Spotify Mood: Melancholia

I fell in love with someone completely off limits.  I don't need to tell you how sensational he is because I wouldn't have fallen so hard for the forbidden if he wasn't.  His brain challenges me, his kindness melts my heart, his patience rides the waves of my emotional inconsistency, his pure sexiness rivals anything I have ever seen.  We haven't crossed the physical line...and we swear we won't, but the emotional side of things is enough to have created a bond that left me a crying mess in my car when it was broken.

I knew this was coming, my Twin warned me, my Moral Compass warned me, my Rock warned me, I warned me!  But watching the train come is one thing, being hit by the train hurts a hell of a lot more than you expect it to.  You think I would have been smart enough to move out of the way, but I stood there watching all the warning signs and told myself "maybe it won't hurt.  Maybe it won't happen to me.  Maybe I'll be the strong one here."  Newsflash, I wasn't.  I was left walking a sidewalk unable to see my feet because my eyes were so blurred with tears and hands so shaky I couldn't unlock my car.  He drove home with a lie on his tongue about where he had been.

Sometimes I ask for the truth when I don't want to hear it at all.  I throw down a challenge..."hurt me, I dare you, I'll be okay, I'll show you"is what I am really saying when I ask for the truth, but the answer is always the same...my wet eyes, short sentences, and one armed hugs good bye.

I asked for the truth tonight, I asked to know if he was okay with "this".  He didn't say no, he just said he needed to create a boundary before we crossed it.  I saw the end right there, before we even got a chance to begin.  I shut down (typical Kristen), nodded, said I was fine when he asked, patted him on the back, agreed to "see ya later!" in the most cheerful non-broken voice I could muster, and spun on my heel to leave.

So, goodbye my lover.  You changed my life and brought so much love into my world.  I let my walls down and you walked over them into my heart, only to leave me hollow and more hurt than I ever expected to be.  I know you didn't plan this, you're too good to have planned this - I don't blame you.  I've learned that when you see the end before things begin, you expect hurt and sorrow...but the expectation is never as awful as the shut down, walk away feeling that the actual end creates.

Current Mood

Mr. Right-Baseball-Bendy

I have been in this state of flux lately.  Flux.  Change.  Variation.  Whatever you want to call it, change is in the air.  Maybe it is the new moon or maybe it is just my 28 (almost 29) year old brain finally breaking through into adulthood.

I realize shift happens.  I love that by the way, "Shift happens."  It is clever, without being crude.  Anyway.  As a human and especially as a yoga teacher, I am aware to the inth degree that the world around me and the world in me, will always be shifting.  In my practice it is the variation in how my hips open day to day, how my balance is on point one day and off the next, and how some days I am eager to be up at 5am to twist into Cirque like poses, and other days I can't imagine crawling out of my cat covered bed.  In my life the shift is different though.  It isn't one I am comfortable with.

I am yo-yoing between wanting to be in a relationship and adamantly holding on to my single woman independence.  After dating H for a bit and dissolving that partnership because of an honesty issue on his end, I am struggling to keep my intentions clear and concise.  There are things in my life that are very clear today: I want to be insanely successful at EMCO, I want to inspire people when I teach, I want to be the best daughter, I want my friends to know I love them (especially Little Bird, who I don't tell enough), I want to spend every summer evening sitting on the patio reading books with my cats...those things make sense to me, they always have.  But then the boy stuff creeps into my brain.  Like a heavy rain that comes out of nowhere in the middle of the night and wakes you up because it is beating so hard on the window.  

I have always been the school girl crush kind of person.  I will like you intently from afar but when you get to close I will push you away because God forbid if you like me and then hurt me.  It's completely fear based.  And when there is fear, there is darkness, and when there is darkness, there is no light.  So I fight the darkness by joining online dating, going out on awkward dates, and encouraging friends to set me up with "this nice guy from work" they speak so highly of.  I put in a valiant effort into finding the One, but always have an impending sense of doom in my head.

The truth is, I have never ever had butterflies like the ones that I got around X; I have never been inspired by someone as intently I was by B; I have never laughed as hard as I did with C.  These men in my life, marked with insignificant individual letters in my blog, have changed me.  They have set the bar so high that I question, with logic not fear, if that bar will ever be met.

I was with H for a month when we split, we continued the back and forth every couple of weeks thing,. Finally I pulled the plug Saturday.  I took a really hard look at myself and my behavior and realized I wasn't proud of it.  It wasn't really me- it was fear and self pity and insecurity taking on a whole new form.  Instead of being honest with myself about what I wanted, I hid inside a couple hours a week composed of polite smiles, light laughter, and the kind of company that only a man can give.  If I am being presumptuous, we have all done it.  Used someone (with or without their knowing) for our own benefit.  It doesn't make it right, but I am also not smashing my head against the wall because of it.  The self awareness it took to step back and be grateful for him and ashamed at the same time required a lot of reflection and courage.

What scares me about this state of flux is my inability to stay committed to a decision.  I ended things with H, and then went back 3 times.  And then pulled the plug again.  I had that partnership and then I ended it.  I wave this flag of independence while at the same time walking around with my best smile on just in case Mr. Right (Now) walks by.  Add on the fact that I have girlfriends pushing relationships at me - revisit old ones, pursue this new one, stay with H - and my brain starts to hurt.  It is no wonder that I come home after a 14 hour work day and ignore my phone to watch  Pretty Little Liars on Netflix.

The Blue Jays have a 9 game home streak in September over my birthday (Red Sox, Yankees, and KC) and the romantic side of me wants to meet Mr. Baseball and go on my perfect trip with him.  The realistic (scared) side of me is already looking at single seats in really good rows behind first base.

So what is it...the flux or the reason for the flux that scares me more?  Truthfully, the thought of losing everything I have created alone in order to be with someone terrifies me, but so does the thought of watching baseball alone with my cats at 50.

Every time I go to a class I learn something new.  A cue, a pose, a song...I am always open to this newness that happens in the studio.  My whole body arches with the excitement of being open to new possibility when I am breathing and moving.  I know what to expect from yoga - this feeling of completeness afterwards.  The dating thing is different.  I don't know what to expect, I don't know if I am going to like the end result.  I think that is where the fear comes from, the unknown.

So, at 11:30 on a Wednesday I am setting my alarm to get to my 6am class, and hey, maybe Mr. Right-Baseball-Bendy, will be there too.

I want.

I want to love you. 
I want to fall asleep with you, wake up with you, make breakfast with you, and share the newspaper.  I want to feel your eyes bore into me as you read the map of my soul. 
I want to close my eyes and still see the shape of your jaw. 
I want to feel your heartbeat pound into my cheek as my head rests on your shoulder. 
I want to feel your fingers tangle in my hair as we fall asleep. 
I want to hear you murmur "I love you" in the middle of night, the morning, and the afternoon.

I want to feel your love pour over me, through me, around me. 

I want to envelop you like lava...shaping around you, flowing through you, filling every part of your heart, mind, and body until I know you, and you know me. 

