My Next Step

I don't like goodbyes. I realized I may be slightly obsessed with vampires because of their lack of goodbyes. I feel like I could've said goodbye to this blog for awhile but I wasn't sure how. 
I wish I could say I'm ending this blog because a new chapter has been turned...like I got a new job when really I'm temping at the company that laid me off or I'm moving when really I just resigned my lease, or we're engaged when really our pacing hasn't changed, or he said I love you when really he hasn't (worldwide groan).
Things are starting to build up and starting to bother me. Others seem to have this very natural way to move forward and I'm a little stuck. I want things to change, I'm just not sure on the direction.

I mostly want more out of my relationship but I don't know what. I'm happy where things are but I know I need to figure out where my heart lies in future stages in order to sort out the present. Whenever I think about next steps a fog rolls in on me and I don't have a clear image. I think it has a lot to do with 2 things- my parents separation and me not having my first relationship till I was 24. I'm a tad emotionally stunted in sharing my life with someone. I clearly don't know fully how.
My mother seems to think that when I meet the right guy then this image becomes clear but I don't believe that. 

I think it has to do with my own comfort level with those 'Bridget Jones' next steps as I get older...meeting parents, moving in, marriage. It all involves giving up a part of myself I just don't know how to let go of. It's like I'm missing these puzzle pieces. I know I should want to give up these parts as I merge more with my boyfriend's own parts but I keep hitting a road block.
I always felt I would address all of these things in therapy when I was ready and now's the time for me. Time to call in the shrinkadink. I can't progress and evolve without figuring out what I want and my relationship can't either...no matter who I'm with. 

So I'm stopping posts and will start a new blog as soon as I feel I have reading worthy content to share with you all. This blog has been an amazing outlet and source of support over the past years and I appreciate all my commenters and followers. Stay tuned...

The Burn

I’m really starting to think there’s something in the universe that just doesn’t want me to be intimate with the BF. 

I met him after a beach day with friends this weekend and was looking forward to some quality time, if you know what I mean. Within an hour I realized my chest and upper thighs were bright pink and not in a sexy way. 

And just like that, my mojo had burned in the sun just like the first layer of my skin had. Our activities remained PG the rest of the weekend- minor league baseball game, bumming on the couch and seeing Monsters University. (highly reco the movie btw).

On the train ride home I was frustrated. Yes, my burn was uncomfortable but a part of me thought I could still initiate the intimacy with him and just suck up the discomfort. Another part of me thinks that getting a burn was a sign that I wasn’t fully ready for a bedroom date with him again.

As mentioned it’s been months since we were fully intimate due to life happening and I want our physical time together to be when we’re both feeling good in our bodies- but that hasn’t happened in awhile. We’re just getting back into the swing of things and not having hospital talk in every conversation.

It’s been a challenging year so far and my fear is that these dips will control the year and we’ll still be in this limbo months from now.

I thought I was out of it a few weeks ago and feeling better but then I got laid off and now I have a sunburn. Okay, in comparison the sunburn really doesn’t matter and isn’t as roadblocking as the surgeries we had- but I guess what I’m saying is, I’m ready for some flat road with no dips. Just for a little bit so I can at least have a bedroom date and feel like a girl again. Then, sure- bring on more dips once I can get my full footing without feeling like a lobster.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

It’s been 2.5 weeks since I’ve been laid off and I’m still not used to this in limbo lifestyle. 

My main struggle with it is spending so much time alone. I’ve always been an advocate of having self-dates and making quality time for yourself often. But every day is a bit much.

Trying to make a busy schedule when you don’t have a job is a full time job in itself. I make lunches and coffee dates with contacts. 
I'm emailing everyone I’ve literally ever met in the last 6 years in my industry whether I've just talked to them 2 weeks ago or 2 years. 
That’s over100 people in under 2 weeks. I’ve had 2 interviews so far and following any and all leads much like a detective.

So it’s really a matter of when and not if, that I get working again. In the meantime though I’m realizing how much of my identity I put into my work life- and how unbalanced I feel without it. 

But silver lining, here’s a list of the good things about being unemployed:

having no bedtime
not having to wear makeup or heels everyday
having time to get in great shape and tan
reconnecting with old friends
two words ‘Netflix’ and ‘HBOGo’
not setting an alarm clock
having unlimited time to do errands
having time to shave in the shower and actually feel like a girl
being able to pick my next career direction
collecting unemployment 

Does anyone have anything else to add that I'm not thinking of?

