It's a Man's World

When I thought about writing a post today, I was prepared to write about my latest struggle. Getting  engaged in October brings with it the inevitable truth of taking on the role of a mother. As the time clock for the responsibility of housing and raising a six-year-old that is not mine winds closer and closer to D-day, I find myself stuck between the pull of losing my identity and the newfound responsibilities such a role will bring. The biggest struggle seems to be the child's grandmother. I tried and tried to make her my friend. To be a team during the difficult transition of parenting a child that she had raised since he was a baby. Time after time she has rejected me and through her own struggles, has made this road bumpier than it perhaps needs to be.

As I hopped in the shower and prepared everything in my mind in order to sit down and let loose on my keyboard after I was finished, I asked myself who was your favorite mother out of everyone you have dated? Hmmmm...I was stumped. I wasn't really that close with any of them. In fact, I had always felt more comfortable around the fathers of said "boyfriend-at-the-time" than I ever did with their mothers. With this realization I started to question whether I am the problem with my inability to have a relationship with the women who share my men. Why the hell is that? What is wrong with me?

After my self-analizing shower time, I thought about how women work based on my own brain and emotions. Women are each others worst critics. From the way we run our households to the way we wear our hair, we pick each other apart constantly. Being very aware of myself makes me very conscious of how other women perceive me. Especially if I have any bit of respect for them. On a daily basis I worry about my house being cleaned, my bills getting paid, what we will have for dinner, if I have gas in my car, and when I will be able to get my work done without distraction. Add on top of that my worries for other people. Will my fiance need to find another job soon? Is my friend ok in the relationship she in? Is my other friend handling her work stress ok? Is my mother ever going to retire? Will my soon to be step-son be ok going to a city school? Will he be ok going to a camp? Is my fiance's mother ever going to accept me?

That's a lot to put on yourself. So if I put all of that on myself, is it possible that every other woman does the same thing? Maybe the reason I won't let myself become close with the mother of anyone I've ever been with is because I am so worried about them criticizing me that I clam up and don't know how to let go and just be me. I'm so worried about doing everything perfectly as to prove that I am good enough for their son that I end up shying away from any chance of a relationship I may have with them.

Men are easy. They can hand you a beer and talk about the latest movie they watched and not give a shit if your outfit matches. They don't care that you've gained a bit of weight and you can talk about jujitsu to them all night long. This lack of insecurity around fathers is what has drawn me to them. I feel much more comfortable talking about the news (which I do not watch or read and have no idea what's going on in the world) than I do helping mom in the kitchen. What will we talk about? Gasp! 

This realization about myself this morning may not change my relationship with my fiance's mother, but it does make me understand myself a little bit better. Maybe it will help me lay off of women who seem to warm up to men faster and stop acting like they are being disrespectful. Maybe I'll be able to catch myself as I start to clam up around his mother, start being myself, and stop worrying so much about how I am perceived.

Who knows how this will pan out. I have a long road ahead of me. I do, however, need to remind myself that I am not perfect and I shouldn't have to pretend I am because at the end of the day, every other woman on earth is likely struggling with the same worries that I am. Time to give them a break too.

What a Difference a Year Makes

It has been quite a while since I have written a post and to say a lot has changed would be an understatement. My intention was to write a new post on New Year's Day, so let's pretend I stopped being busy, lazy, (fill in blank excuse) and actually posted as intended. Mental flashback to New Year's 2013—I was ringing in the New Year with a handful of friends in my Man Cave. For those who do not know me, that's code for my basement and was coined "The Man Cave" because I didn't see the need to have a man in order to call my basement what every man on earth calls the space they use to get away from it all. I had just ended a whirl wind of a horrible relationship. If you can recall from earlier desperate and depressing posts, ours was one that sucked the life from every inch of my soul. There were days that we were happy, but the games we played, lack of communication and trust, and overall difference in lifestyles and maturity levels, finally cleared up the fact that we were just not meant to be. So out with the old and in with the new happened at the drop of the ball on the very first second of 2013.

In he walks. I never understood how so many people that I know end up with people from their past. It's usually someone they went to school with but never really talked to or someone who was friends with their brother, etc. The idea of overlooking the person who you fall in love with being right there under your nose years prior without your knowledge seemed like a cheesy, vomit inducing fairytale. I guess sometimes things do work out that way. It happened to me. On that very second of 2013, I was locking lips with the person I had met ten years prior in college and who I will share the rest of my life with.