More than anything else, just know me.  Know everything about me, know my flaws, and my failures, and love me anyway.

I want to love you.


**Thank you W for the inspiration tonight.  The truth and the pain and the strength and the love...it led me here...to this.  You, my darling friend, are magic.** 

He was obviously so excited that you texted him that he fainted.

The physical feeling of heart ache doesn't just come after the end of a 5 year relationship.  It is does not just stem from infidelity or betrayal.  Heartache, portrays itself in so many forms - weak knees, stomach stone, shaking hands, watery eyes, trembling bottom lips, and of course, the feeling that your chest is simply going to crack in half and you are certain it will keep cracking until the pieces are so small they are nowhere to be found and you will be left without a heart...just hair and skin and nails.

This blog entry is not about B, or X, or A, or C, or any of the letters in my life.  It is about truth.  The truth that sometimes we fall head over heels for a man the moment we lay eyes on him, and then we spend 5 years telling ourselves that love is enough.  The reality that sometimes love comes at us slowly and we realize we cannot possibly date anyone besides him even though he chews too loudly and eats more desserts than any person should.

I don't know what is going on with B.  I compare him to my cat...sometimes he wants to cuddle and sometimes he pees on the couch.  If I am being honest, I don't really care what is going on with B because no level of care (or obsession) is going to change the reality of things.  I have no control over people, places, and things.  No matter how late I stay up, how many times I reset my phone thinking "his text must have gotten lost in cyber space", or how often he calls me to talk about things that he "can't trust anyone else with," it doesn't change the facts behind things.

The fact that my school girl crush is a just a crush and that there are several millions of spectacular people in the world that I undoubtedly would fall in love with the moment I met them.  Infatuation is a scary, beautiful, overwhelming thing.  Roll with it.  Be enamored.  Be inspired.  Be in awe of this amazing human you met.  Kiss.  Touch.  Fall asleep.  Talk.  Laugh.  Be okay having a crush.  Then stop walking down the isle with him, giving birth to your two perfect kids, divorcing him and keeping the dog, and re marrying someone more open/sexy/rich.  Just stop.  Have a crush and when it stops making you feel alive and it starts weighing you down, stop.  Move on.  Meet some guy in an elevator or at Starbucks or go to the same Subway everyday for lunch hoping to catch a glimpse of the latest man of your dreams.

When it is meant to be, it will be.  The Universe won't play games with your heart if you don't play games with fate.  I know when I get to the crazy point, I lose faith in the Universe to know what it best for me and I begin to try and control all of the outcomes.  I manipulate people into staying in very unhappy relationships.  I lie, cheat, and steal to get what I want, and I stop trusting the process.  Who wants forced anyway?  We all want to hunt a little bit, but are you REALLY willing to change your eating habits, your vocabulary, what you do at night, and how many times a week you finish an entire season on Netflix with the hope that you can catch your prey - I mean meet the man of your dreams?

Stop pretending.  Take things as they come.

X is getting married.

The man who stopped my heart in an elevator in Bow Valley Square in 2007 is getting married.  X, who I spent over five years trying to fix, control, sober up, and manage, has met someone who doesn't need him to change, and he doesn't need her to either.  When I first found out, my stomach dropped and I looked in the mirror wondering what she has that I don't.   Then I realized it has nothing to do with me.  It never does.  I am just so selfish that I think about myself first.  The Universe never intended for X and I to work out.  I stalked my prey (both metaphorically and literally) until I got what I wanted - him.  I sat provocatively on his desk at the ripe young age of 20 and lured him into my life, charming him with my energy and keeping him around with my chaos and manipulation.  X, if you ever see this, I am sorry!

Stop playing God.  Stop thinking that every step you take is within your control.  The people you meet, the wondrous, the cruel, the loving, the harsh...they all offer you guidance to your destiny.

"One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree.  'Which road do I take?' she asked. 'Where do you want to go?' Was his response. 'I don't know.' Alice answered. 'Then,' said the cat, 'it doesn't matter'."

So darling, it doesn't matter which path you take, you may not truly know what you want.  You certainly don't know what is best for you.  Let the Universe guide you as you trudge the road TO happy destiny.  Be you, in this moment.  Just for tonight, for today, for the week...be you.  Wear the right size jeans, don't lie about your age, have a crush, and be honest, "I pout when I don't get my way!"

Do you know what is harder than lying to someone else?  Lying to yourself. Telling yourself you aren't hurt, you aren't ashamed, you aren't horrified...telling yourself that you are okay.
Lying to yourself until you begin to believe it.
And then one day, the lie crumbles and everything around you falls apart because it is all based around that lie.  The story you created to protect yourself, heal yourself, convince yourself that you were okay.
So, don't be okay.
Be sad.
Be remorseful.
Be broken.
Don't just be okay.
Be truthful.
Nothing will shatter the truth.

Don't build your life based on lies.  Love yourself now and this moment like it is your last one.  Fall in love 37 times a day with 37 different people, places, and things, but don't expect them all to love you back, and God forbid, don't try to make them love you back.

The Allure of B

I am supposed to be on a date right now.  No, I am not sitting a restaurant alone writing on my phone, nor did I come home after being stood up to eat ice cream alone and write.  I cancelled.

I have been on this kick lately, telling people that I was ready to date!  Looking for a relationship!  Excited to find someone to love, make love with, and read the paper with!  So I did what every “ready” woman does and I started online dating.  I wrote a compelling description of myself and threw up some flattering photos and began conversing with a few fellas who had appealing photos and clever descriptions.  But the investment wasn’t there.  The eagerness, the excitement, the spark…none of it was there.  So, I didn’t go on my date.

I started practicing yoga just over four years ago.  When I started I would always push myself into new postures that I wasn’t doing correctly, I would push myself into breathless exertion where I felt light headed and dizzy, I would never take rest or water, or God forbid a restorative class.  Last year at some point I stopped caring though.  I started loving restorative classes, taking child’s pose, and even going to the studio when it was empty not to practice advanced arm balances, but to lay out in reclined butterfly and listen to really beautiful music.

I’ve heard that how you do yoga is how you do life.  So when I stopped pushing myself for external reasons and started doing what I wanted ON the mat, I started acting that way off the mat.  I began to go to bed earlier or stay up ridiculously late watching Netflix, I laughed as loudly as I wanted to, and cried when life seemed too much to handle.  I love doing what I want.  I am truly free! 

So, because I did not want to go on my date, I did not go on my date.  Instead I fought the urge to ask B out for pizza.  B, the reason I didn’t want to go on my date.  The reason that I stayed up until 4am.  The reason I read weird books on personal development.  The reason I put two raw sugars in my latte and not white mocha syrup anymore.  Thing’s with B are not clear, or on the table.  Feelings have not been laid out, moves have not been made; in fact, it is not even clear if there are feelings to have or moves to make. 