Perhaps I Was Unclear

Remember last month when I said all I wanted to do was get through May so life could balance itself back out in June? We all heard me say that right? I said this to my blog world, the universe and my family and friends. I was kinda due for a better month. Something got lost in translation.

I got laid off yesterday from a job I loved. I had been with the company for 2 years and I was going to ask for a raise this week.

It was the second round of layoffs in a week under the direction of a new CSO and there was no warning signs my department would get hit. We did. Me and three other senior level producers.

Just a word of advice- if you ever are asked to go into a room with your boss to talk and there's a woman or man you've never met before sitting with a folder- run the other way. 

Everything happened in slow motion- even when I left the office at noon and started pounding JD and cokes at the nearest bar. 

The boyfriend and a few friends met me out around 6pm. By that time I was pretty much drunk but decided champagne was a great idea. I cried and drank and laughed and drank. 

My boyfriend took me back to his place in the suburbs and we hooked up for the first time in months. We both needed it and it actually did make me feel better. Today was a dark day for me. He went to work and I stayed in his bed for the entire day. Only getting up to pee.

I'm back at my place now and everyone's advice is floating in my head. Take time off, escape for a few weeks, go to Boston, go to London. I'm scared to switch off, even for a day. I worked so hard to get to this point in my career and I was literally just thinking to myself how much I loved my job and where I was at. I need to dive back in and start new but I'm still attached to where I was just yesterday.

I'm angry. I feel lost and confused but mostly sad. I don't know what to do or where to go. The silver lining is here somewhere. I'm meant to go somewhere and be a part of something else that I can't see right now. I want tomorrow to come but I'm really not sure what I'm supposed to do with it. Any ideas?

Perhaps I Was Unclear

Remember last month when I said all I wanted to do was get through May so life could balance itself back out in June? We all heard me say that right? I said this to my blog world, the universe and my family and friends. I was kinda due for a better month. Something got lost in translation.
I got laid off yesterday from a job I loved. I had been with the company for 2 years and I was going to ask for a raise this week.

It was the second round of layoffs in a week under the direction of a new CSO and there was no warning signs my department would get hit. We did. Me and three other senior level producers.

Just a word of advice- if you ever are asked to go into a room with your boss to talk and there's a woman or man you've never met before sitting with a folder- run the other way. 
Everything happened in slow motion- even when I left the office at noon and started pounding JD and cokes at the nearest bar. 

The boyfriend and a few friends met me out around 6pm. By that time I was pretty much drunk but decided champagne was a great idea. I cried and drank and laughed and drank. 

My boyfriend took me back to his place in the suburbs and we hooked up for the first time in months. We both needed it and it actually did make me feel better. Today was a dark day for me. He went to work and I stayed in his bed for the entire day. Only getting up to pee.

I'm back at my place now and everyone's advice is floating in my head. Take time off, escape for a few weeks, go to Boston, go to London. I'm scared to switch off, even for a day. I worked so hard to get to this point in my career and I was literally just thinking to myself how much I loved my job and where I was at. I need to dive back in and start new but I'm still attached to where I was just yesterday.

I'm angry. I feel lost and confused but mostly sad. I don't know what to do or where to go. The silver lining is here somewhere. I'm meant to go somewhere and be a part of something else that I can't see right now. I want tomorrow to come but I'm really not sure what I'm supposed to do with it. Any ideas?

The Lightness

May is over. We are knee deep in June now. It's a recovery month for the both of us. We're adjusting slowly and trying to figure out what the hell happened in May.

"I just need a light at the end of the tunnel." I said to him as I was almost begging for any kind of trip out of town for the 2 of us. "I know, " he agreed. "I just need to make sure the light isn't an on coming train."

If that doesn't sum up how men and women think, I don't know what does. Think about it.

I knew he was right. He checked off everything still going on 'his mother's 2 serious surgeries, his cat dying (yes the fucking cat died), my recovery, his recovery and continuous tests.

My work schedule has me slammed until July and that's when he's traveling next. 2013...I'm not a fan of your humor this year. Ever hear of taking a break?

We couldn't jump into a week long vacation just yet. 

I was hoping we'd both blink at the start of this month and somehow all would be healed. He has more interal scars and mine are just starting to heel. My stiches aren't even out yet. But my desire for normalcy is growing even though I'm mentally and physically still lagging behind.

We talk about it though. And even though sometimes we talk in tunnel metaphors, it works for us. He squeezes my hand and I rub his shoulder in response. We're talking. We're here and we're present. 