Since then, my life has taken a full on turn. I look back and can visualize a fork in the road with one road being covered in dead, overgrown thorns and the other filled with colorful blooms and bright green grass. Yes, cheesy and vomit inducing but it's true! I have learned to live without being fearful of the person I'm with leaving me or hurting me. If I want to know what he is thinking, all I have to do is ask because I know he will be honest. I don't have have to worry what he is up to when I am not around or what state he'll be in when he comes home or if he will even come home. I don't have to wonder if he loves me or thinks I'm pretty because he tells me several times a day. After so many years of struggling through one-sided relationships that just weren't right, one finally stuck.

This year we celebrated the New Year—our one year anniversary—by enjoying a night out together and reminiscing about one of the best years of our lives. The year that we found each other, again. I wouldn't trade that year for the world. We fell in love, purchased kayaks and traveled down rivers, saw more live music than I can even count, celebrated birthdays and every single first holiday together, played in the sand, laughed, cried, and got engaged. I truly hope 2014 is just as magical.

You have to understand that I never thought these things could happen to me. I was so programmed to just take what was in front of me and make the best of it, that misery became an expected house guest. For anyone who has struggled or is currently struggling in love, my advise to you would be not to give up hope that the person who is right for you is out there and that life is too short to let misery take the wheel. Do not exhaust yourself on relationships that suck the joy from you. In the words of my dear friend, "enjoy more and endure less." Life occasionally takes turns when you least expect it.

Cheers to 2014. May it bring adventure, growth, and love.

It's a New Dawn, It's a New Day, It's a New Life

The end of 2012 also brought the end of the saga that was my relationship with my boyfriend. After spending the past three and a half years of my life trying to make him be someone who he's not and would never be, I am certain this is the complete and total demise of us as a couple. Although we ended abruptly and with a whirlwind of hurt, looking back on it I realize now that it had been a long time coming.

Coincidentally, my dear friend finished up her final piece on online dating and in reading the feature which has easily become one of my favorite works from her, it made me reflect on my own relationships. In her article she talks about everyone stemming from their past and how it ultimately tangles with their future and in turn the future of the person they are with. This was abundantly obvious in my relationship with my ex. There were hurdles that he clung onto and never quite got over or dealt with. The ironic thing about it is that he expected me to get over his past, trust in his actions, and accept him for who he is, yet he never did any of those things for himself. He couldn't own up to himself so how could he expect that from someone else?

Moving on with a clear head for me means loving and respecting myself more. My New Year's resolution was to have more confidence in myself. I tend to put confidence and encouragement into other people yet I let myself get stepped on often for the sake of not hurting others. A recent tag on a Yogi tea bag summed it up well. "May you have faith in your worth and act with wisdom." It is now taped to my computer as a daily reminder of my pending confidence. I now make promises to myself. As my friend states in her article, "the one person I need to fall in love with is myself." And I do. Perhaps after wrapping myself up in my relationship, intertwining his problems with mine, and lessening my worth, I forgot about loving myself. It's not that I don't or didn't, but it got swept under the rug in order to help someone who in the end rejected me. I didn't act with wisdom.

In turning a new leaf, I'm hopeful that this year will bring plenty of soul searching, adventures with a cute boy, long soft kisses, laughter with friends, hard work and beautiful designs, and happiness. I'm happy and I'm free. I am the only me there is and whether or not love is in the cards, I promise to love myself.

http://youtu.be/OfJRX-8SXOs

This is My Home and I Have to Protect It

"This is my home and I have to protect it."
~McCaully Calkin as Kevin in "Home Alone"

I have always loved that line. When times get tough and I am forced to be responsible for a household that I was basically forced to take over, that line rings in my head.

Recently my roommate moved out. Hopefully the last roommate I will ever have. With it brought a lot of emotions that I was neither expecting or prepared for. As he was moving things out of his room and into his mother's minivan, I was sitting in my room crying. At the time I wasn't quite sure why. I had been anticipating the moment for a while. I would finally have my house to myself and would no longer get frustrated at having to clean up after someone or purchase yet another roll of toilet paper or tube of toothpaste with no recognition, thanks, or help from someone else. It wasn't even the fact that am praying for my refinance to go through so I could actually afford to live without someone occupying my home. It finally hit me. I was crying because now I am truly alone.

As I have gotten older, watching friends get married and settle down and start families, has become increasingly difficult. It's certainly not that I want to walk down the aisle tomorrow or pop out a baby anytime soon, I just want that possibility to be in my future and honestly right now it is not. Like not even in the near future. That is a scary thought. Yes my biological clock is ticking. Not necessarily to have children, but to have the security of someone who loves me to fall asleep with me every night and to commit to me. I want that level of commitment.