But with B there is a sparkle, a life, a smile, an opinion, a laugh, a creepy forehead vein, an overused hand gesture, a signature word that admittedly I’ve stolen.  I really like all of those things about B but what I like most about B is that he is real.  He is not the right photo at the right angle with some catching phrase posted on some website.  The giddiness I feel around B is not a result of great punctuation and spelling, or messaging pictures of your dog, or corny pick up lines sent at 3am.  The giddiness I feel comes from the heart to heart humanness of real life; the exchange of energy that occurs when two people see each other and can’t breathe; the butterflies in your stomach as you plan your perfect first sentence to him; he nervous toe tap, the awkward shuffle, the racing pulse…that is the giddiness and you just don’t get that online.

So yes, I skipped out on a date but I realized that a couple years ago I started staying in yogi squat instead of pushing into crow every time, and that really worked for me.  So I will slow things down, reconnect with my breath, and let things unfold as the Universe intends.  At least for a few days ;)

The year of love (and country music)

While the beginning of 2014 was marked by simply being a Wednesday, it is following a year of immense personal growth and change.  2013 was the first year I was ever really single. 

Valentines day was spent with my favorite Incubator Steph, my birthday was spent with two strong loving girlfriends, Christmas day was spent with my family, and New Years Eve was spent with the strong supportive Jill.  I wasn’t lonely in 2013 despite having my bed to myself every night because I managed to spend 365 days falling in love with the person looking back at me in the mirror.  I filled my time with yoga, prayer, and meditation.  I built strong life long friendships with women that are more amazing than I expected them to be and turned to people for guidance that I didn’t know I would ever trust. 

2013 was the most awkward painful year I have ever had – think back to preteen growing pains.  The biggest blessings came wrapped in some pretty ugly packages but with the support and coaching of the people that love me the most, I was able to dig through the muck and find the beauty inside.  Despite the tears, many were shed in the privacy of my home with the Stephs beside me, I was shaped to be stronger, smarter, and more loving.  Between the tears and the temper tantrums, there were enormous moments of elation that swept me off my feet and filled my heart.  Going to a concert with my brother, Incubator getting pregnant, finishing my teacher training, watching Steph grow stronger and stronger in her skin, showing up for my family, walking with A by the river analyzing our lives, laughing as my friends sang karaoke, and meeting my soul sister (Elisha, I miss you every time I walk down the hallway).  Those are the times that I hold on to as I go into 2014.

I became a woman in 2013.  I learned about respecting myself and always putting my own oxygen mask on first.  I was taught that I have a gift to offer the world but first I have to offer it to myself (thank you Kim!!!).  I don’t believe in setting resolutions, I believe in setting goals.  Goals have action to them, deadlines, and measurable results.  So yes, I would like to accomplish certain fitness goals this year, but the goal that is the most important to me is to love deeper.  Be less afraid.  Trust more.  Speak my truth.  Ask for what I need. 

As I head into the second day of 2014 I bring hope, positivity, and trust.  I know that none of us are the same, but I promise to love you all for your humanness anyway.  I thank my best friends for everything – your love elevated me to a place I didn’t know was possible.  And I thank my mom – without the love of my mom and true soul mate, I don’t think I would have accomplished half of what I have, and I certainly wouldn’t be prepared or confidant enough to conquer what I intend to in 2014.

With all the gratitude in my heart – thank you.

#goalcrusher #lovelife #keeptrudging #itstheyearofthehastag

ROI - a lesson in feel-nomics.

I am taking yoga teacher training right now and it is more of a spiritual journey for me than a physical one.  The movement comes naturally to me but my own presence kind of freaks me out.  Part of my homework for this week is to write a 60 second speech on what natural gift I possess and offer the world.  We also have to journal about our passions...I listed writing as a passion and realized I haven't posted in a long time...so here I am, being all passionate n' stuff.

It is good timing for a blog though, I have lots on my plate that is clogging that uber important pathway from my heart to my brain.  The enlightenment I am finding in teacher training is opening me up so much emotionally and I find it rewarding, but with every feeling that slips out of it's tightly closed spot in my heart, a struggle ensues.  I am fighting against a principle I have relied on so heavily the past couple years, "What is my ROI?"

ROI stands for "Return on Investment."  Essentially the better the expected return, the higher the ROI.  Therefore, I only go forward with relationships that will likely offer higher ROI.  Typical addict to use an investment strategy to determine potential mates and a cost / benefit analysis to determine if the time is worth it at all.  I ask myself what my potential ROI is every time I have feelings for someone.  Today at work a co-worker of mine told me I need to STOP.  That I will get a far greater reward if I take a risk.  I bluntly replied, "I am more of a flexible rate GIC kinda girl."  

(I know this is starting off nerdy but stay with me...it will get juicy soon.)

So I am at a crossroads, do I continue on my safe path, getting little back but being in control; or do I put all my chips on the table and hope for a royal flush?  Heck, I'd even settle for a strait right now!

The center of this dilemma is J.  J doesn't need a description because I am sure by now you trust my judgement in men...right?  Okay, fine, I will defend it.  He is happy!  That is the neatest thing!  He laughs constantly, he smiles genuinely, he listens earnestly, he comments truthfully...he's the type of person that you instantly connect with.  He helps others in ways I never could, he doesn't back down from a challenge or hard work, he leads by example, and doesn't hold resentments.  He doesn't judge me for my temper tantrums and he shows up when he says he will.  He is so likable.  TOO likable.

We are playful on the phone and there is a heaviness between us in person that has yet to be explored.  We haven't been physical in any sense, except the hello / good bye hugs are getting longer, and I am eager and yet grateful it hasn't been pushed.  I roll over in bed in the morning and wish that he was there to latch onto for an extra 5 minutes, and at night I wish he was there too.  I am excited like I was in grade 6 when I had a big crush on Ricky! 

Here it is though...the kicker.  What if I say something mature like, "we are compatible.  Would you like to go on a date, practicing some kissin, and then see where it goes?" and he says, "um ya, but with someone else...you're WAY too good of a friend!"  So, there it is...the fear or rejection.  When I told Kristi about my crush on Ricky in grade 6, she went and told him...he and I haven't been friends since then.  I don't want that to happen!  I have taken the initial risk of asking him to hang out a couple of times, and I am 0/2...which is a discouraging statistic (unless you are a Blue Jays fan, then you are used to it).  

So, now I look at my cost benefit analysis on a broader scale; do I continue to be meak about my feelings in almost all situations to protect my ego, or do I put my shoulders back and speak up?  Yoga is teaching me about being true to myself, I don't think "true to (my)self" means shutting down or hiding from the truth.  I think it means authenticity.  But acting authentic requires laying aside fears and my fears are the bricks around my carefully guarded heart.  So, Kristi, if you are reading this, would you please tell J I have a crush on him...and if he doesn't talk to me anymore I'll know why.  Until then, I will play it "cucumber cool" and trust that there is a plan infinitely bigger than me and my protective fears.

I wish the answer to life was as simple as read the book, follow the rules.

