So, it's been a while....whoops

Not that anyone has been particularly impacted in a negative way by my radio silence but, hey there. Okay, so I tend to get super private when I'm stressed, which I was when I first moved as I was trying to adjust, find a job, keep my job, etc. Then all that worked out fine and I now have a great job that affords no down time at all and a life that is getting full up pretty fast and then approximately 1,274 house guests et voila. No blogging mojo.

BUT things are going great. There has been the occasional snafu, such as having my car totaled and the months of financial toilet flushing that produced but the long and short is I live in a cute apartment with a great roommate and I go to the beach every week and spend the rest of my time at a job I enjoy. My dog is perpetually in obedience school, which is hilarious and very necessary as the freedom and excitement provided by the dog park and the dog beach have caused her to lose her tiny, walnut sized mind.

I was super pumped about this starfish, yo

I miss Arkansas exactly as much as I expected which is quite a lot. I miss my friends and I miss my family and my God do I miss the country. San Diego is a lovely, clean, smog free city but it is crowded and I miss being able to drive for five minutes and be in the lush, Arkansas mountains. But this is where I need to be, no doubt.  In the four months I've been here, I've gone to more concerts, events, bars and parties than I would have in a year back in Little Rock. I was not able to do that for myself back home, for reasons too complicated and personal to bore you with in this venue but reasons that did not have as much to do with Arkansas as myself. But I am finally thriving and feeling more myself.  God, finally....

My sinuses are filled with cardboard

Alright, two weeks left. I will be on my my way in two weeks. I'm sure many of you have had the pleasure of watching me whine via Facebook and also the real world that my work announced they were shutting down the office about a week after I quit. (BTW, don't worry, internet is already set up out there so whining won't ever stop! You're welcome!)  I suspect it was an ingenious ploy to block me from getting unemployment. As a result, I've spent the past three weeks breaking down an entire office and emptying it out by myself. My soul really wanted to tell what to do with that idea but I need the reference and I firmly believe it's a learning experience that will make for good stories in job interviews. HEY look what I will put up with if you pay me! On the job front, I am applying, applying, applying. I've started freelance writing in every spare second I've got as well. I was trying to think of something to bring in money while I'm job searching and this is a natural fit. I'm an amazing bullshitter. It's not a skill useful in day to day life but I write very very fast and I can make things sound much smarter than they actually are. Have already made a few hundred dollars just doing it a few hours a night. I continue to receive the amazing advice mentioned in my previous post but I've perfected my "Are you shitting me?" stare in response. A few measured seconds of silence until they are uncomfortable and then I sweep off like a majestic creature. Like a dragon or something. A dragon of job hunting. Work ends in two days and I'm already booked with every possible specialist I can think of to thoroughly abuse my last remaining weeks of health insurance. My parents continue to rock out and be unfailingly supportive. Got to spend time with my sister and Masumi. Went to Mary Price's wedding and saw a lot of people I love very much but don't see anymore. Cramming a lot of life into this last month.

Now I've just got to get out there and start filling this one up

Wah WAAAAAAHHH

 

Can someone please explain to me the impulse that people have to offer advice where none has been requested? OR, specifically, to remind you of everything that could go wrong. Ever? It's amazing to me the number of people who have offered me the following advice about my move to San Diego. 

• It's very expensive out there
• There are literally no jobs. None
• Everyone is an asshat
• I will only like it for a year, and then I'll come home. No question.
• My savings will run out. Immediately. For some reason. I guess I'll spend wildly on like, sushi and small dogs.

Why? Am I some sort of overgrown child? Have I really not considered these things? Have I not planned this move, carefully and meticulously for a year now? It's like this in so many arenas, though. For example: My weight. I have weight to lose. I have serious weight to lose. You know what's not helpful? Reminders of how much weight I have to lose. And how impossible it is to lose it once I hit 30. And how it'll get harder and harder each year I grow old. A slow, fat march toward being unloved and then I die. Alone. And fat. And let's not even get started on my career track. Now that one I do to myself, to some degree. It's like you hit 30 and suddenly have to do a massive evaluation of your life and all the ways it has been found wanting.

But people LOVE this stuff. And people buy into it. And stay frozen in fear, living some life they didn't actually want. Maybe I won't find a job right away. Maybe I'll end up as an incredibly over educated barista offering you $10 frappucinos. But at least I'm TRYING.

So, in conclusion, think what you want. But unless I'm doing something clearly ill-advised like cliff diving or trying out for a band, offer me nothing but well wishes, for God's sake.

A Fresh Start. Fresh. Like a lemon.

Okay, first of all. How do I still own so much crap? No really...how?

Wait, okay that isn't even the root of it. It's more, will there ever come a time when the fantasy version of who I am and the life I lead actually lines up with what the hell is actually occurring.

In my fantasy, I live this chic, minimalist existence. I have crisp, white sheets, minimal black furniture in clean lines, a few select pieces of art on the wall. My floors are mopped on a regular basis and my clothes are on hangers. But not wire hangers. Oh no.

It basically looks like this

And every time I move, I swear to God I unload so much crap. So where did all this stuff come from. Is my crap reproducing? Is my crap getting more action than I am (this would not be difficult)? I can't help myself. I love books and art and little tchochkes that I collect and pictures and I'm lazy and there's dog hair all over my white sheets all the time and my clean clothes are precariously balanced on my underutilized elliptical machine. And basically my room (and my life) actually looks like this.

