The Scary Age

I'm 29, one year past my scary age birthday.

I am usually really big on birthdays. Especially my own birthday (naturally). I believe they should be celebrated (extensively) and that there is never too much pampering in a birthday month.

But last year was different (even 29 was different) as I had probably no less than 8-10 really solid anxiety attacks and swings of depression as my birthday loomed.

Your scary age is that year that you benchmark your life against. It is the year that you used as a deadline to say "I will have these things going in my life by X year". It is that year where you were supposed to feel like you had it all together. It is the year that was realistic when you realized the 25 wasn't. It is the year to feel like you are launching into to the part of your life that all those moments have been leading up to.

What makes it scary...is when that year comes knocking on your door and you are no where near all those great things you thought would be in your life. In fact...you are further away, more confused, and lost than you ever imagined. 

Ok...so maybe this is just me. 

I didn't want to turn 28 (let alone 29) without the items that I so desperately wanted at this point in my life. 

It seems silly to feel this way. It is just an age. A number really.

Except that it is so close to 30 (and please, let's not even get on that train of thought!). I just feel like I've done something wrong. Like how did I end up in my late twenties and I am that girl. The girl who is itching to be married, who is seriously worried she is going to be too old to have kids, who doesn't even think she will be able to afford a new car, or a house, or even just clothes that don't come from Old Navy or Target!

I slowly see that door creeping closed. That one that through it you can see this life you thought you were going to have. I feel like I am mourning that door closing before my eyes.

I know another view of life will take shape and it will be exactly what my life is supposed to look like- but it the bidding farewell to a life I thought was mine and introducing myself to a life I didn't ever imagine.

So yea, holy drama...I know I know. I'm young. I'll have kids, I'll get married, I'll buy a new used car, and someday I won't live in an apartment. I know it will all happen, or at least the parts that are supposed to happen.

I'm doing my best to just live it. Make the changes I can to get the things I want, and then just shrug and know that the rest of it is out of my control.

Ruining the Moment- Put Down Your Phone

Here I am. Back up on my soap box of the-world-needs-more-human-interaction-and-less-time-where-we-sit-next-to-each-other-playing-iphone. Yes...another one of those posts.

Just like my rational disdain for aspects of DC (or all of DC...) I kid. Wait. No, no I don't kid- I hate DC. I have a truly massive issue with the amount of time people are glued to their phones. PARTICULARLY when it means you are sacrificing quality time with moi to be tied up in some app or article you are reading.

My first real rant on this was prompted after reading Jenni's words from Story of My Life. I was hell bent determined to be a focused, thoughtful, and present friend/girlfriend/daughter/sister/etc. and make sure I wasn't making someone feel inadequate by keeping one hand on my phone at all times. Granted, I have my phases of addiction, but I feel like I have made a concerted effort to be present. To engage. To concentrate on making my company feel valued.

So what do you do when the favor isn't returned? I have heard all sorts of suggestions:

- Walk away from the situation until they realize they are bring rude.
- Have rules that you articulate clearly prior to hanging out/having dinner/shopping etc.
- Have certain "phone free" areas. (i.e. people can't use their phones in the living room, etc)

But none of these will make someone else prioritize giving you their undivided attention. So what do you doooo?

Even worse... what do you do when someone ruins a moment.

There you are. You just shared a joke. A hilarious moment together. A heartfelt conversation. Or took in the most breathtaking sunset.

Next thing you know. The joke is tweeted, the funny photo is posted on Facebook. The heartfelt conversation is brought to a premature end. And the sunset is on Instagram.

Moment Ruined. Buzz Kill.

It makes me livid. It makes me wonder why sharing that moment, or that joke, or whatever, isn't enough to just share it with me.

What do you do with these situations? They seem like near impossible situations to negotiate on, and frequently cause a lot of friction and tension. Is this is a if you can't beat em' join em' situation?

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Inevitably we all become a bit jaded to the idea that "anything is possible". Life kind of wears that out of you after awhile and while surprising things still happen, it takes something really incredible to make you believe again in the potential of "anything".

A tie for a gold medal at the Olympics. Not just any gold medal. The women's downhill.

Now I know my experience with skiing, racing and coaching makes this story speak to me in particular, but seriously, what are the odds?!?

Two women barreling downs a hill on two pieces of plastics, metal and wax, speeding around red and blue flags, with a million billion potentially different lines through each gate, and they cross the finish like with them same exact time. It is insane.

The skeptics like to point out that if the downhill was timed down to the 1000th of a second the tie wouldn't have happened. This article does a good job of pointing out why the FIS doesn't time down to the 1000th. Regardless of antique timing equipment- it happened. The same time on on a course where there is no way to duplicate results.

This is one of those stories that just reinforces my love of the Olympics. Anything can happen.

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The First Time I Quit

Before I found myself living in DC, I had a short stint of living (by short, I mean about three months) in Houston. The same boy that asked me to move to DC lived there after we met in college to do Teach For America. To lessen the amount of time that we would be in a long distance relationship, I move to Texas for the summer.

Needing a job, and thinking of something I could transition to Seattle once I returned for my last year of school, I sought out a job as a barista.

