Eye of the Storm

The cliche saying "it always gets worse before it gets better" holds true. My "life cleanup" isn't following the fairy tale process that I had imagined, but it is at continuing at a steady speed. Unfortunately, although the speed IS steady, it's at the pace of a snail. I know that major life changes do not come easily or quickly, and they take effort and willpower, but it's frustrating to get little to no payback proving that what I'm doing is working. Only time will tell (I'm chock full of cliches today!).

The issue that's been plaguing me is the age old question "what do I want to be when I grow up?" I think I need to draw the line between what I want to do, and what will actually be a profitable career. I am not interested in making bucketloads of money, and I will not get a degree in something that does not interest me, but it seems fairly unrealistic to think that I will be able to support myself by writing poems and memoirs that potentially might not ever be published. I am leaning toward substance abuse counseling, mostly because I would love to help people fight their inner demons and discover a light in all the dark. Also, a career in that field would make for interesting stories to write, therefore bridging the gap between both job and passion. I have a lot of money to make and a lot of money to save before that can happen, but the point is, it CAN happen. I'll just have to pry open that can of elbow grease.

Back Here, Baby

The decision that my fate rested in has finally been made-it's back to LBT for me. I'm beyond excited to be moving back to the first apartment I ever rented. So much of my life happened in the year and a half that Sam and I lived there...I dated a guy I didn't love in an attempt to get over one that I did, I got a job that taught me more about life and myself in six months than I'd learned in 20 years, I had a traumatic experience with someone that I thought meant something in my life, I got fired, and then everything crashed and burned. It was a strange time, January 2008-June 2009. And although I haven no interest in crazy partying anymore, it definitely was the foundation to quasi-alcoholism: a good portion of that time period was spent in a drunken coma (or in the inescapable hangover that followed)....a fair number of parties were hosted, and I'm sure that there were plenty of brown patches on the grass around the porch (stomach acid does that, I hear). But there was something "homey" about the place, and even though it never felt like "home" per se, it was pretty damn close. It's going to be strange to be living there without my sister, because I feel like that place is representative of both her and I together, not separate. I was never used to being alone until this past year at Grassy Plain, and it's a strange feeling to come home and not expect anyone else to be there. But this is going to be different-I'm no longer going to feel like I'm living in a hotel, in a place where I don't belong. I'm finally going to feel like I can be at peace. And peace, apparently, only costs $400-per-month.

Overnight Celebrity

In a culture that is obsessed with celebrities, it's not hard to see why the pursuit of physical perfection is so prevelant (how's that for alliteration!). All cultures have standards of beauty, and none of them exactly mirror another, but America's standards are chock-full of contradiction. Big breasted hourglass figures are supposedly the most sought after, but the vast majority of models are pin thin with chests that rival that of a 6th grade boy. And there is nothing wrong with that (as long as this body type is natural and not the effect of starvation or disordered eating), but it does send mixed signals to the impressionable females of the younger generation. Not enough is being done to promote healthy body image. Instead, we're all trying to look like famous people-an elite group that is fortunate enough to be able to afford weekly facials, massages, waxes, dyejobs, boobjobs, manicures, pedicures, botox, bleachings, and other enhancing procedures. Celebrities make their money based on their appearance, and they understandably want to stall the aging process in order to continue to be relevant in an industry where youth is everything. But those of us whose incomes do not depend on our lack of wrinkles don't have to subject ourselves to such procedures, we do it as a result of sheer vanity. The amusing (or not so amusing, depending on how you interpret it) thing is, the vast majority of our country is overweight. Meaning, we're a country of fat people who covet the looks of slim people who can afford to keep up their youthful appearances. We're obsessed with this idea of perfection, but not interested in putting in the work to attain it. We want to join prestigious gyms, but not actually go to them. We want to eat a supersize BigMac meal a few times a week, but are baffled by the fact that we aren't getting any thinner. We spent millions of dollars a year on diet pills that we should KNOW do not work, because if they did, no one would be fat. Women spend thousands of dollars a year to change their hair color, buy makeup to cover their skin, enhance their eyes, contour their cheeks, plump their lips. But going too far has disasterous results. We've all seen the 40-something woman walking through the mall wearing what seems like her teenage daughter's skinny jeans and Ugg boots, while carrying a Mochaccino and texting on her iPhone. And what do we do when we see this? Fall over each other to admire her beauty? No. Usually, we snigger as she walks by, because in her attempt to turn back the clock, she has actually made herself stand out as someone who is, well, attempting to turn back the clock. There's a fine line between looking youthful and vital and trying too hard. Perhaps it's time to start teaching the youth that exercise and eating right should be the foundation for a healthy and beautiful body, and that it isn't always necessary to smother ourselves with products that drastically alter our appearance. We don't all need to look famous. We need to look like ourselves. We just need to be willing to put in the work to make it the best version of ourselves we can be-without the nips and tucks.