I tell him that I hate that under doctors orders I haven't been able to run in over two weeks. I feel tired and cranky and lazy. He says I shouldn't feel bad, he hasn't been running since the Bush administration. I ask, which one. He replied quickly, the first one. 

He complains about eating salads and how after over 2 weeks of not drinking and sticking to fruits and veggies per his doctor, he's cranky and hungry. And somehow we're in this same rocky, sinking boat that we're both trying to excape from but need to mend first.

Even though the last few months have been challenging I still don't want anything else. Not from him or anyone else. I can't imagaine being where some  of my other friends are right now...engaged or married. 

Suddenly when you have a ring on your finger or start having kids your relationship ends. You become what you're doing. You are engaged. You are married. You aren't with a boyfriend and you aren't in a relationship. Talking about the work that goes into the relationship stops. Suddenly, there are no problems to speak of. 

Everything becomes a to -do list. I ask friends about their fiancees or husbands and they're all somehow doing just amazingly fine. They're too busy helping plan a wedding to be anything else. 

This is the part I don't understand. How everything just becomes a title and nothing else is talked about. You're married. You don't mention the difficulties anymore...you don't mention the worries you have about him. 

Where does the relationship go when the ring goes on? I really don't know. 

All I know is that right now I'd rather have this: a silly tunnel metaphor we both understand and a really great kiss at the end of date night. 

Meh.

Can I fast forward to June? I'm over this month. I'm over the last 5 months actually and feeling on pause in my relationship. 

We're talking and communicating but sometimes, like this past weekend, we both feel meh and talk less. And I'd rather be with him and feel meh then not be with him. 

He has his surgery this week and then by the time he fully recoups then I have mine. So in theory we should be both feeling better by June. I like to think this way. That I'll feel like buying sexy lingerie again and we can go on vacation somewhere in June. And our relationship will involve less couch time.

But then my head gets filled with 'what ifs'. What if his health worries don't go away and what if they get worse? What if he needs another operation in 6 months? What if we've lost our intimacy? Two people can't last if they both feel meh. 

I'm in my own head too much. I wonder if I'm being supportive enough and helpful and I know he's wondering the same thing.

We're pretty much a couple with broken legs right now. That's what the weight of these operations feels like. A tad dramatic,  I know. 

But this waiting is paralyzing and we both know it. We've talked about it but not too recently. And now I think we're at this point of -OK we want these times to be over. 

It could be worse but I really think limbo is one of the worst places to be. I keep having these daydreams and sometimes actual dreams of how I want things to be, a mix of how they were and should be without all these messy health stuff. 

Then I wake up and we've spent another weekend together and I don't get my dreams in reality. I don't have the energy for them right now. In June, I will though. The weight will be lighter and we'll feel like real people again, not stuck in a waiting room.  

Let's Talk About It

I don't talk about bedroom dates on this blog often. But I just need to vent to the interweb because I just watched the latest New Girl and Awkward and I feel like I'm being mocked. 
I'm not having bedroom dates with my boyfriend right now. Because the universe works in funny, annoying ways, both of us have surgeries in the next month. 

All will be fine, they're just standard surgeries that took us both my surprise. He found out about his earlier this year and we realized that it was affecting more than just his calendar, it was affecting how he felt...in many different ways. We, as a couple, were all good and fine but his mojo was a little low. And now just as he's feeling better, because...again the universe has a very cruel, ill timed sense of humor, my mojo isn't all there. 

So after watching the latest episodes of my two favorite shows oozing with bedroom date plots, I'm frustrated and mad. It's an emotional and physical battle I'm having with myself because I miss bedroom dates...like a lot. And yet all I want to do is cuddle and yet, totally tired of cuddling and holding hands and reading cosmo.com for inspiration.  

A part of me wants to stop thinking and just get back into the swing of things again...but another part knows I'm just going to be in my head too much thinking about the upcoming weeks. We're both communicating really well about how we're feeling and doctor updates...and all that yadda yadda, but I can't express how annoying it is when life gets in the way of (bedroom) dating.  

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

A funny thing happens as you grow into your late 20s- suddenly there's less people to blame for things that you do- the over drinking, the over sleeping, the over eating, the missing doctors appointments, the missing train departures, the missing birthdays...I'm sure you know the list.

Then, if a friendship slowly fades it might not be someone else's fault. You may have to look back and remember what you could've done to be a better friend but simply didn't.
The reason of why may be clear or completely blurry at the time.

I'm not sure which kind of relationship is hard in your 20s- that with a male or female?