But alas, I don't foresee that in my future. Not my near future anyway. So I guess that right now the struggle has become how long I am willing to wait. How long before you give up on someone or something that is important to you?

With my new-found "empty nest" syndrome, I'm trying to focus on me. On the positive. I can have an office in my empty room. I can rest assure that the dishes in the sink are my own. I can pee with the bathroom door open. This is my house and I have to protect it. At the end of the day, today, I am cranking up Otis Redding radio on Pandora, dancing around the house with a glass of red wine, and making tacos for my boyfriend. Maybe that's all he'll ever be, but for now, I'm just gonna do me.

You Have No Power Over Me

No words today. Just a relationship dynamic that is oh so fitting at the moment.

Babies in Bars

I am a 32 year old woman who is not only not married but babyless. Due to the toxically fertile water in Lancaster County (and apparent lack of birth control), for someone my age to not have pushed out a few by now is a rarity. The older I get, the more friends I lose to the baby bug. Which also means more excruciatingly painful baby showers to attend where my homemade quilt that took twenty hours to sew is shoved under a pile of fabricated plastic whatsamajigs which are apparently now necessary for human survival.

It's not that I'm not happy for my friends. I am. It is just becoming harder to relate to them and harder to visit them without tripping over the millions of matchbox cars that threw up all over their living room floor. Which once was a conversation about weekend plans to go to concerts is now shadowed by which TV show their child is totally into this week. I must give them credit though. My 30-something friends who have recently dove into motherhood also happen to strike a balance between fun and the responsibility of raising a family. The "fun" part has toned itself down from shouting drunkenly at the local bar, to casually sipping wine in their backyard after the kiddos have been put down for the night.

I may be making myself sound like a child hating a-hole. I don't hate children per say, I just like to return them to their proper owner at the end of the day and continue with my successful life of doing whatever the hell I want, whenever the hell I want. Five minutes in a store with a screaming child is enough for my uterus to shrivel up inside my body, slam the door shut, and put itself under lock and key. Clearly I am not ready to be a parent and I am dealing with the fact that I may never be.

Motherhood may be your life, but it isn't mine. Ah finally getting to my point. Because I am and choose to be sans baby, I venture out to bars to unwind and have determined that BARS ARE NO PLACE FOR CHILDREN. There is no buzz kill greater then sipping on a cocktail after a long day, celebration, or get together with friends then to experience toddlers playing tag around the barstools. Do you really want to expose your child to what they have to look forward to when they are 21, broke, and trying to score with the random hoochie mama who is ordering a round of red headed sluts? I know that the conversations that I have when I'm tipsy should never ever fall on the ears of the innocent.

The other night I was out celebrating the success of a job with a bunch of friends and coworkers. I stumbled in my heals to the restroom to relieve myself after drinking a plethora of alcoholic concoctions only to find a mother changing her one year old male child on the provided board in the ladies room. I ignored it and found a stall. The changing of the baby was also a commentary on every little shake of the powder and as she was finishing, the child stood up and shouted "I'm naked!" Really? She laughed it off and I cringed. Why is your baby in a bar? Us single, childless bar goers do not need a play by play of what goes on nor do we need to even attempt to be proper as we're staggering our way back to our barstool. Take your child home, put on Sprout, and enjoy your beer in your own backyard. Leave the bars to us who chose not to drink that damn fertile water.

Shooting for the Underdog

I'm going to play the serious career girl card for a moment. Today's topic is brought to you by an art director. I could safely say that I may be a better art/creative director then an actual designer for many reasons. Throughout my career as such, I have been asked from people in the business and some not so much if I have worked with [insert known photographer here]. My response is usually 'NO' and I have reason to back it up.

Simply put, I shoot for the underdog. I actively search for creatives like myself. Those who may have not had the dazzling success of some who have the funds to purchase the latest and greatest equipment or ability to get their name out there. I tend to challenge myself by hiring those who are devoted to the art of photography. Those who do it for the love of it. Who's photographic eye shines through even in their family snap shots. I can smell talent from a mile away and invite these "underdogs" to play my game. To step into my world and better my cause of presenting Lancaster with fresh creative material by showing me what they've got. I never stop challenging myself and I want to challenge them as well.