I am a girl.  I like just above the knee dresses, summer days, really good bronzer, and freshly shaved legs.  But I pride myself on being that tough girl who likes old sweat pants, rubber boots, unwashed hair, and getting dirty while pushing a rusty chuckwagon in the pouring rain.  Despite what I look like and what I like to pretend I am, I am still just a girl. 

The kind who holds back the stinging tears even when she's alone. 

The kind who falls for stuff and people so hard that it almost always causes pain (this includes ice cream and men).

I have been reading this book, "Why Men Love Bitches", bought for me my a very good friend who sees my constant struggle with boundaries.  I really try to work the principles in the book, just like I do with my blue book that so rigorously outlines how I need to live, but it's hard.  I am that nice girl that goes out of her way to make people happy, that says exactly how she is feeling, that pays for dinner, and that often gets wound up so tight that she inevitably snaps.

I slept with someone and it was different.  Or maybe I was different.  That's it.  It took me a very long time to get even close to overcome my issues regarding the opposite sex.  The need to consistently please or fear being left has haunted me for years.  When I was with this person (C, for generic sake), I didn't feel that need.  Unfortunately, despite every effort to convince myself it was nothing and I could compartmentalize the sex and the feelings and lock the feelings away, I couldn't do it.  It wasn't long before I felt the barrier around my heart start to crumble and I began to have "insane" thoughts like, "I want to hold his hand" and "I wonder if he would have a three B Saturday this weekend!?" 

And then it happened again.  Same person.  Slightly different circumstances.  Even better sex.  Well, give me that euphoric feeling of acceptance and I don't even consider leaving in the middle of night, and I am pretty much hooked.  Half smiles, random flashes of lame things like the color of his eyes and how I catch him looking at me in public.  I was like a fish that is almost caught - squirming uncomfortably, knowing full well that if I pull off, I hurt, and certain if I stay hooked I become dinner. 

Thank God for fear. 

Fear kept me grounded today.  Fear said, "told ya so," when he told me tonight that I'm "awesome" but we need to "cool it for a bit."  Sadly I know that my fear is an excuse.  The fear that I carried with me today that I would be rejected was real; but using fear as a cop out knowledge based excuse is bullshit.  It hurts to be rejected.  Even by someone you were only with twice.  Hurt is a feeling.  Fear is the brains way of dodging that bullet that results in tears creeping out the sides of my eyes and chain smoking until 1am.

I like to be the girl that can go from hurt to acceptance in 3 seconds, or at least I like to pretend to be.  I am smart.  I can work my way through my part pretty quickly and make my hurt a direct result of how I was selfish/insecure/lustful.  But what if part of the solution is getting there.  What if I am supposed to sit back and cry for a minute and feel that rejection?  I don't feel resentment, truthfully.  I trust C a lot after knowing him for a few months and know his reasons for pulling away are valid and I believe he feels like an ass as he claims to.  And I don't even resent myself in the situation.  I hurt.  And that is okay right?  To like someone for a while, and break all the rules in the book about when to text and what to say and what to do and when to have sex, well that makes me human - which is also okay.

I'm usually the girl who acts tough and says the right thing to bandaid feelings and stop the first awkward tear from falling, but tonight I am going to be me instead.  I am going to hug my pillow and maybe cry because getting pushed away brings a lot of feelings to the surface for me.  Tonight I am going to embrace my inner awkward, hurt, kind of scared little girl, and hopefully wake up tomorrow morning and find a renewed sense of purpose.  And if it doesn't come right away, that is okay too.  I think tears are like sleep, we don't get enough and we need them to grow.

Hope is the fire that burns the brightest

I sat at the beach yesterday with a friend who shared with me his zest for life.  We exchanged light conversation about the pros of being single; the freedom to eat what we want, sleep when we want, and watch whichever baseball team we want on TV.  His total confidence in the subject of love and what it means, even when single, gave my relationship status virtue.

I went to a wedding yesterday.  There was a 13 year old girl there (the daughter of the groom) who made a speech so eloquent about love that everyone in the room was moved to tears.  The true definition of love rang from her lips so crystal clear that it made my knowledge of the subject seem utterly inadequate.  The bold observation that one soul without its mate is incomplete, made me question my earlier acceptance.

I carried on a flirty text message conversation in between dreams last night that made me wake up with a smirk on my face so sly that even the Tim Hortons employee seemed to know I had a secret.  I peered eagerly into the future of what was to come of that.

I sat at a meeting today and listened to lady share about her growing pain at 10 years sober- the discovery that she was willing and capable of giving love but terribly afraid of receiving love.  I questioned again what is to come and how do I really feel?

Lately I feel as if I bought a plane ticket to destination that I never seem to arrive at.  I looked boldly into the future when I met C earlier in the year and expected a brief lustful rendezvous; when that expectation failed me, I leaned on the friendship pillar and prayed endlessly for acceptance of that.  Today I over analyze every comment, every text, and every gaze.  I dare to state that I usually know what is coming, because I always have.

When I was with X, I knew what to expect when we got back together.  I knew how the fights would unfold, how the sex would go, and what we would eat for breakfast on Saturday mornings.

I am confused.  I don’t know what is coming, the hopeful side of me finds that very exciting.  The fearful side of me finds that very terrifying.  C is more complex than I ever expected him to be.  I have exhausted all efforts of giggling and even tried the not giggling game.  I am not sure if it is the pursuit of a challenge that makes this so tempting or if it is truly feelings based. 

The power struggle between my ego and God has not allowed me to put C’s name on a piece of paper and turn it over.  Or maybe literally I would, but symbolically I know I can’t.  I can see this plane I am on landing and it won’t be gentle.  I will wake up one day with the ultimate feeling of rejection heavy on my heart and I will hurt.  I will tap into the heart shattering pain I felt the first few times X left.  The crash landing I am setting my heart up for is going to rattle me, but maybe riding this plane is the only thing I can do right now.  I have always been told that “life is a journey, not a destination.” 

But the same author wrote “People destined to meet will do so, apparently by chance, at precisely the right moment.”  So maybe, just for today, I will hold onto hope.

The Friend Zone

It has been a very long time since I blogged, but I have a serious, possibly life altering issue on my hands and suspect that sharing it with the cyber world will not only lessen the burden, but possibly allow me find peace with it.  Maybe?

The Friend Zone.  That Bermuda triangle of awkwardness where crushes go to die.  The Seven Minutes in Heaven that you spend playing rock paper scissors.  The “oh my God he is going to kiss me” moment, that is really just a “I have lettuce on my face and he is staring at it” moment.  The Friend Zone is horrible!  Have you been there?  How long did you stay?  What brought you there?  If you are curious about it, don’t be, it is terrible.  Definitely the worst place I have ever spent time.

I am not an expert in this field, but from my experience I think these are some of the reasons I have ended up in the friend zone: I like baseball, I can swear and it sounds natural, I don’t like to do my hair, I would rather be in Nike Frees than heels, I enjoy golf on TV, when someone asks what time it is I often reply “two freckles past a hair”, I would rather lift weights than go to Zumba, hamburgers are my favourite food, and lastly – I am not afraid to call you on your nonsense.

