag

So I’m sitting here thinking about what is coming up on Friday and I’m panicking. Literally, I’m getting nervous, short of breath. Hell, I’m going to start sweating and may need to put my head between my knees and scream until my lungs are empty. I’m panicking. I have 4 more days before I reach the big 2-7.

Okay, I know 27 isn’t typically one of those age numbers that people get worked up about, but for me it’s began to fill like this giant drop off point and there’s a big orange and white blockade with one of those incredibly bright orange rotating lights that is trying to warn me of something. Oh, that’s right. It’s warning me that my 20s are seeping away. It’s warning me that I’ve been out of college for 5 years (where the hell did that time go?) and I haven’t been to even half the places I was so eager to go and I’m standing here staring at a computer screen wondering what the hell I’m doing.

I always figured 26 would be the one that hit me in the gut. The one that said that I’m officially closer to 30 then to 21. The one that says I can’t just act like a dumb ass or screw up monumentally if I feel like it, because I’m an adult. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been fiscally responsible for myself since I was 18. Nope. Still didn’t feel like an adult then, just a teenage with a lot of life pressure and bills.

To squelch my panic-ridden-aging-self, I’m taking another step. In truth, 26 has been filled with lots of steps from giving the idea of having a life plan my middle finger to embracing my new desire to do something good for others and not only myself. But this one is a big one. I’m making my dreams and wants a priority. No more focusing on the what I should be doing. Should is over rated anyway.

I’m not selfish; I’m just living my life for me, for the enjoyment, pleasure and fulfillment of me. I’m embracing that mantra. I’m going to tattoo it on my forehead so that when I wake up every morning it’s in my face saying “Hey. Remember me? What you said you’re going to do with your life?” I’m stopping just being and getting back to living. Maybe I'll make a bucket list for my 20s. Who said it had to be for when you die?

What is your priority?

Blame it on the Booze. Blame it on Jenny.

I realized the other day that it has been way, and I mean WAY too long since I've gotten together with some of my best girlies from college. I was telling the man how it was time for me to have a random girls weekend. We all live only a few hours apart, so we try to get together and hang, drink beers, make snarky comments at anyone in the vicinity – in essence be our fabulous selves - every few months. Unfortunately March was our last go round. The man’s comments to my spur of the moment idea? “Sure, but don't get thrown out of a bar this time.”

Damn! I swear he never forgets anything. That instantly got me thinking about the last time we were together and how I managed to get my happy ass bounce out of a bar for the second time in my life. Now I feel the need to share. Settle in. It's not a short story, but it's definitely worth it.

The last time the girls all came into town we were going out and getting shitty in true college throw back style which meant a hotel room would become mandatory. (Remember kids, never drink and drive.) After bouncing around to several bars we finally ended up hitting a very cliche clubby style place complete with $8 beers, posers getting bottle service to get girls to talk to them, and a 22-year-old wavering between puking in the toilet and passing out with her face on the seat. This is not my kind of scene at all being a sports bar, live music scene or hidden dive bar kind of girl myself, however some of the others live in the W-Y-O so clubs are a rarity to be explored whenever possible.

Before arriving the night had been fairly tame. We were tipping back drinks, throwing back the occasional shot and laughing about everything out of the other's mouth. Nothing too excessive. I should have known we were in for trouble when Jen sauntered up to one of the poser's with bottle service, grabbed the bottle and topped of all of our drinks with Grey Goose (thank god we were already drinking vodka or that could have gotten nasty.)

Sometime shortly after, and several top offs later, the dancing vibe took hold of us all. As we elbowed our way onto the overcrowded dance floor we somehow managed to get stuck along the side by the velvety roped off booths. I honestly can't remember how it happened, maybe it was just to crowded and Jen didn't realize that the rope was right behind her, but the next thing I know she's falling head first onto the privileged side and dragging me down with her. Apparently they weren't so thrilled to have us literally crashing their little party.

I was up and on my feet quick enough, but Jen definitely wasn't having somehow tangled herself up with the rope and poles that hold it. She did have some assistance though, unfortunately it was in the form of three pissed off bouncers who picked her up  -two at her legs and one with her arms - and began to drag her out of the club. Nothing pisses me off more then rude ass people. They could have asked us to leave or hell better yet turned her over so they weren't carrying her out face down to insure they didn't smack her face on the steps as they hauled her down the stairs and out the door (her face ended up being safe by the way). And since I don't know how to keep my mouth shut and if my friend's ass is getting physically tossed out it's likely I'll be right there mouthing off enough to get tossed too. I'm nothing if not loyal.