Most of being successful is pretending you already are. I'm not going to lie, in my current job, we make it up as we go...learning and adapting with every step. Although this way of work does not come easy for some, it does allow a certain amount of creative freedom that would be hard pressed to find at a stuffy 9-5. We fake it but "at the end of the day" we love what we do because we do what we want.

That is what drawls me to those starting out. They are not tarnished by the name they made for themselves. They look through the lens without fear and expectations from others. It's almost childlike if you stop and think about it. I was told during art school that children are nearly the only people who have the ability to make art freely without the fear of rejection and judgement. I think it may be what holds back those career photographers. They have something on the line. They shoot weddings not because they necessarily want to but because it pays the bills. The great thing about where I work is that you will never make a career out of it as our staff photographer. That may sound horrible but thinking about it, that's actually a blessing to me.

I would never hire someone looking for a paycheck. I want to hire someone who has that childlike innocence. Who picks up a camera because they love what they produce. Because these individuals expect nothing more than a photo credit in print to show their friends and gloat to their families, they do the absolute best job they can do. They are nervous, jittery, eager to please, and grateful for the opportunity I have given them and I love them for it.

For Lack of Words

For Lack of Words...

I have been taking a lot of photos lately which I feel sums up things better than I can put into words right now. I suppose they're up for interpretation. Isn't that what photojournalism is all about?

Sex, Drugs, and Rock n' Roll

I told a friend that the reason I haven't posted on this blog lately is because I'm happy and I typically only write in times of despair. Last night I had happy thoughts rushing through my head and decided that I was going to write these thoughts and break the habit of spewing misery for others to read. Well wouldn't you know it, today is not a good day. However, I am going to try and channel that eloquently composed post that I had mapped out in my head last night but didn't have a chance to write since it was so incredibly late and I was so incredibly tired.

Last night I went to see Dr. Dog in concert at the Electric Factory. I like the band. I am not a "super fan", meaning I can not rehearse every lyric of every song, nor did I purchase an overpriced hipster beanie from the show. I can say I do enjoy their music. Dr. Dog has two singers. One being the poppy vocalist who is tall and dorky with a nasally sound and catchy sing-a-long tunes; the other mildly attractive who's voice is like sex. Gritty when it needs to be and smooth in just the right moments.

Because I do not claim to be a hardcore Dr. Dog know-it-all, I have never taken the time to watch live performances or even really look up what the band members actually look like. From judging the voices, I know one is sex and the other is nasal. Seeing them on stage is a whole other experience. The energy of the show in and of itself is one thing but watching Toby Leaman (oh my God his name is really Toby? mmmmmmm) bass player/second lead singer boy essentially make love on stage...mmmmm. He puts the "sex" in rock n' roll.

Right then and there I determined two things:

1. The men I'm attracted to are those who have a butt load of passion. It doesn't matter what it is for. Hell it could be as an amazing cross stitcher for all I care, as long as they put every emotion and every last breath into that passion. As long as they make everyone around them have absolutely no doubt that they love what they are doing.

2. Rock stars shouldn't be allowed to wear wedding rings. Strippers don't wear wedding rings right? Since most women would rather ogle at a lead singer gyrating their hips and pressing their open mouth on a microphone than watch a buff man strip down to a thong, I whole heartedly feel that it is the duty of a guy in a band not to wear a wedding band. It crushes the fantasy. If we can't have you after the show, let us at least have our fantasy. Yes, even if our boyfriend is inches away.

Just to throw the drugs in there for title sake...there were more plumes of pot smoke up in that venue than a Dave Matthews concert. There were also the remains of nitrogen balloons littering the streets after the show followed a block up by the source where they were still selling them to the after party crowd. It was a sunday night but who am I to judge? I have a new obsession and it turns out his name is Toby.

http://youtu.be/XP-XFG00aiE

BFFs

My dog is old and sick. Well, he's not technically my dog anymore but he was and ten years ago when I moved out, I couldn't take him with me so he became my parents dog, the neighbors dog, the neighborhood dog. Dakota is unique. He's a lover. He'll let you climb all over him and will kiss you like crazy. Everyone in the neighborhood loves him because unleashed, he will show up on your doorstep and hang out with your kids all day just to return home every night to the man who has been more than a father to me than my own. My stepdad, Bill.

But Dakota is thirteen now and not in great health. Having put our childhood dog down a few years back, we are suddenly preparing ourselves with the sad fact that Dakota may not last to see the end of the year or maybe even the month. I thought it would effect me more. I thought I would look at him and be devastated to witness my dog with one foot in the grave. I guess I stopped knowing him as well as I did. I guess I thought that since he lived a long, good life that I wouldn't feel as bad. What I do feel bad about is the way Dakota being sick is effecting the people who are around him everyday. The one's that call him their best friend.