Rest Assured

You know the feeling when everything boils down to one person's decision, and you have no control over it? It's like being stuck on the edge of a cliff, waiting to see if the wind is going to push you over or pull you to safety. Right now, I've been presented with two opportunities, and one of them is much less appealing than the other. Obviously, I'd like to walk away with the more desirable of the two, but it all hangs in the balance of someone else's decision. I desperately need to save money, and I can do with both options, but I'd also love to keep my privacy and sanity. Waiting around for an answer is probably the most frustrating thing in the world. I don't know how to go about planning for something if I'm not sure what that something is yet. Either way, I need to ditch my old attitude and assume a new one...hopefully I find out what that is soon enough...

I-Can't-Get-No...Sat-is-fac-tion

Because of my extensive amounts of "free time" at work (and a severe BlackBerry addiction), I stumbled upon the film "Peach Plum Pear," and was immediately struck with the desire to see it. Doing a little research, I found that the film was made by three women, which is promising in itself, but when I saw the bio's on the director, producer, and writer, my jaw dropped. The director is the oldest of the three, and she's 26, the other two being 23 years old. It got me thinking seriously about where I am in life, and my dissatisfaction with it. I could blame it on my childhood, my parents, my lack of financial resources, but it basically boils down to the fact that I just don't have the desire to BECOME anything. I grew up thinking I wanted to be a teacher, and basically flushed thousands of dollars down the toilet because after 3 years of paying for school, I realized I'd just been repeating my 8 year old dream for over 10 years and not ACTUALLY thinking about whether I wanted to attain that goal anymore. So now what? What do I want to be? Financially secure comes to mind, but how do I get there without a "dream job" in place? I don't have any skills, unless making little kids laugh and cleaning dirty diapers counts. I love my job(s) as a nanny, I really do, but it's not fulfilling and it has no room for advancement. I want a job that lights a fire in me, and the ability to keep stirring the coals over the years instead of dreading the day where I'm so burnt out that I can't even say "do you want fries with that?" Once my goal of being debt free is met (hopefully, but unrealistically, by December 31), I hope to be able to explore what makes me feel whole and attempt to make a career out of it. I'm sick of living a half-life.

Closing Time

It's March 1st, and the lease on my apartment is up at the end of the month. I am beyond excited to leave. Of course, there have been great times at LBT^2, but I came into it during turmoil and the negativity stayed. It was almost tangible. It never felt like "home" to me, but then again, no place ever has (thanks for the nomad lifestyle, dad). Instead, I felt like it was a 'crash pad,' which I suppose it was most of the time. LBT^2 housed 2 different friends when they needed a place to go, on top of the countless slumber parties where people were too drunk to leave and I was too drunk to care. But at the end of every day, when I walk through the door, there is no sense of relief, no sense of belonging (story of my life). There's something light and open about this new place, and I can't wait to call it home. It's cheaper, nicer (in my opinion, which in this case is the only one that
matters), close to my gym and closer to my best friend, and far enough away from the negativity that has plagued me for quite some time now. It's month to month, so I have no permanent ties, which is good for someone like me who is constantly drifting through life with no definite purpose. The point, of course, is to pay down my bills so I CAN have a purpose, or at least work toward one. Overall, I feel like I've been poisoned and am now finally starting to suck it all out of me. I just hope I don't spit it in anyone else's direction.