But the assholeness didn't stop there. The jerk who'd decided to help me leave the premises didn't just set me down on the street. Nope he felt the need to set me in the middle of the sidewalk and proceed to chest bump me off the curb into the street. I'm 5'4" so having a 6' something guy do this seemed excessive and I wasn't having any of it. I hopped right back up on the curb informing him the sidewalk was public domain and he couldn't evicted me from it with his giant man boobs.

At this point a cop decided to intercede and find out what the issue was. I happily explained my argument and my concerns at the lack of the bouncer's knowledge of the zoning laws, which likely weren't his fault given my doubts that his IQ ever developed past that of a toddler. To my surprise the cop laughed, actually laughed, told the bouncer to desist in harassing me and kindly offered to hail us a cab.


Life Lessons Learned:
1) You can't man handle her, she's a girl! is not a valid argument with bouncers. (Sorry H. It was a good try.)
2) Yelling Put her down now and we can walk out douche bags! will get your ass picked up a hauled out right along with your friend.
3) I can apparently make intelligent legal arguments while bombed.
4) Some cops do have a sense of humor at 1 a.m.

Relationships. Forget the a la carte menu. Go for all inclusive.

2010 has been a seriously interesting year so far. For several of my friends it has been filled with some major life changes and undoubtedly when you’re in one of those moments you get to see the good, the great and the downright eFFed up relationships that you have.

A guy who has repeatedly begged my friend to move clear across the country with him acts surprised when she is hesitant when he can’t even text, yet alone call her, on V-day, her birthday or even within the same 24 hours when she has called him. (douche alert.)

I call bullshit.

A guy friend who asks his girlfriend to move in with him and after she does rips his ass in front of his friends and always takes off for days at a time over every little fight. They she has the nerve to act surprised when he asks her to move out. (Seriously? WTF did she expect to happen?)

I call bullshit.

A girl friend at long last after lots of trying, fertility drugs, one miscarriage, several rounds of AI action and buckets of tears was finally pregnant. At a time in the pregnancy when the baby’s health was in serious question and doctors were preparing her for the possibility of aborting the pregnancy pending some test results her sister-in-law decides to announce that she is pregnant. Oh it gets better, the in-law is only 5 weeks along (hello, you don’t tell people that early) and, get this, doesn’t want my friend to tell her husband cause the in-law wants to tell him on his birthday! (Did she really think he would be thrilled to hear that when they may have to abort his own baby?)

BULLSHIT!

Relationships, whether it is family, friends, hell even business, are a two way street driven by communication and respect. No one should just expect someone else to do something for them just because that is what they want. We have to earn it!

You can’t just pick when it is convenient for you to be part of that relationship and forget all about the other person any other time. A relationship is an intricate dance of give and take. It’s never ending. If you want to be part of it strap on the ballet shoes and bring an extra pair for them.

The beauty of the best relationships are the unexpected little perks that you will get out of them. The friend you’ve spent months listening to vent all their frustrations suddenly stops talking a gives you a big hug because they instinctively know that everything isn’t alright in your world and they’re going to be there for you to cry to, vent to or just lean on. The love of your life who buys 3 avocadoes at the grocery store when it only takes 2 to make guacamole just because he knows you will want one to eat with garlic salt because you do the same for him all the time.

The people who don’t return the sentiments, don’t return the respect, are the ones that you end up being better off without. I’ve spent 5 years weeding out the relationships that haven’t been mutually gratifying to me and invested myself in cultivating the ones that have. As such I’m a happier person.

I do my best to never treat anyone like they are the mustard. You should never be anyone’s condiment. Be the entire entrée with a little dessert thrown in on the side.

Image: healingdream / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Hello Liam. Welcome.

Today was a weird day for me. I'm not, repeat NOT, a kid person and even less of a baby person. Honestly I believe that humans and birdies have the ugliest offspring. We are not attractive in our first few hours and months of our lives. I'm the last person who will ever ask to hold a baby. I don't get why people get so excited and want to cuddle them, make stupid cooey noises and faces at them and tell people that they are the cutest baby ever.