Watching Bill with tears in his eyes is heartbreaking. This dog, his best friend, is consuming his every thought—his every move. He can't function properly and springs into action each time the dog lifts his head or moves incorrectly. After many tests we found that the dog has vertigo and that it should pass within a few days. Even if it does, the dog is old and it may just be prolonging the inevitable.
While sitting with Bill and watching the dog for hours lay in the middle of the yard, he said the most heartfelt statement I have heard in a while...

Bill: "All of my best friends are going to hell in a hand basket."

Me: "What do you mean? What else is going on?"

Bill: "Oh your mom and her back problems. I'm really worried about her. I ran a bath for her the other night and she's just stumbling around here always in pain."

How sweet is that? They have been married for...oh I don't know, maybe fifteen years and her and the dog are his best friends. He doesn't want any more. He doesn't need anymore. When they are hurting, he takes care of them and is empathetic to every ache and pain. To me, that defines what a best friend is. When they hurt, you hurt. It breaks your heart each and every step. That ability within human beings gives me hope. Instead of being upset that Dakota may be on his last leg, I feel a glow knowing that he is is, was, and will always be truly loved by someone. What more could anyone ask for?

Anger: How it Can Help You

I'm not going to lie, I woke up in a piss poor mood today. I cried for no reason. I felt unloved, unappreciated, and talentless. Today, I hated the world and everything was annoying and meaningless. These downswings are usually when I am most able to channel the hopeless feelings into writing. Lucky you.

But hear me out. When I feel this way, which thankfully is not very often, I make a valiant attempt to try to understand where these feelings are coming from and to turn that negative energy into something productive and good. Instead of wallowing in sorrow and anger by sleeping or not talking to anyone, I feel that it's important to refocus.

For example I asked myself these questions:

Why am I feeling this way?

My speculations:

1. I have worked very hard all week. Barely leaving my desk to eat, exercise, play with my dog, or do housework.

2. I am not entirely sure I trust the person I give my heart to.

3. I feel uncreative because I feel everyone is better than me.

4. My house is dirty and falling apart and people many think poorly of me for that.

Ok so there we have some things that may just be the reason. I know some of these things are just mere figments of my skewed imagination but for sake of fixing the problem, let's consider them. I believe that everyone has the power to change their way of thinking. They may not be able to change a situation but they can change the way they view it. So in order to "fix" this problem of needing a major attitude adjustment today, here is what I did.

1. I texted a friend and asked if we could get together later to get out of the house.

2. I talked to my roommate about how I felt and he related. (Visit the link for his humorous explanation.) http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/05/sneaky-hate-spiral.html

3. I cleaned, cleaned, and cleaned some more.

To focus on #3 lets just say I went on a cleaning frenzy. Go ahead, splash grease all over the kitchen. Explode sauce all over the microwave. I'll just clean it up. Go ahead Jake (the dumbass cat), shit on the basement floor. I'll bleach the hell out of it. Oh look...another lightbulb burnt out! F you...I just bought replacements!

One of the wisest people in my life, the person I owe a lot of my major decisions in life to, just told me in a recent conversation that I need to get more angry and he needs to be more calm. We need to come to a medium ground on our moods and should both be somewhere in between zen and total fucking chaos. Given the state he was in when I spoke to him, I disagreed (though I didn't tell him that.) Why would I want to be more angry? Well I've come to the conclusion that he's right. Yet again. Anger drives us and forces us to get things done. It can stick with you and break you down if you let it or it can be just the kick in the ass you need to move forward with a vengeance.

Are you angry? Use it. Use it and do something good with it.

Count Your Blessings

Another Christmas and another year passes. After having watched a number of old classic Christmas movies and at the same time watching my 3-year-old niece open so many presents that she didn't care to rip the paper off one more gift, my thoughts wandered back to the simple life. When people were thankful for real relationships with people and time spent with one another. When children were happy to receive a sled for Christmas and not a pile of toys which would soon be forgotten, or the new Xbox to occupy their time as not to annoy their hardworking families with actual attention and play.

We are all guilty of this new way of life. The idea of entitlement. Myself included. I caught myself being bitter and jealous while witnessing friends receive extravagant gifts from their bosses while mine was modest to say the least. When you look at decades past, you begin to realize that no one is owed anything and the only way to remain this way is to be grateful for what you have and the things you are given. 