Boo

But, you see, it's all going to be different this time. Somehow, I'm going to move to California and eat lots of avocados and go to farmer's markets and cook....things and flounce around in cotton dresses (because I will have automatically lost 20lbs breathing in the salty air) and walk my dog regularly (she will also stop shedding, somehow) and I don't know. Everything will also smell like lemons. Because I equate clean things with smelling like lemons. So every weekend I've been hauling the detritus of my old self to Goodwill and the dumpster, because this time will be different. So different. I will wake up early and walk my dog (because I won't have a backyard to lazily throw her in) and then I will come back and make like...juice protein shakes (must purchase and learn to use blender) and then I'll shower and not go to work with wet hair (must obtain job) and after work I will breeze to my yoga/dance/surfing lesson and arrive home ready to cook something with like, quinoa. And then I will walk my dog again (who no longer sheds) and read a book (as opposed to watching Hills marathons) and fall asleep on my crisp, white sheets. 

It's going to be JUST LIKE THAT.

Lowered Expectations?

All this preparation for my move has forced some reevaluations of how I live my life. Or is that just what happens when 30 is looming like Spectre of Things You Have Not Done on the horizon?

Anyhoodle. I have always been kind of tough on myself. But I think that's because I've never had any REASON to expect people to feel sorry for me or go easy on me. Unless I blame the loving parents, the upper middle class background, the supportive extended family and the relative ease I had with school and learning. And blame I do. Damn them all. But then I sort of....relaxed my expectations a bit. Or more like, I knew what I SHOULD have been doing but couldn't summon the energy. I've had some very difficult and painful health problems the last few years. The kind where you can barely get through work and come home and collapse. But really? So many people have those issues. And children to take care of. It's just me and I've made it just me for a long time on purpose. Because I had nothing to offer a boyfriend and didn't want them having to take care of me. Well, that and I sort of dislike having to deal with anyone on a daily basis. I could barely feed my guinea pigs every day. I let my finances become a mess despite my parents' generous help and didn't do my health any favors by gaining weight.

I'm trying to lighten up on myself. Not care that I still can't cook, clean, sew, be nice for long stretches of time, stop eating so much chocolate, afford to buy a house, afford to buy anything, do my hair, put makeup on every day, that I'm sort of lazy and self-centered, and that I still don't give two craps about marriage or babies. Unless it's other people. I want everyone to have babies.

I must admit that it annoys me it took me years to get back on track. To be a good friend again, to exercise and eat healthy (sort of), to hit the ground running with my career. And now that I feel I'm finally becoming a productive member of society again, I'm leaving! Ha. Suckers. You had to deal with me for the past 3 years and now I'm leaving you with only the memory of me kind of being a semi-useless slugs. Consider this my formal apology. I also find it ironic that only now am I really fully appreciating where I live and am busy to the max. Working two jobs, volunteering, taking four dance classes a week. I'm going to miss this place.

Proactive...the state of being, not the zit medicine

I've been largely silent on this thing, mainly because I've been busy and because it seems lately my loved ones are being cosmically dumped upon, and there's no real way to make any of it funny. It seemed uncouth to be blabbing about the day to day ridiculousness of being me when people are losing loved ones left and right. It's just been a long string of deaths and tragedies for friends and family so I've been keeping my head down.

Well, sort of. Clearly I'm still vomiting up stupid stuff on Facebook.

Anyway, here's a cute picture of my dog.

Aside from just trying to be a good friend and take care of me and mine, I've been going into Proactive mode. I leave in six months, give or take to move to California. This decision makes absolutely no practical or financial sense but I'm doing it. If I don't do it now, I don't think it'll ever happen. I love my life, my friends, and my family and that's what has kept me here for so long. But I need to see something new when I look out my window. And I've got friends there, already. I'm just trying to make myself as valuable a job seeker and as sane a person as I can before I leave.

I'm studying hard for this God awful test to get my Professional HR Certification before I leave, I've been saving every dime I can since last year so I can get by for a while until I find a job. I'm getting twice weekly allergy shots so I can move in with a friend in San Diego as opposed to affording a place on my own (she has cats). I'm working two jobs and as soon as dance is over for the year, I'll be picking up more tutoring clients for the summer. I'm sucking my free health and dental care dry trying to take care of everything I can think of. Gave away my guinea pigs to some lovely people as I can't take them with me. Downsizing my STUFF. Making a better effort to spend time with the people I won't be able to see on a regular basis.

See? None of that was funny. Sorry, y'all.

On Valentine's Day

 Am I the only single person who adores Valentine's Day?

Now, granted part of this is just me. My favorite colors are red and pink and I LOVE anything heart-shaped. I am an obnoxious person, I know. Plus, chocolate. It's basically like someone made me my own holiday.

But I also love, Love. And I don't understand begrudging other people who are in love. What a wonderful thing! And the whole Single-Awareness Day thing? This is insulting for a few reasons. First, I'm fairly certain I'm not in some delusion that I have a boyfriend all the other days of the year. And second, why would I not want to be aware of that? Single isn't a default state on the road to Coupled Up. For me, it's kind of a choice. I'm happier single. I actively avoid meeting someone to date, I admit it. If a guy comes along who is special enough, I'm willing to give it a go but I'm just one of those people who likes being alone. But that's just me. Some people aren't shrewish ice queens and actually enjoy the company of others. And that's awesome. And I'm happy for people who have found someone to make them smile and who they can love. It's a hard, lonely world out there sometimes and having someone you love is a gift.

Also, the greeting card holiday thing? Who cares? No one makes gestures, anymore. A friend and I the other day were talking and she summed it up, there's no real ceremony in life.. If you feel like buying a little, thoughtful something for your loved one's is a massive burden that you're being pressured into, I think something's wrong with your relationship. Sorry to say.  It's great if you show each other love ever day, but why not make a romantic gesture? A little effort goes a long way.

And in that spirit, a Happy Valentine's Day to my Coupled Up friends and my Single friends and my friends who would rather have no label at all. I for one feel almost guilty for the amount of love I have in my life. I've truly got the best friends and family a person could hope for.