Here are some of the things I have tried to reverse the effects of the above: wearing fake eyelashes, giggling, going on girls trips, buying lip gloss (haven’t remembered to put it on yet), not following the playoffs, talking about myself endlessly, not mentioning that I can do all my own automobile work, taking inappropriate selfies, and wearing short dresses.

The end result is I have spent money on things I don’t want when I could have bought new Nikes, my IQ has dropped from laughing at guys jokes when they aren’t funny, and I have a cell phone full of pictures that even Paris Hilton would be ashamed of.

A couple months ago when the realization hit me that I had been friend zoned by someone I actually liked for real reasons (not the normal ones like, “he’s so mean!” or “he is so hot!” or the worst, “he is so good on paper!”), I drove out to High River.  That half hour drive offers solitude, excessive smoking, and my Dad to talk to upon arrival.  When I shared my woos with him he simply told me, in a bit of a drunken slur, “Krist-e-oni, you are born alone, and you die alone, so fuck em and be happy with you.”  It didn’t take away that hurt I felt from being friend zoned by “C” but it put things into perspective.

I see C more than I would like to, and I talk to him more than I should; I am not mature enough to turn off crush mode and turn on friend mode so I sit in the middle, balancing on a beam called “Lack of Acceptance” and hope that my patience and pathetic giggling (which has turned into an uncontrollable thing) pays off one day.  My defeat in the relationship area is not proving to be as frustrating as it once was, in fact last night I watched baseball, hockey, and ate a burger after spending 90 minutes killing myself at the gym…and no, I didn’t even wash my hair. 

The friend zone sucks, in fact it can be kind of lonely, but the only place worse is the place of self-doubt when you change everything about yourself for one person…who probably won’t even notice.  So go do your thing, “fuck em” as my Dad says. 

LF: answers, direction, and the easy way

I have written this blog 7 times and have no success creating any form of reasonable thought. I have so much whirring through my head: X, abuse victimology, the inner voice, who I am, what I want, how I process anger, my relationship with God...all that stuff ties together really nicely but it would make for much too long of an entry. So, as always, lets start with what is right in front of me.

Fear (which wasn't on the list, but at this very second seems most important).

I'm afraid I am going to end up with X.
I'm afraid my lack of relationship with God is going to send me back drinking.
I'm afraid that I will become a statistic of an abused woman, turned to alcohol to cope, who stays with her abuser until ultimately ending her life.
I'm afraid that I will die alone, or worse, with someone who doesn't love me.
I'm afraid that when I feel angry I am unable to process it and my first thought is, "I'm scared. Can't drink. Cut?"
I'm afraid that my inner voice will never shut up long enough for me to figure out who I really am and focus on the 5 senses all around me.
I'm afraid I won't end up with X.

I'm scared absolutely shitless because I have no idea what I want from anyone.

I tell my sponsees, friends, and family members to trust their gut and go with instinct, but my instincts are seeming to cause problems. To me this identifies the biggest problem in my life, my lack of God, or more specifically lack of relationship with God.

So if I am going to focus on what is right in front of me, what I can take action on right now, it is not obsessing about X's suggestion that "maybe" we have lunch this weekend, or why the hot chiropractor I went out with hasn't called, or what I'm going to do about the extra few inches I want to lose, or how I am going to spend all the money that I don't make...it is God. My friend always says, "where is God in this?"

I know God can and will if He is sought, so I'd better start seeking again.

Stay tuned... I think these next few days are gonna be heavy.

Should have been in sales so I could track my progress

Anniversaries have been popping into my head a lot lately - on November 11th, it will be 7 months since I broke up with X; December 5th will be 2.5 years sober; November 3rd was my 4 month mark at my job.  A year ago I met one of my best friends.  I am not sure why dates have become so important to me.  Perhaps it is because I mark everything in my calendar so I don't forget anything?  I remember making fun of a girlfriend once because she set reminders in her phone to shave her legs so she would get up earlier on those days...I am now that bad (or that good?).

I think that we are reminded of certain dates and lengths of time so we can track how far we have come since then, or where we hope to be by then.  7 months ago I was sitting on a couch staring into the eyes of the person that I love most in the world trying to verbalize that I couldn't stay with him; 2.5 years ago I was hiding bottles of red wine so no one knew how much I drank and praying that self esteem group therapy was the answer to my problems.  4 months ago I was nervous and excited and certain that THIS was it, this was the job for me.  A year ago I was sitting in a coffee shop with a girl I hardly knew, though knew so much about, intimidated beyond belief.

I was chatting with a girl today about how we are often the last person to see the progress in ourselves, explaining that we often hold ourselves to such high standards that we cannot ever seem to meet them, though everyone around us sees us blowing by the metaphorical bar.  Why do we do that?  Upon further thought I realize this expectation we have ourselves and the inability to ever meet it is a form of self hate.  I should speak in "I" and "me"...forgive me.

I set my bar high to always keep growing, or thats what I tell myself.  But I wonder, when will I ever be good enough for me.  When will I stop cringing when I look in the mirror (I got my first cellulite a couple months ago and it seems to be replicating at an uncontrollable rate)?  When will I be proud of my length of sobriety?  When will I accept that I love someone I was with for almost 5 years and that is okay?  I read that the level of my serenity is directly proportional to my level of acceptance, therefore; to be at an optimal level of serenity, I must simply accept things the way they are- cellulite, broken heart, and all.

But I struggle with that.  I am results driven.  I want things to be done perfectly, immediately, and my way.  I love change, though I hate pain.  But I guess some things never change - I still love him, I still wish the solution to life was group therapy and worksheets, I still think this is the job for me despite my struggles (thank God for TJ), and I am still intimidated by so many people and their absolute wondrous abilities.

So I am at a crossroads, where I find myself often right before bed when my very best insane ideas come - do I do a thorough self examination and set goals and make sincere changes to achieve the things I want?  Or do I continue to do what is working, find peace in my mind and body the way they are, and simply enjoy the gifts that life is giving me now?  To rededicate my life to changing my body, how I am perceived at work, my friendship groups, and my quality of sobriety, will be exhausting, likely too much to do at once, but worth it?

I am not a sitter.  I know the answer to my whirring mind and loneliness is not isolation and group therapy.  I know that my ass will not rejuvenate to its once perky dimple free self if I sit and eat blizzards.  I am pretty sure that not increasing my work ethic to reflect my work load will not get me very far.  So I will take action.  I ask myself when faced with the task of creating an action plan, "what can I do immediately?"  I work in 8 hours...I guess I'll start there :)

So much more than giggles...

I was on the phone tonight processing my emotional hangover.  The first call was a lot of listening to some one who I love and respect more than I ever thought I could.  More on W in another entry.  The second call was a more heartfelt one, honest and open…fearful and teary at times, echoed with the light hearted giggle that says, “you are not alone.”