We must remember that the right to work is a gift. Having a roof over ones head is a gift. And so is the people who make up who you are. We don't need flat screened TVs or fancy phones or diamonds for value in life. We don't need expensive bags or Kindles to show our value in ones life. We need one another. To remain simple and happy for the smallest token of appreciation that someone shows. Money and spending more could never amount to the relationships we make.

To my friends and family, I love you all. You mean more to me than I could ever show. More than I could ever afford to buy. Anytime I become sad for not having or getting what I want, I promise to continue to bring my thinking back to this. For I am not owed or entitled to anything. I promise to try to remain modest and I hope the same for mankind. Perhaps this is my New Year's resolution.

Merry Christmas to ALL.

"What is it that you want Mary? What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down." - It's a Wonderful Life

Giving Thanks

When I first laid down to take a nap this afternoon, my head hit the pillow and I thought about how I should write a blog entry when I woke up. The reason for the nap was because I was grouchy, depressed, and feeling sorry for myself. The reason for the blog would have been another woe is me rant about how everyone around me seems to be married with children or taking the steps to do so and here I am constantly wondering the status of my crazy love life. I'm glad I slept it off. When I woke up, the virtuous voice inside my head told me I need to be thankful for what I have, not envious of what I don't.

I like when that voice pops up — she's always right. I need to remind myself that dwelling on things that are out of my control is a waste of energy. Feeling sorry for myself is not attractive nor productive. The thing is to remain humble and thankful for all of the wonderful things and people in my life and proud of the many things I have accomplished. It is often hard to remind myself that may people would be envious of what I have. It's time to count my blessings.

Ironically this comes the week before Thanksgiving. My list of things to be thankful for:

1. The roof over my head. I may need to seal the windows in plastic to keep the heat in, or deodorize the cat smell in the basement, or unclog old pipes, but this house is a home. Not everyone can own a house and although it is far from the perfect dream house, it's all mine and mine alone.

2. My job. Yeah everyone complains about their job at some point. Sure I'd love to be making more money, but overall, I have a pretty damn good job. I have creative freedom and the ability to involve others who mean something to me. And come on, working from home is pretty amazing. I know people are jealous of that. I get to be with my dog all day, eat when I want to with whoever I want to, run errands at whatever time of the day, and most importantly, create when the mood hits me. For the most part I work on my schedule and that's a great feeling. I am certainly fortunate.

3. My dog. It's common knowledge that my dog is the love of my life. I am grateful that she is healthy and a loving companion. There are many nights I am certain I wouldn't have gotten through as easily without her to snuggle next to.

4. My friends. Sometimes they know me better than I know myself and their constant concern for my happiness and well-being shows me how much I am loved. We dance; we sing at the top of our lungs; we sometimes have too much to drink; we discover things together and appreciate beauty; we watch each other grow and learn and we are there for each other all the way. My friends are what keep me sane. I would be lost without them.

5. Jujitsu. I have always said jujitsu is the only thing that is constant in my life. I know it will always be there in one form or another. I have a hard time believing I have been at it for seven years. It has been an amazing journey and has taught me more life lessons in handling situations and living life than anything else.

6. My mother. Obviously I am thankful for my entire family for different reasons at different times, but having my mother to talk, depend on, and most importantly to be my friend, means the world. Some people no longer have their mother in their life and it saddens me. So I suppose I saved the most important for last. She is kind and giving and worries about her kids way too much. Her love for others is really something to be admired. I am fortunate to have her so close to me and such a big part of my life.

Week Off

Most people would kill for a week off. Me? Well, if I'm not being super productive I get depressed and antsy. There's an ongoing joke that when our quarterly publication is finally complete and I unchain myself from the computer I had just sat at for ridiculous hours a day during the proceeding months, I go through post-partum. It's true. The crazy busy times makes me...well crazy. But they are also welcomed with open arms. They give me purpose and without the hundred emails a day, I feel lost, lonely, and sad. I guess it's a reminder of how boring my life can be.

Not that there weren't high points to my week off. I braved the strangely unseasonal snow storm on Halloween weekend to attend a hell of a party in Philadelphia after watching the (lame without music) Millersville parade with my parents and our dogs from the comfort of my step father's van. It took my friend and I a very scary 2-1/2 hours to arrive at our destination that night and though I was on the fence about going, I had quite an experience and met a few new friends. It also made me realize that perhaps I'm not built for that kind of "do things you normally wouldn't and crash at 6:00 am" parties. But I suppose what happens in Philly, stays in Philly. I suppose.