Recently I'm thinking the friendship between female besties is the most challenging.

There's been numerous articles and books about female friendships- how they change as you get older, how to maintain them while you have a boyfriend/husband, and especially

how some end.

I'm a firm believer that who ever you meet teaches you something about yourself whether you know that lesson at that moment or not.

I love that saying about how some people are meant to be a cameo in your life, others stay for a season and others are lifers. As I get older I realize that it's easier to accept the differences between different friendships with that in mind. But it's still hard to figure out why some people end up being you friends 'forever' while others are just seasonal.

And then it gets confusing like what if a lifer turns into more of a cameo? It feels like a relationship going backwards, Benjamin Button style. We'd like to think most friendships start quick and last a long time but what if the long friendship suddenly feels like a one night stand that you just both want to wiggle away from? 

What if the idea of having 1 more meal with your bestie makes your toes curl? 

I'm currently going through this now with a friend of mine and today I emailed her to acknowledge it. She's been one of my closest friends for over 3 years and one of the first non-work, non-college friends I made. She was my city friend.

A partner in high heels, and boy drama and late nights. A friend at book club and brunch and friday night temple. Someone to call to just say hi. An already assumed 'yes' on the RSVP list.

In the email, I explained I started distancing myself because I'm not sure how to be her friend anymore.
I wish friendships were easier like they seemed to be just a few years ago, when you were there for your friends no matter what.

It's painful to wake up one morning and realize you aren't sure what to say to your best friend because you don't think she's listening anymore. She stopped telling you her secrets so you close up your end. It's like one day we started speaking different languages that we didn't have the energy to interpret.

We had lunch a few months ago and everything I said seemed to be not what she wanted to hear. She didn't like that I didn't like this season of Girls, that I didn't know a fashion designer she was wearing, that I was asked questions about her office politics. She didn't want to talk about her boyfriend or her family. I didn't pry and she didn't open open.
Maybe we outgrew each other at some point in the last year in between book club and brunches.

Maybe we just don't need each other now but will some other time.
I don't expect her to reply to my email because I think she knows that our friendship has already taken a backseat. Though the parts of where exactly our friendship went are gray, I feel a little better now knowing that the ending is in black and white whether she wants to read it or not.

Hang over

I have a drunk alter ego named Sloane. My old guy roommate named her back in 2009. I think I came up with her to distance myself from any bad behavior that may have occurred- which could range from bad food eaten or bad make out decisions (when I was single). 

In the last year I’ve accepted that I need to start being accountable for my actions when I drink- which is a couple times a week. In 1 night I drink anywhere between 2 drinks to over 7. If I’m in the latter category that’s when I tend to become more Sloane-like and have more of a 'carpe-diem who needs sleep' kind of attitude.  

With the removal of the alter ego recently, I’ve had to come to terms with my behavior when I drink and accept that it’s just me. I’ve also developed a heavy hand of next day guilt when I do drink in excess. I never had this when I was younger. 

I found a neat phrase for it ‘emotional hangover’. 

It explains why I ignore calls from my mother and sometimes friends after a big night out as I put myself back together. It was actually comforting researching this on the internet because for awhile I thought it was just me feeling this way.

I’ve evolved as a drinker- in a good way but mostly a bad way. I was never into drunk calling but now (I blame technology) I’ve become a drunk texter. And with the help of seamlessweb I have a habit of drunk ordering/eating. A habit that I try not to do since it’s a quick and easy way to gain weight. 

The weirdest drunk craving I had was sushi and a banana split. There should really be some kind of blocking device on seamless if it’s after 1am and certain items are picked. 

But like I said, I’ve become a drunk texter in the past few months and for my unlucky boyfriend that means drunk conversations with him. There’s been two really bad, confusing text conversations where I don’t tell him I’m drunk, continue the conversation and end up reading something he wrote the wrong way and getting mad at him.

The most recent interaction was last night and even though he dropped in smiley/winkey faces and used the words ‘kidding, I called him an ass and told him he was unsupportive. It’s really not worth repeating the conversation because it honestly made such little sense overall and made me look so crazy, I’d rather forget it. 

My emotional hangover today mostly consisted of dealing with the embarrassment of that and the guilt of calling out sick to work because my stomach was so messed up from all the stupid bad food I ate. It wasn’t what you’d call- a good day.

I texted him this morning and apologized and got a ‘No problem’ from him in return. 

I wish it came with a smiley face, but it didn’t. 