Yep that's me. I'm a bit of a baby hater. My tolerance and mild interest in children begin when they are like 2 or 3 and they have a personality. Then I like to teach them to do things like drop ice cubes down their mother's cleavage or pick coins out of fountains (okay, maybe that is only with my sister's kids. Other people get really pissed off if you do that). At this stage their kind of funny and their view on everything in life is very amusing.

But the odd thing is, I was incredibly excited to hear about Liam making his grand debut this morning. One of my closest friends, Des, is the proud new mother. I'm incredibly excited for her. I was moved by the story she told me of how he made it into the world, how it felt to her, and how the last several hours have been since. I was warmed to the depths of my little baby indifferent heart.

And (gasp!) I find myself excited to say hello to the little guy. Maybe it's because I've been here to hear about everything from his first kicks to all the disgusting things that your body does. Maybe it's because we've been such close friends. Who knows. All I can say is that I'm truly happy for them - not the kind where you say you are happy and wish congrats - but the kind that makes your face tingly and you can't help but smiling.

Welcome to the world little guy!

A Gypsy at Heart

It's true. I have a gypsy's heart. I get the itch. I can't sit still. I can feel an antsiness in my blood. It's all I can do not to pack myself a light bag, grab a case of rockstars and all my favorite CDs, and take off in the car. I don't even really care where I'm going. I wouldn't make a plan of what to do. I'd just know it when I get there.

I've never been very good a staying in one spot. Maybe it comes from living in so many different places growing up or having a revolving door on the houses that brought so many different kind of people into my life. I like newness and change.

We are all wanderers on this earth. Our hearts are full of wonder, and our souls are deep with dreams. 

During the college years I would pick off and take off for days at a time whenever I got the urge. I miss those kind of days. I really miss being able to pick everything up and take off at a moments notice. Sometimes the restrictions of having a steady job, car payments and student loans seem more stifling then rewarding.

I'll be honest. One of the reasons I may be so itchy right now is because my birthday is barely a month away. It's been another year and I tend to become unsure if I'm doing enough with my life. I get that feeling that I'm not living it enough. Then again what is enough?

I often wonder if I'll ever be content and relaxed in the place I am. Will I ever free comfortable and at home with where I am, or am I destined to always feel this itch a couple time a year and yearn to uproot myself and find something new?

Is there any substance that that elusive feeling of home?

Tuesdays - WTF?

I saw this today, loved it and felt it was a must share cause this is how my week is feeling.

You ever have one of those weeks when everything makes you want to scream and punch coworkers, the guy that was riding his brakes all damn morning and eventually random old ladies on the street for walking slow and smiling at you? (I promise that isn't an everyday occurrence, but more of a random feeling today, and yesterday, and maybe tomorrow.)  Well, that's my week so far. It's one of those that sends me home on a Monday to veg on a coach and watch Leverage on the DVR with 2 giant pint size glasses of homemade Sangria because a wine glass just wasn't going to be big enough.  And it's only Tuesday. 

Makes me seriously wonder where this week is going to end up. But wait, Friday is a half-day of work and Monday is off thanks to the independence of America. God bless the USA, bottle rockets, hot dogs, apple pie, beer koozies, and most importantly our soldiers. Without you I'd be working on Monday and speaking in a funny British accent that would most likely resemble a combo of Kiera Knightley and Charlie Hunnam's real accents (it wouldn't sound to pretty). 

So that brings us to next Tuesday and wondering: WTF will it bring? 

The Misadventures of Lake Powell 2010

So my most recent adventure to Lake Powell was a combination of hilarity, dreams of mice, sunscreen, water floaties and banana hammocks saturated in booze and tossed onto a houseboat that by day two reeked of septic backup. Here are a few highlights:

While some people fly pirate flags, our crew in true Nebraskan fashion flew a Husker flag. That’s right a great big ass red flag with a white N. There was no question where most on this boat hailed from.  And if that wasn’t enough to proclaim where the patrons of that boat belonged then the giant “N” that we was resurrected at our first docking spot definitely was.