Halloween/Trick-or-Treat night was equally as interesting. With a tray of jello shots made by a friend and me having spent all day creating a wand for my mother who dressed as Professor McMonagall, we were ready to hand out candy and shoot the shit. Only problem was that there was a freak gas leak in Millersville that caused a house to explode and rendered the entire town in the dark and without electric for a good part of the day, thus leaving the borough to cancel Trick-or-Treat night. Ugh. Imagine the disappointment from my mother, "the queen of Halloween".

We made the best of it by having a fire on the front porch, which later was determined as not such a smart idea while there was a gas leak. Ah well. The only thing hurt was my cleavage when a hot ember jumped from the fire straight down my shirt.

The week progressed with a much needed chat and lovely night out with someone who remains near and dear to my heart, though perhaps from an outsiders point of view, he shouldn't. Both of my catering shifts were cancelled this week which left me with more time then I accounted for and led me to do nothing more than watch the entire first season of Raising Hope. However, having a purpose reared it's head on thursday when I helped my sister move into her new apartment and attended and taught jujitsu (God I miss not having class tuesdays). Friday was tons of fun helping a friend for First Friday at a boutique she works at, and saturday evening was catchup time with an old friend and crazy dive bar fun with another friend.

Overall my week off had it's ups and downs. I know it's important to take this time. It's what helps to make me productive when I have to be and to restart my creative mind. It forces me to be alone with my thoughts and learn to entertain myself. Looking back, I am grateful to the friends who entertained me as well. Without them I would surely have no purpose.

For this week, I am anxiously anticipating the release party for issue 20. I can't believe it's been 5 years!  

Warrior Spirit

If there is one thing that my 7 years of martial arts training has taught me, it's not to let your emotions rule your actions. Though this is still difficult at times since we are all human, it has defined a way of living that has proven to be both a blessing and a curse. Being proactive rather than reactive is the essence of a warrior spirit. Through these actions comes the ability to take on any situation head on without resistance. In using this development of character as a driving force, it allows you to become a stronger person.

Recently I have been made aware of the effects of living in this manner. With the positivity of being a strong person who attempts to let negative situations not rule my emotions, I am also finding that this has left me to appear cold and emotionless in others eyes. I would rather take on the emotions of others than show my own. Putting on my best poker face in times of despair, I tend to feel for others more than I allow them to for me. Apparently this installs fear in partners for they are not able to provide me with emotional support because I do not allow my emotional side to be seen to many. I have been called selfless because of this and apparently people have a difficult time relating to me.

To say that I do not show emotions and keep my cool at all times would be hypocritical. That is far from the truth. I do get angry and frustrated often and I do blow up. However, talking through situations after the initial reaction has proven to defuse things to a point where there is acceptance. I am able to waltz through personal relationships being hard and matter of fact, though I have noticed I still need to attend to this same mindset in my professional environment. Perhaps tone it down personally and beef it up professionally? I am not perfect but I continue to work on my perfection of character throughout my life journey. They say it takes a martial artist 10 years to conquer themselves and 20 years to conquer others. I have only hit the tip of the iceberg.

Zanshin.

All Gone

For the first time in my life, I don't want to be me anymore. I used to love myself and believe that I could do anything but now I'm seeing that the act of being fearless is simply that...an act. I suck people in and then I drive them away. I am my own problem. The strength that once drove me, is now the curse that rips through me. Life is full of good times and bad. There is nothing left but to watch it all happen. No one can save me from myself. I am my own monster.

I'm watching children grow and people fall in love. I'm watching this all and knowing that it is something that I will never have because I don't deserve it. It's not meant for me. I have a hard time believing that there is anything left. What is real?

They say it's better to love and have lost than to never have loved at all. I no longer see that as truth. It brings nothing but such an intense pain that there is no point in having human connections any more. Being good is not good. Best to be alone, as that is ultimately how it all ends anyway. I have nothing more.

What's in a Name?

They say with great power comes great responsibility. I couldn't agree more. In my case things happened the opposite in my career. With the recent amount of responsibility, I wanted something to prove that the power was also there. I wanted a new name.

The best holiday, in my opinion, is quickly approaching. If you have ever met my family, you would know that Halloween is held in a very high regard. Everyone of them loves everything about it. In the past, Halloween was more highly celebrated than Christmas. Christmas. Even the word itself makes me anxious. It brings notions of forcing fake feelings. Of stress and giving because it is expected. Of driving around all day to be in the company of people you barely know. Halloween however, has always been more real in my family. It's a pure joy where everyone is there and involved because they want to be, not because it's what we're supposed to do. The great thing about Halloween is that you can be whoever you want. It's the one time of year where you can change who you are for the day and assume the persona of absolutely anything from inanimate objects to celebrities. The world is your oyster, at least for a day.