As I mentioned, my recent drunk behavior bothers me. And with this latest text snafu, I really need to take a look at where this hidden anger is coming from. 

I don’t have any sober reason to be mad at him, but recently when I’ve been drinking I get more sensitive. Sure I can blame the margaritas but I’m a firm believer that drinking is pretty much a truth serum. Also, it could have nothing to do with him. He’s just a victim of being at the top of my text message list.

Either way I need to figure it out because obviously, the quickest way for a guy to start running is turning into crazy girl when there’s a couple (ahem, several) drinks involved. 

Like Felicity said ‘Relationships are hard.’

I was sitting on my bed and holding a fuzzy pillow and staring at my phone. 

I was drinking water, trying to find my voice again. Sentences went around and around in my head. 

Twenty minutes ago I had a 3 minute conversation with the boyfriend/old ex-boyfriend. 

I had called 4 of my girlfriends and patiently waited for them to call me back. I needed a sounding board.

It was already past 11 on Monday night. I didn’t look forward to trying to sleep tonight.

The sentences turned around and around in my head. I started to wonder if my own voice was ever going to come back.

Three years ago, I would’ve continued to have a loopy one-sided conversation for days. Three years ago, my heart would’ve continued to race and sweat until I got dizzy. Three years ago, I would’ve taken an Ativan and turned off my phone. 

And then I realized 1 thing. I didn’t need to have a 1 sided conversation anymore. I didn't need to play how/what/why with my girlfriends for hours. This isn’t three years ago. Three years ago has got to stay in three years ago. 

My hand became steady and I exhaled. I called him back. I said the words as they came to me. I started with ‘I’m stuck in my head and need to talk it out.’

I’m horrible at these conversations. I’m horrible with being honest about my feelings about things that bother me. I’m used to just dealing with bad outcomes rather than working through a problem. 

We’re in the same boat right now. And it’s terrifying and eye opening and heart breaking and heart mending at the same time. 

Friday night we had a five hour long date and were the last ones in the restaurant. It was pretty damn great.  

At one point during the night, the topic turned sideways. He said the following ‘Can I tell you about something I’ve been discussing with my therapist?’

And he opened up. Three years ago this wouldn’t have happened. 

We would’ve kept dancing politely around each other, desperately trying to not rock the boat. And three years ago, though we were both unhappy with ourselves and each other, we didn’t speak up until there was nothing left to the relationship. 

After he was done talking and I was done listening, he exhaled and ended with 'That was really hard for me to say.'  

I'm not going to go into details on what he shared with me but overall nothing he said was totally new information to me. We had already discussed the top of the iceberg of what was going on and now was the harder part, the murky, hidden parts below the surface. 

We spent the weekend together and had a great time. We were social as a couple and then had lazy time. We started making plans for the week when he drove me to the train. Tonight, while on the phone something he said bothered me. I hurriedly got off the phone.

Then twenty minutes later I called him back. And explained my confusion and asked for more answers and asked him to tell me how he was feeling. 

Three years ago, this wouldn't have happened. I’m not saying we’ve had a break through but tonight I realized that some time in the last 8 months with him, I decided to become an adult. And realized that decision isn’t exactly an uphill battle or roller coaster, but more like the tea cup ride at DisneyLand.

There are times where you’re both spinning the wheel in the same direction and the dizziness puts you both in a high, and then there are times -whether you realize it or not- you're taking turns pulling the wheel in the opposite direction so you both slow down to sort out what's going on. 

We're in the pull part right now. And like I said, it's challenging but that's also why I have multiple fluffy pillows on my bed.

The Feb 14th

I don't understand Valentine's Day. I appreciate the rom-com movie marathons that take over cable television and the Empire State Building sparkling in red and pink, but I still don't get it.

I liked getting Valentine's Day cards dropped in my desk mailbox in elementary school. And feeling that swell of self-accomplishment at the end of the day if my crush had dropped one off. 

In middle school I'd just buy red and pink M&Ms for my best girlfriends and skip the cards.

In high school, while I was away at boarding school, my mother would always send me a card and my brother would send me carnations. And I watched rom-com marathons. 

In college through my early twenties I would typically just go out with girlfriends and have an unofficial anti-Valentines Day by getting drunk and not actually acknowledging the holiday. 

Then...I had this Valentines Day.

After that I turned Valentines Day back into February 14th. 

Now as you know I'm back with the ex again. And things are good. We both have things we need to work on and certain hurdles to get through. 