I listened a lot tonight, to W & my gorgeous friend Holly, but the key thing I heard was, “unlearn to unlove.”

The most natural thing in the world for us is to love and allow ourselves to be loved in return.  What happens to us, usually as young children, is that we are taught though a less than desirable experience, that loving someone is scary.  They might leave us we fear.  Or die.  Or not love us back.  So we harden our hearts into coffee like masses (blackness) and disallow anyone to really permeate the membrane that we call caution.  By doing this, we turn to cold shadows of people who say, “I love you”, and write kind words in birthday cards, but do we mean it? 

We have spent our lives learning to be hard, strong, and independent.  We have learned to unlove.  We have turned our back on our God given state of loving human beings, and given up our Heavenly instinct to adore, nurture, and cherish, because we are AFRAID.

I have learned that living in fear is wrong.  That there are steps I can take to recover from that “seemingly hopeless state of mind and body.”  However, when the tools are presented to me, in a perfectly wrapped blue book, what is preventing me from picking them and putting them to work?  More fear.  Because to change my current state of blackness, hardness, and unloving state, is terrifying, not to mention hard work.

I don’t have the answer (to life the universe or everything else), but I do know that if I really truly to LET GO and trust my gut, I have a chance to returning to the innocent state of bliss and serenity that I once was that allowed me to LOVE.

Once again, I have gone on long enough, and as a result I have no idea what I was trying to say.  But I loved and I got hurt and because I got hurt, I got scared and now I have mastered the art of unloving.  I am starting to realize that perhaps unloving needs to be unlearned. 

This is my commitment, I will jump in, head first.  I will follow my gut and I will start letting myself love again.  And as it happens, I am certain that things will hurt again, but I was reminded tonight, that through the tears I will giggle.  

Wake up, cry, work, cry, don't sleep, repeat - then pray

It’s been a while since I blogged...April 12^th of this year...I am not sure if I still know how to write?  I do know that when my life is this full, my head is this dizzy, and my heart is this swollen, the words flow freely; here I am, trying to create literary genius one poorly organized blog at a time.

When I got sober I was told that God will always give me what I need when I need it.  Not when I want it, or in some cases, not want it.

I can assure you I didn’t want 6 weeks of zombie like motions, tears, sleeplessness, and rage when I broke up with X.  I promise you that I didn’t want to stop golfing, watching baseball, and sleeping in my bed because it made me think of him, but I did.  Even 5 months later, I am not sure if I was in love, or if my co-dependency was in full force for the entire time I was with X.  I know that the wrench twisting my heart every day was hopelessness, and I know that the weight in my stomach that left no room for food was fear.  I’ve decided that they call it a break up because when you are so fully invested in another person and when you leave them (or they leave you), you are physically, spiritually, and emotionally broken.  If you are completely enamoured with one individual and you have based your entire adult life around them, you are beyond broken.  You are catapulted into another dimension where you are certain you will never smile, laugh, or love again; and where trudging though the day and forcing a smile requires so much effort that a mid afternoon psychotic melt down is essential. 

I remember weeks of going to work in baggy jeans, baggy t-shirts (malnutrition will do that), and ballet flats with my hair in a disgusting dirty pony tail.  I vividly recall turning out my light, praying for sleep, and being able to remember every inch of X’s skin and every swell of every muscle.  That was normal.  And disgustingly painful. 

Despite the grief cycle working EXACTLY how Google (and my shrink) said it would, I was not prepared for the anxiety and hurt that took up most of my waking hours.  My shrink assured me I would be on the upswing in 6 weeks and suggested I start practicing Step 11.  I responded, “Oh, I don’t do that.”  Which clearly explains how spiritually bankrupt I was. 

However, when I had enough of letting the obsession and disease run my life, and I realized I was incredibly close to picking up a drink, I got on my knees and somewhat doubtfully asked God for help. By day two of praying again (because it had been over a year), I got honest; crying, yelling, wiping my face so I could go to work, and then coming home to do it all over again.  I faced the fact that God took away my fear of being sober, my obsession for alcohol, and my selfishness because I humbly offered myself Him; therefore, why wouldn’t He take this away too?

“This is an action program”, so I worked myself to the bone to renew my shattered spiritual condition. I stumbled, many times; tried dating again; cried, yelled, threatened; smiled – finally.  And now I smile often.  Every day.  I finally understand what it is like to have a bad minute, not a bad day.  I have latched on to hope and have turned my back on guilt, shame, and remorse.  I have decided my life is mine and it will be lived.  X still crosses my mind, and even sent me a text this morning, but when I start to feel sad, lonely, hopeless, scared, and completely unloved, I get down on my knees and work on developing the calluses that those who have come before me, and stayed, brag about.

Celebrate endings - for they precede new beginnings

So, I broke up with X last night.

It was the hardest thing I have ever had to do.  He didn’t believe me when I said that, but my heart was breaking even saying the words.

I stuck to my guns, remained calm, and didn’t let his lashing out throw me off.  I told him I loved him, but that I couldn’t be with someone who I didn’t make happy, and that at the end of the day, he needed to find that for himself.

He told me he felt like he was “settling” with me.  OUCH.  Big sting.  I sat there open mouthed for about 30 seconds and didn’t know what to say.  I thought I treated him pretty well...

I have a feeling of relief today though.  A feeling that God is looking out for me, things will be okay, and I did the right thing.  I was so tired with X.  I felt like I was walking on eggshells all the time, so afraid to upset him.  I was exhausted from trying to say and do the right thing to make him love me, even though I could see in his eyes, he just didn’t anymore.

I know my whole life is “one day at a time”, but I feel excited for the future, and I don’t see it involving X.  I am okay with that.  I have acceptance around the fact that I spent 5 years of my life trying to make it work and it failed.  Key word there, “it.”  I am reminded that I didn’t fail.  That I am good enough.  That I tried.  And that sometimes, love just isn’t enough.

I still believe in that fairy tale – happy ending kind of love.  Even though X told me I was delusional for thinking that was real.  I know there is someone out there for me that I won’t have to try so hard for, change for, and be afraid of.  I am not expecting that kind of love to come to me tomorrow, but soon would be good!  I am at a good place in my life, and yes, that may change tomorrow, and I may cry myself to sleep next week.  But I have been told so much lately that I amazing, and that I deserve more.  I am ready for more.  And yes, at little bit anxious!

I don’t feel resentful at X for lashing out at me.  I believe that was his ego speaking and that he was perhaps a little hurt that I was leaving him.  In the past he has always left me, so I took control, and I am sure that scared him.  Maybe one day X will make amends to me, but I don’t expect that, and I am okay with not hearing the words “I’m sorry” from his mouth ever again.  Our relationship was so based on apologies and false promises that to hear it again will just be meaningless.

I truly want the best for X.  Unfortunately, and yes this breaks my heart, I wasn’t the best for him.  I tried to be.  I changed everything about myself – most of worked out for the best, but it still wasn’t enough.  I pray that he finds peace with himself and never feels like he has to settle again.