And just when I thought I was finally too old to get obscenely drunk and pass out in an odd spot I do, but at least I can blame it on The Man.  Pomegranate Pearl Vodka and a little Sprite Zero go down way to easy! Four ridiculously strong drinks later and a realization that I’ve become a pansy since leaving college, I took a look at the bottle and suddenly felt myself hit a wall. My drunk sea legs weren’t going to cut it anymore.  I was done. Out for the count. So what do I do? I crawl up underneath the 8 plus inflated floaties in one of the staterooms and proceed to take one the of best siestas of my life. Only to wake up with a fairly significant buzz hours later. That’s right. I can’t hang like I used to.

Also, there is nothing quite like resurrecting a game of truth or dare. Thanks to that I’ve seen a drunk guy sing I’m a little teapot while twirling around on a cooler, friends play bucking bull and try to dump each other into the dirt, and just about everyone in a banana hammock (yes, some of the girls too).

Did you know that mice (and apparently other disgusting creatures) will crawl up the lines at night while the boat is docked? All it took was one mention of this and I was dreaming of little mice crawling across my bed every night. While it never happened, the mere thought was enough to have me kicking out randomly at least 20 times per night. Tip: bring something to put on the ropes to fend off the little creepy, disease-ridden rodents.

Oh and one last antidote. When packing of course I remembered all the essentials like sunscreen, bug spray, water floaties and several cases of beer, but who would have ever thought to pack mass amounts of Febreeze? Well, I’m telling you that is another must have with 10 people all using the same crapper, and one in particular dropping 4-6 loads a day. The smell is builds up quick and at a whopping 10 miles an hour cruising speed you can’t generate enough wind flow to carry away the smell.

All in all, it was a hell of a time. What was your favorite random vacation with friends?

Why should I work when I could perpetually be on vacation?

The worst part about any vacation is coming home. I know some people are ready to crawl back into their own comfy beds and gorge themselves on American hamburgers, but not me. Okay, that’s not fully true. I did gorge myself on the Wendy’s frosty/fries combo. (God bless you Dave!) I am already missing you Costa Rica. What more could I ask for from my little adventure then the sound of waves crashing into the beach (off both coasts), several species of crazy monkeys and buttery plantains with every meal.

I know! Another vacation because hey, who really needs to be at work anyways? Definitely not me. That’s right kiddies. I’m off to Lake Powell with the NEB crew. Translation: hello to more sun (Yes, I’m getting seriously brown) and a houseboat full of booze. Ain’t summer grand?

Where would you go right now if you could?

Does this high school grad make me look old?

It’s official. My little bitty baby bro isn’t so little bitty anymore. Yes, I know he has dwarfed me since he was 14, but the kid –ahem, excuse me- guy is finally grown up. I can attest to that since I spent the entire weekend coming to that realization. It didn’t happen right away, it was more like a 12 step, okay 2 step process.

1. The military dress
I showed up in Riverton and caught up with the bro on Saturday, after he had spent half the day on orders, which I learned is what it’s called when you’re on duty for your one-weekend-a-month with the National Guard. Since he was done with his tasks but still technically on call he had to stay suited up in his uniform for the rest of the day just in case the call and need him somewhere.  So when I saw him he was still in uniform.
That’s when it slowly began to set in. Yes, he did really sign up for 8 years in the guard and he is going to basic training next month. Sure, I’ve seen pictures of him in the gear, but it’s not the same as seeing it in person.

2. The cap and gown
Sunday came and so did graduation day. In Riverton it took place in the gymnasium since that’s the only place big enough to hold all those people inside – hey, its Wyoming and you don’t hold anything outside in May. It may very likely snow. As we sat down I quickly realized I hadn’t seen the inside of a high school gym in 9 years. It was a little awkward being in one again and you think I would have remembered how wood bench can make your butt numb in 2 minutes.  I seriously wish I would have thought of bringing a blanket, pillow, butt donut, anything to sit on! I digress…

With an 8 year difference, I’ve always seen Chans as my baby bro, but in a cap and gown my thinking really had to start changing. After all he was done with school and taking the diploma. Funny enough when they began playing the senior video and his face popped up and he waved at the camera I got teary.  Awww! It was ridiculous. I didn’t get teary at my own graduation, was actually rather nonchalant about the whole thing, but his I got a little choked up. Don’t worry I quickly recovered.

Congratulations Chans! May  your road never be too rocky, may you always appreciate each and every success, and may you always remain as humble as you were that day.

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Explore. Dream. Discover. - Mark Twain

Life isn’t about finding yourself, It’s about creating yourself!