At this point in life and career, longing for a new name and persona seemed appropriate. I wanted something different. Something to prove that what I have been doing is not in vain. That it deserves attention. So I asked. I asked for a new title and I got it. Some how becoming the absolute highest title in my field has made me feel like a million bucks. I guess in this world of chaos, it's my new constant. The title sounds impressive, so I must be impressive. It gives me a new standard to live up to.

I need challenges in my life. This has become my challenge to live up to. As a designer, especially through college, the idea of ever holding the title of Creative Director put me in such a state of starry eyed admiration that I could barely fathom the day that I would ever get to tag on such a prestigious name. That day has come for me. All in all they are just words. But words bring power. Power brings responsibility. It is my duty to live up to what I asked for to my upmost ability. I have to. Not only for myself but for those striving for the same thing. For those starry eyed art students who want nothing more.

Strong

A good friend of mine and I just got back from a trip to Philadelphia where we attended an Intro to Aerials class at the Philadelphia School of Circus Arts. I had absolutely no idea what we were getting ourselves into. Turns out it takes a ton of upper body and core strength to pull yourself up on a trapeze, or rope, or 80 feet of fabric. It's tough. Your arms burn like hell. It would be easy to give up but the payoff is that you not only get to sit on that trapeze, you get to throw your one leg up and swing your body off the side or hang upside down. So I kicked as much ass as I could, channeled the warrior spirit within, and conquered everything I was taught there. Afterward, just like with jujitsu, I felt strong and extremely empowered.

Boosts of confidence are like drugs to me and come in all different forms. I get them through showing physical strength and skill, through winning at a game of darts, through creating art that people appreciate, through making myself desirable enough for the opposite sex  to notice. I know this all surface and comes from the acceptance of other people ultimately, but when these things happen, I am proud of myself too. I'm fucking strong as hell. That does make me proud and I don't need the next thing quite yet. I'm still floating above the ground.

Letting Go

As I entered the open field with seven other people toting yoga mats, I was prepared for something to happen. Something to change me tonight. A release. I got what I came for.

Yoga does not come easy for me and though I realize the immense amount of benefits from it, I tend to shy away from partaking. It makes me feel like my anatomy is incorrect because with certain poses come intense pain and the sensation of limbs snapping. I know the only way to overcome this is to keep at it. So tonight, after the recent absence of jujitsu, and my extreme need for centering myself, I joined a good friend  for her sunset yoga class.

As we started, she invited us to concentrate on a goal. Something that we wanted to accomplish for ourselves or someone else. We were to remind ourselves of that goal as we sunk deeper and deeper into our poses. Mine was to "let go".

I've been carrying so much in myself recently and hoarding people and feelings that I shouldn't be. People and feelings that I don't need anymore. It's been a struggle to grow and move onward and upward with these feelings looming around constantly. This mantra of letting go is something that I need to remind myself day to day in order to get better. It's just like yoga. I will only excel at it if I make it a habit.

Walking away tonight I felt clearer, lighter, and certainly more balanced. My hips moved like jelly and my mind floated a bit. That hour induced a sigh of relief and a deep breath of being good to myself. What a wonderful sunset it was.

Hard Pill to Swallow

It's been a while. Things have been, um, confusing? Interesting? It's hard to search for the right word. Not really that great is a good way to sum it up I guess. I'm always feeling torn between who I am. There are pieces of me that are keeping on and doing a darn good job of it. Your career and household doesn't stop just because your love life is complete crap. So every day has been a bit of struggle to remember who I am, what I do that makes me me, and how to move on with life. It's hard to value yourself when your heart is crushed. I keep beating my head against a wall wondering what I've could have done better but in the end it comes down to nothing. No matter how perfect I try to make myself, I can't make others love me. It's a hard pill to swallow.

On the other hand I have a friend who is absolutely wonderful to me and so ready to be there for everything I do. He's in it to win it. But I just can't. It's disgusting. I can't get over someone who was terrible to me and just be with someone who would absolutely would fulfill what I need emotionally. I guess time heals all right?

So time to move on with my day and turn on the work mode for a staff meeting and then friend mode to be there for someone else who also struggles in life. I want to value myself and the world again. Maybe I'll start tomorrow.