Now, I look forward to tomorrow with gratitude knowing that the people, who truly love me and God, are on my side.  I am blessed that through prayer, I was able to find the courage to change what I could.

And if you are reading this, and maybe feeling a bit sad for me…I love your empathy, but I am okay!

xo

Bird

I read this story last night about a bird and a woman.
The woman and the bird fell in love, and out of fear that the bird would leave, the woman trapped the bird in a cage.
All the woman's friends exclaimed, "you must be so happy! you have everything you want now!"
But the woman grew tired of the bird, it's feathers began to fall out, and the bird lost all of it's liveliness.  Eventually, the bird died.
The woman was destroyed, and soon death came knocking for her as well.
When she asked, "why are you taking me?"
Death replied, "because it is the only way you can be with your love"

This got me thinking, have I trapped X?  Out of fear of losing him?  Is he in a metaphorical cage, withering away because of me?
He told me the other day that my state of mind lately (depressed) has been "sucking the life out of him."  That broke my heart.
I never wanted to bring him harm or pain.

But, as was explained to me, the story of the bird, isn't about harming someone, it is about letting them be free.  I hope that the people I love feel free around me.  I hope I bring them joy and happiness.  I hope I make their lives easier, and not difficult.  And I hope, more than anything in the world...I pray for this every morning...that they find Love Light and Happiness in their every day.

I just got home from a weekend in Fairmont BC with my friend Jill.  Who is a God send in my life.  Our age difference is vast and our lives couldn't be more different, but she is someone who adds strength to my life and joy to my heart.  I spent a great deal of time journaling and praying while I was away - I still havent mastered meditation (but I tried!), and on my drive home today - through the gorgeous mountains, with Adele's soothing voice blaring through my speakers...I found peace.  I haven't felt serene in a long time.  I have been battling depression and it has taken every thing in my power to not give up on life completely.
I was over come with this feeling that everything will be okay, and I finally began to believe what I have been preaching - God has a plan.
Things aren't always going to work out the way I want them too.  Even though I have been blessed with things working out pretty much on par to my expectations, it will not always be that way, and I have come to accept that.  And I mean that, I am not just saying it.

Yes, I am sad, and scared, and obsessing about X and where he is at, but I am OKAY.  And the coolest thing is, I know I will be if things with X come to an end.  It will take a while, and a lot of smoking and journaling, and most importantly, a lot of time with the amazing ladies in my life, but one day I will wake up and he won't be the first thing on my mind.  And put a few of those days in a row, and I may just be well on my way to feeling better.

Last night Steph said something quite insightful, as she always does, "If you're still thinking, he probably is too", just let him be."  I did think a lot this weekend.  I bounced around from my head and heart to being in agreement that it needed to be over, for real this time; to my head telling me to pray for courage and end things, while my heart broke even thinking about it; to now, where I am in full agreement that I DO want to be with X.  That of course means dropping expectations of him to change and accepting who he is, and more importantly, the willingness from him to be with me too.

I think I am rambling, which I don't to often do, so I wil wrap it up with as much wisdom as my full obsessive mind can muster.  Let go.  The only person who can make you happy is yourself, so be happy with yourself, and let go of the people who can't accept you.  Keep your side of the street clean and do your best every day to "do all things with love"

Learn To Be Still

Have you heard the song by the Eagles “Learn to be Still”?  No? Listen to it.

I feel like I am always chasing the next high.

Is that what life is, chasing highs?

If I’m not spending money, or planning a trip, or working my ass off at something…I am depressed.  So I don’t stop.  I can’t watch TV anymore, I can hardly sit still to read a book, and there is no way I can drive anywhere without a smoke in one hand and a beverage in the other.

So what is it about myself that I can’t just stop and be?  I am not content, or serene.  I am a whirring mass of madness, always looking for something to take me higher.  I don’t believe that neutral is a real feeling; you’re either up or down.  Never balanced.

I am constantly looking for new ways to be entertained, or new things to put in my calendar.  Kick boxing, dates with friends from high school, sober dances, fancy dinners, mini vacations, day trips to Edmonton…anything I can do to fill my time and entertain me, makes me happy.  I can’t have downtime.  I can’t relax or sit still, thus meditating is unheard of for me.  I go to bed when I have nothing to do, because being awake and bored is the ultimate depressor for me.

I love a man who loves to watch TV.  Or sit and play on the computer.  Or engage in video game warfare for hours at a time.  HOW DOES HE DO IT!?  It seems so foreign to me that a person could sit still for that length of time and not be on the go.  Going to a movie theatre is painful for me because I have no choice but to sit and watch.  At home when we watch TV, I am cooking, cleaning, painting my nails, or doing yoga.  All while following the show and laughing when appropriate. 

How do you do it?  All you normal people out there – how do you sit and relax and not go absolutely stir crazy within seconds?  How do you not have a mental freak out when it is suggested that you “be still.”  How is not the end of the world when someone cancels plans and you are left with no other option than TV?

Perhaps, and likely, I am just nuts.  But probably, I’ll just keep on wandering because I “how do I get out of here, where do I fit in?”

57

The title of this blog refers to my emotional intelligence.  57 / 100.  Which is pretty shitty.
It inspired me to write.

I’m confused. 

I’ve got it really good.

Like really good.  Life in sobriety when working a program is amazing (there goes my anonymity).

But it’s not enough.

I want more.

Work is fantastic, but I want more challenge.

My family loves me, but I want more attention.

My boyfriend is amazing, but I want more from him.

The only thing I seem to be really satisfied with are my amazing, wonderful, gorgeous, caring girlfriends.  But even that being said, I am rekindling some old friendships to see what they can turn into.

What is wrong with me?

A friend told me last night “follow your heart, not your ego – it gets in the way of what we truly want.”  And I love that.  Like, going to get it tattooed on the back of my hand I love it so much (not really).

I just don’t understand WHY I always want more.  Am I that entitled that I feel I deserve more?  Am I blind to the blessing’s in my life so I don’t see them?

Or am I just ignorant to God’s grace and love, and I turn my back on it to look for the next high?

I pick fights, cause chaos, and over react, JUST for the reaction it gets.  I make a big deal out of little things – like not getting flowers – because it makes me feel important to have feelings.  Just the other day, I cried over something not worth tears because I thought it would make me more in control of the situation…it didn’t.    I spend money on things I don’t need (though I am getting better) because it makes me feel better temporarily.

I guess this means I have a low EQ because I am attention seeking.  “People with low EQ often have low self esteem, poor self confidence, and thus feels insecure.” - http://www.bullyonline.org/workbully/attent.htm  Oh lovely, I’m a freak.  An emotionally retarded, insecure, freak.

But guess what?  I am okay with it.  I pray and do the things suggested and things are turning out pretty good.  Great actually.  It is too bad that my glasses are tinted so dark that I can’t see that, but I have a great deal of faith that I will get there.  And besides, what is wrong with wanting MORE?

If you are interested in the test, it can be found at http://www.queendom.com/.