You ever hear people say “I’m finding myself”? Well, I absolutely hate that saying. It’s ridiculous and makes no sense. How can you find yourself? It’s not as if you were somewhere then whoops turned around and you’re gone. You didn’t misplace yourself somewhere. No one is going to hand you a map or plug the coordinates into your GPS and presto! There you are. It’s you! The one you’ve spent all this time looking for.

In life we don’t find ourselves, we create ourselves!

We have never been here before and we will never be here, in this moment in time again. With every choice, every action, every thought - we create. We Hope. We dream. We embrace. We cry. We fall. We love. We lose. We explore. We live. 

Our life and the people we become are our creation.

I believe I’m still creating myself. The self I want to be. The better me. The more involved me. The more humble, more compassionate, more dedicated, more inspired me.  Every day I continue to work toward creating the me I want to be. 

It's not about being content with who you are, but continuing to strive to achieve a better you. Everyone of us is beautiful in our own right. We do not need to find ourselves, for we are already here. We already know who we are. The question is, "Is this the best person I can be?" I resoundingly say NO!

Because of this I will never stop creating. Never stop evolving. And most importantly never stop learning. I learn, I live and I create. 

May you always appreciate the you, you are and you, you are creating. Who will the you, you create be?

The Almost Vacation -But Not Quite Here Yet- Blues

It’s official. I’m finally going to get another stamp in my passport! The St. Lucia stamp was starting to get lonely, so what else could I do but give it a little company? The bad thing about scheduling a vacation is that the waiting period suddenly becomes so much longer. May 28th why, oh why, can’t you just get here?

If you know me then you know that when I get an idea in my head or a notion to do something I do it. I don’t sit and talk about how I would love to do this, or it would be so fun to do that, or I’ve always wanted to try… I take charge, pull the lever and send myself in there guns blazing. I’m proud of the dedication and determination I have to embrace every opportunity and challenge. Without it I would never have rode waves of the coast of Hawaii, jumped out of an airplane on a beautiful October morning, or had the courage to explore school again and a change in career.

Yes, I admit that sometimes things can go awry. Otherwise I would never have had the pleasure of cruising through airports in a wheelchair on the way back from New Orleans. But to me it was completely worth it. When else would I have randomly stumbled onto a pirate’s convention and spent the weekend hanging with swashbucklers?

You see, one of my biggest goals is to truly see and do everything. Anything from cruising the canals of Venice in a gondola, and eating native nuts with the Pigmies, to fishing the anchovies run in South Africa and even seeing that damn 5 legged calf in Kansas. Yes, everything. The important thing is gaining the experience. Feeling something, learning something, exploring my understanding, expanding the mind and embracing another day that could have and would have just gone by.

As with anything, the key to reaching a goal is to make that first step. So, here I go again taking another step.  This time I will be stepping into Costa Rica where I will spend 10 days touring the canals in the rainforest, hiking up volcanoes, sea kayaking along the coast, and embracing the local culture from the Gulf side clear to the Pacific. Who knows, with a little luck I may even get the chance to put those surf lessons to good use again.

Now if only I can make it the 3 weeks till I take off for some vaca time.

Overbooked or Living?

I over book. Chronically. No, not in my work life. Somehow I can prioritize that to perfection. But my personal life is a polar opposite.  I’m afraid I’m going to miss out on something that I will later wish I hadn’t. So I overbook.

Honestly, I think it originally stems from parents that were often over controlling and required at least 48 hours notice before I could go do something. No spur of the moment slumber parties for me growing up and deciding I wanted to go to a football game two hours before was definitely out. When I got to college I wanted to experience everything. No one could tell me no so I embraced it all. House party at 11 pm on a Tuesday or Random road trip to Vegas? Bring it on!

So you think after the college years I would have gotten over it. Nope, I still continue to overbook now. Being home before 11 only one or two nights a week is okay with me. The down side? I keep myself running to point that I forget to take some “me” time. I also tend to forget to make “us” time with the man. But, I’m happiest when I’m embracing the possibility of enjoying myself.