Especially with his 37th birthday coming up next month and him coming to terms with getting older. I have a feeling he'll want to down play/not celebrate at all but I'm sure we'll acknowledge it in some way. Considering I celebrate my birthday for a week at least, he can't really get away with not celebrating his. 

So about Valentines Day. I've already gotten a few confused reactions from friends when I told them my plans...what I ended up doing was buying a handful of tickets to a 9pm comedy show. It was a spontaneous decision I made last week not knowing if the boyfriend is going to be working late or not, I was determined to at least have plans. 

I told him about the tickets today as he mentioned his schedule is going to be crazy this week. I realized now I should've perhaps explained my thought process and at least acknowledged the holiday. 

But really, I didn't. I made it simple to not stir up old memories for me. I cooly explained if he wasn't working late I have an extra ticket for him. 

This was my way of taking charge and saying we don't need any extra pressure right now- especially to make fancy weekday dinner reservations somewhere when both of our work schedules are unpredictable. 

If we want to do a nice dinner, let's plan it during a day that makes sense for both of us. 

I didn't actually get into the whole take charge part and didn't realize I was avoiding the holiday till I was on my way back to my apartment. 

I don't need a shrink-a-dink to tell me why I'm avoiding the holiday...I don't want to be disappointed like I was a couple years ago. Plain and simple. 

So I'm making plans that make sense. And yes, of course, I will take advantage of this silly heart holiday and probably get some new lingerie that I needed anyway. 

I realize I end up wearing his boxers and tshirts to bed more and more and it wouldn't kill me to buy some lace and silk. 

Though let's face it, I've read enough Cosmo to know that men don't really care what a girl wears to bed as long as it comes off easily. 

19 Scarves

I own 19 scarves. 

I probably wear the same 2 or 3 a season and yet I own 19. It’s really amazingly unnecessary. I’m going through a bit of a purge right now. I call it the Bed Bug Purge. (I won’t get into it but there’s a reason why I haven’t posted yet this year and why I know I own 19 scarves.)

SO recently, I’ve been taking a look at everything...from the food I eat, the friends I keep and the things that fill my drawers. I’ve moved 5 times in 6 years. I don’t know why it’s taken me this long, but I’m finally looking at what I’ve been carrying all these years.

When I was 17 I bought my first sexy bra from Victoria’s Secrets. My best friend helped pick it out. It was the first bra that didn’t come from my mother. Even though the red lace was overpriced and padded, I thought it was the greatest thing I had ever purchased. I don’t know how many lucky gentlemen got to see that bra, but considering I didn’t actually cash in my V-Card till I was 19, probably not that many. But it made me feel great when I wore it.

My body has changed a lot since I was 17 and the bra has been 2 cup sizes too small for about 7 years and yet, I’ve been carrying it with me. It’s sat in my drawer like an unmatched lost earring. (also, addicting space wasters)

I took one last look at this weekend and then threw it out. I really don’t know why I hung on to it for so long. I mean, I’m a sentimental gal but I’m not that thoughtful. Maybe a part of me thought one day my body would shrink back down to 17 years old? Maybe I thought it was a symbol of my young adult years? But I’m not sure. Most of those years I’d rather gloss over anyway.

I’ve been happy with who I am for awhile now. When I turned 28 in December my esteem swelled and I realized a very simple fact that nobody could’ve convinced me of when I was 17, I’m only going to get better with age. So why do I hang on to these things still? These things aren’t timeless valuables...

Socks with holes in them, or socks that look like a muppet’s ass?  Or shirts that just don’t fit right? I guess it’s for the same reason why we hang on to friends even when they don’t return our calls or texts for months? Or why we stay in jobs that make us miserable? Or why we leave the dirty dishes in the sink overnight? Because it’s easy. Leaving things as is, is the easiest thing in the world to do because it’s not doing anything.

How is it that we are the busiest, most connected people...ever, but when it comes time to confront anything – big or small- it’s the hardest thing in the world? I guess it’s my 1 real resolution this year. Confrontation.

Emailing the friend whose been ignoring me for months and asking for an explanation. Telling him I’m hurt. Signing up for a cooking class. Okay I haven’t done that one yet, but it’s on the list. And the biggest thing, dumping extra baggage. Getting rid of over a dozen scarves that haven’t hung on my neck in years. It’s like that lacey bra...just because it’s pretty doesn’t mean it needs to take up space. I mean if I thought it was that important, I’d fucking frame it. Besides, I’m a woman who will learn to cook this year...I don’t need to hang on to a lacey bra that doesn’t fit just because it cost more than $30 eleven years ago.