"It'll make your jaw drop" Steve Jobs

The sun was high and the weather was gorgeous for February in Western Canada.  Nothing out of the ordinary had happened.  A typical Wednesday…work, get snapped at by the boss, fake smile, work out, back to work…but then it all went awry.

I opened the door to freedom and began hurriedly walking towards my car.  Gym bag and purse over one shoulder, keys dangling expectantly from my finger, phone & iPod clutched in my hand.

Then it happened.  It was like the sky opened and a Godly force came and struck me from above.  Everything changed in that instant.  My heavy gym bag pulled me to the ground as I slipped, the contents of my purse spilled dramatically onto the frosted concrete…then time slowed. 

I felt it happen before I saw it happen.  I heard the crack in my mind before the sound registered in my ears.  My fourth generation iPod touch…my calendar, my camera, my boombox, my internet browser… fell. 

I picked it up as quickly as I good, hoping the 5 second rule would apply and it wouldn’t be broken if I got to it quickly enough.  I was wrong.  The screen had shattered starting in the corner and spider webbed it’s way to the middle. 

My first thought was, “It’s just snow.”

My second thought was, “This is a nightmare…wake up!”

Then reality.  “This just happened.  The most valuable, compact, dependable product I own is ruined.”

I blindly walked to my car and in an emotional black out, I started the engine.  I don’t remember driving home that night.

Upon wiping the tears from eyes and telling myself, “I can get it fixed” I tested it for functionality. 

How relieved was I to find out that I could still play Words with Friends!  That my music was still there!  My calendar was still full!  I could still take too many photos of my cats and post them ALL to Instagram!

I turned, went outside, and beamed to the sky.  The God that I had so previously shunned had smiled upon me!  The cosmetic damage to my iPod was tragic…She was going to be disfigured forever; but Her innards, Her guts…they were still going!

I spent the next few days online trying to find a credible repairperson that could replace my screen promptly.  I found very little.  All the reliable businesses in Calgary charged less than impressive fees to fix the screen and wanted to have my precious iPod in their possession for 3-5 business days.  So I made the decision to get a very good quality case to prevent the shatter from spreading, and to budget carefully for the next few months until I could afford an iPhone.

I am telling you this story, with added dramatic flare for a reason.  Saturday mornings are my favorite time of the week.  I catch up on my TV from the week, drink a pot of coffee, reorganize my playlists, edit some photos on my macbook Pro, catch up on celebrity gossip while facetiming with my out of town friend, and rejuvenate myself from a stressful week.

This Saturday (today) was different.  I woke up disgruntled from a restless sleep, the coffee was awful, and my cats were sick.  I was ready for a terrible day.  I was angry, anxious, and ready to go throw some air punches at the gym so I looked tougher than I felt.

But, I drank my terrible coffee, hoisted my cats on to the couch, turned on my shows from the week, and opened my macbook Pro.

Everything changed.

Upon plugging in my iPod syncing cord, I felt in control.

I looked past Her shattered screen and scratched back and revaluated what was in side Her.

When iTunes launched I felt that the possibilities were endless.

My photos synced to iPhoto and seamlessly loaded themselves into my album “iPod Photos = Daily Appreciation for the Beautiful.”

Genius started searching songs I should buy based on what I already had in my collection.

My iPod BINGED with delight as my worthy opponent made a fatal move in Words With Friends.

I took a sip of coffee, and then I began.

I furiously started entering songs into YouTube for a lengthy preview, I loaded pictures into Color Splash and Photo Lite to make them come alive, I caught up on my news, my gossip, and my fashion trends of the week.

About an hour into my process, it clicked. 

No matter how little I slept or how sick my furry four legged friends were, my dependable, inventive, entertaining Apple products, would ALWAYS cheer me up, allow me to be creative, and help me build playlists for the gym called “Air punch, kick, run faster” without being judgmental.

So, thank you Apple.  Thank you for having products that make me smile all the time, work all the time, and make my Saturday mornings lively.  I have decided to skip the risky repair man and visit an Apple store for a suggestion on how to repair, replace, or upgrade my much loved, much needed, 4^th generation iPod touch.

I'm lost, I've gone to look for myself, if I should return before I get back, please ask me to wait

It's been a while since I blogged.
I have  been in this incredibly lovey bubbly pink place called Happy.
It is glorious, have you been?
Life is amazing.

That is a lie, life is confusing.

It's 8:30 on a Saturday night and I spent the day prepping for tonight, but I just ran 5 miles and now I am blogging.  So yes, life is confusing.

I've put in a lot of work, and at the same time, none at all to be happy.  I have learned that letting go really is key to acceptance and thus happiness.  I have realized that the beautiful people in my life love me and that I am worth something to them.  I have grown in to the person that I always wanted to be.

But tonight, I am struggling.  Hence the blogging, running, and chain smoking.  I almost went to the Yardhouse tonight.  For those of you who really know me, you know what that means and how bad that is.  I wanted to feel numb, then I realized I already did.  So I let God lead me safely home to my treadmill and my MacBook Pro.  Big shout out to the man in the sky!

I don't know where to start with my feelings because it has been so long since I blogged that I am sure everyone except Steph will be lost if I start at now.  But I am selfish, and my fingers are cold, thus I shall start at tonight.

I have spent a great deal of energy lately, not forced energy, just energy, showing my partner that I love him, respect him, and cherish him very much.  I tell him I love him every day.  I rub his feet.  I stretch him out.  I make him fancy nachos,  I schedule "I love you - Lasagna" nights, just so he knows how much I care.  I was told tonight that I don't appreciate him and that nothing he does is good enough.  Okay fine, to be honest, and before you say, "well he is an ass!!", I did get a little pissed on Valentine's Day because I had to wait until 10pm to get my card, and I did blame him for me waking up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.  So admittedly, I am not perfect.

I was told tonight via text that there was a problem and that we would talk about it later, but we didn't.  Which is mostly my fault as I am a terrible face to face communicator and I usually just shut down.
Tonight I really tried though!
I dressed cute, then some stranger rolled down their window and whistled, which in turn got my outfit called "skanky."
I took him to the Keg, but there was an hour wait at two of them.
I didn't probe, I didn't pester, and I didn't nag!  I didn't even cry!
It was suggested strongly that I spend the night at my house after dinner was a bust and tensions were running high, so I calmly left (didn't even slam the door), got in my car, and safely drove home.
I haven't texted, called, or left any mildly physco letters under his door.

So, here I am blogging kind of lonely, questioning what is next, and still smoking.
My partner is a wonderful even tempered man who I love beyond words, who hasn't expressed anything but love for months, but perhaps he is right...perhaps I don't show my appreciation enough, maybe I am still angry despite all the work I have put in, or maybe, and I pray I am wrong it is just not meant to be.

I guess it is time to practice what I preached at the beginning of this blog - Let Go.  Tonight I shall enjoy my alone time, get some sleep, love my cats, and remember that no matter what happens at the end of the day, there is still tomorrow.