Then a day like Wednesday hits. It dumps so much snow the little kids down the block are seriously trying to build snow caves in their front yard. And I hit a wall. I get tired. Not the take-a-30-minute-power-nap tired, but the kind when my brain has powered down, I’m sputtering nonsense, and I feel like my butt is dragging on the ground. But it’s only mid-week and slipping in a PTO day isn’t an option (I refuse to use one unless I’m really sick or doing something fun). So I grab a case of diet coke (literally), vow to spend a weekend filled with “me” and “us” time, and strike out on another day.

Fast forward two days to today and what do you see? Have I slowed down like I promised? Nope. I’ve done it again. I’ve booked myself solid. That wall dissipates as usual, but not through resting and doing nothing. That wall dissolves with every laugh that escapes my lips, every smile that reaches my eyes, and all of the little moments I’ve embraced. For me, those are what life is about.

So What’s the F&*#@^ Plan?

Photo from freedigitalphoto.net
From the time we are can talk and toddle around we start making plans. We plan what we want to be when we grow up (the policeman and ballerina occupations never looked so good). We plan where we are going to live (I’m going to live with Mommy forever!). We plan and we plan and we plan. Then we grow a little bit and those plans change. And that’s okay (being a Mommy clinging ballerina isn’t that healthy anyway).

Throughout our lives we make plans and then we change them. Why? Because we, as people, are constantly changing. So why is it that when we reach adulthood we are supposed to have it all figured out and have set our master plan?

At the ripe age of 26 I can honestly say that I don’t have the master plan laid out. And you know what I’m okay with that, I’m even happy about it. Eight years ago I had my life laid out if the perfect plan. I was going to be a vet. I was going to get my doctorate at CSU and practice medicine on horses for the rest of my days. Then college happened and my life and goals completely changed.

I've spent the last 4 ½ years exploring a few various marketing communication jobs trying to figure out where I fit, what was my niche, where would I be the most happy. One I even loved! Then the economy bottomed out, the unemployment line came beckoning. And what have I learned from that? That no matter how much you plan, everything can change in the blink of an eye. And you know what? That’s okay too. It’s not the end of the world. It’s an opportunity to learn more about yourself and who you are.

I’ve had the “What am I doing with my life?”, “Where am I going?”, and “What’s my plan?” conversation with many close girlfriends and several random people too.  And guess what? A good number of us aren’t really sure. We may not be where we thought we would be 2, 3 or 4 years ago. We aren’t working in the job or industry we had planned. We have found that our dream job wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.  We haven’t found that love of our life yet. Some of us have and still aren’t ready to make the family step yet (after all we’re in our 20s – what’s the rush?).

So here I sit at 26 - and yes, I’m employed again and have a great job. Is it what I want to do with the rest of my life? No. Do I know what I want to do? Maybe. And you know what? I’m okay with that. I’m perfectly happy not having everything planned. This is my life. It’s my one time to live and be me. And if it doesn’t all work out the way it was “planned” I’m going to continue being okay with that.

Why Be Smart When You Can Be Stupid

As a person who has worked in Public Relations and Marketing for the last six years I'm definitely a sucker for great advertisements. I absolutely love the ones that are creative genius or push the envelope. Forget conventionality.

Diesel Jeans has an awesome new "Be Stupid" campaign and it has definitely shot to the top of my favorite list. In my opinion it is absolutely brilliant! It's all about embracing a way of life. Forget rules - Let's live!

So here is to Being Stupid and the relentless pursuit of a regret free life! I'm off to run around the streets naked.

Back To School Again

I've officially decided to take some time to explore other career paths. As a Marketing Communications person it has definitely been a hard year. As I sit at the mid-twenties mark I feel it is time to make some decisions about whether I want to do what I'm doing now in another 10 years. Do I still want to be sitting behind a desk then? What do I need to be happy with my professional?

The first step is looking at other careers as well as my own. I've always had a very keen interest in medicine, after all I was destine to be a veterinarian as the surgery on my stuff animals would indicate. Alas, at the ripe age of 20 I decided I was not willing to go to 4 years of medical school only to make in the high 30s. What about a nurse? Well I'm the type of persona that needs more authority and complex tasks. So now I'm looking into becoming a physician assistant.

Step two was speaking to an adviser about what I would need to do to become a PA.At his advice I'm back into the classroom two nights a week for a refresher biology course. During this time I'm also working on shadowing a few PAs to get a better sense of the job and working on doing some volunteer work at a hospital.

Any journey in life begins with the first step. I'm taking mine.