I lasted 12 days.

Not even 12 consecutive days.I had to go to Atlanta (I think?) for a sorority thing after my first 5 days.

Being a barista didn't come easy. No one really was training me. I read some note sheets and then was making frozen beverages and using the cash register like my life depended on it during lunch. I was frazzled, tired ( nothing like working the 5am shift!) and not sure I was cut out for coffee making mastery.

It was a humid, soupy hot morning. I drove to the cafe, walked up to the entrances. The glass doors where dripping with condensation from the humidity, it was disgusting. Already 90 degrees at five in the morning. I knocked, since I didn't have keys and the store didn't actually open until 5:30. No one came to open the door. I could hear music, but no one was visible. I knocked again. Just more music.

I got in my car and drove home.

I didn't go back. I didn't collect my paycheck for those 12 days of work until 5 years later.

It is one of the only things I think I truly just up and quit.

Now quitting has a broad spectrum of interpretation. Yes, I've "quit" jobs. But resigned would be the more accurate term in my head. I've "quit" relationships. But I would say ended is more telling. I've "quit" violin, and soccer. But not in the way I walked away from that coffee shop that summer morning.

Many years into young adulthood my mom shared with me that a very close family friend had said that I was a unique little kid. He had never seen someone so determine as I was when it came to things I wanted or loved. I was diligent, dedicated and outright stubborn. (Which I will humbly agree with).
I don't like to walk away from something I started. I hate the idea of quitting anything. Especially in the manner of how I quit that job as a barista.That experience probably made me even more stubborn. Even more dedicated to trying to make something work a million different ways before I say " done". It is not my nature to do anything less.

But when is this a fault? When do you let go? When do you have a 5-AM-I'm-Not-Sure-This-Barista-Thing-Is-Doing-It-For-Me moment? How do you recognize that it is ok to let go of things that don't work for you? Because it is ok to do that...right?

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Yogi Tea Wisdom

Growing Into Yourself

A strong wave of homesick nausea washed over me this evening as I was walking to the store to pick up a simple dinner for myself. Where it came from, I have no idea. Perhaps, I am still feeling the sadness of knowing my dog is gone (yup still cry when I think about Theo), or just am getting whittled down to a nub of emotion since I haven't been home in almost 9 months. Whatever it is. I am grateful to know I have a plane ticket home. Purchased. In sight. Soon. The trip is short, but I also know it will hopefully be one of many more trips home that I will be able to make after we get some things sorted out here in DC.

It isn't a secret that DC isn't my thing. I write about it a lot. From the weather and nasty girls to teeny tiny apartments and frustrating public transit and a whole host of other things in between, my lack of enthusiasm for DC is pretty readily available. 

A few weeks ago Ben and I (have I mentioned I do have a childhood friend who grew up with me in Idaho and lives like 5 blocks from me in DC!) took a long stroll through the neighborhood with a borrowed dog and just talked. For the first time, I finally was able to articulate what that feeling was about DC. While it comes off as dislike...what I really mean is DISCOMFORT. 

I am uncomfortable in DC. 

Not in a 'getting hit in the head with some one's bag on the bus' or 'it is hot as the Sahara dessert here' uncomfortable, but in a 'this city pushes you' uncomfortable. 

I've learned a lot about myself, about being a professional, about loving someone and being loved, about family and friends, and about life as a big kid. So DC has done me well. It has conditioned me. Run me through the paces. That growth, that pushing..it is good. It is empowering, but is also exhausting. Just like an medical issue, you can only be uncomfortable for so long before it is in your best interest to find what makes you comfortable. 

It is simple things like not having to be stressed about feeling like I might get ripped off, knowing a good tailor and dry cleaner, not having going to the grocery store being an ordeal, being close to nature (real nature), having the option to own a dog, own a car, own a house (and not go bankrupt in the process), and feeling like you aren't constantly having to fight tooth and nail to prove yourself. People here are accomplished. That pushes you. You work hard, you take certification classes and test, you read up on your industry, in a lot of ways, it makes you be the best professional you can be, because there is no other choice. The scary part....there are 9 million and 1 other people exactly like you in DC. Smart. Accomplished. Passionate. And competing for the jobs, promotions and recognition you are working for. Tiny pond with a bunch of sturgeon swimming around if you ask me. I'm not wishing for an easy road. Just one that is more....me. 

This all sounded a lot better on that long walk where Ben and I discussed these things. I might sound whiny, or weak, or entitled. None of which are my intention. DC is a great place to be youthful, curious and ambitious. All of these being traits and qualities I have embraced and will carry with me.  But I am ready for that change of pace.

It may seem weak to be searching for that sense of comfort. To scuttle on out of DC in search of some place that doesn't seem to push me in these uncomfortable ways. I've really struggled with that. I never want to look like I can't hack it, or that I am throwing in the towel. What I have learned, is me saying "this isn't the place for me"  and making plans to go somewhere that is the place for me--simply means I have a deep understanding, appreciation and love of my self. I am ok with this. I am at peace. I don't feel like I am giving up, or not strong enough to handle this. 

I know that I have become strong enough to be me. 

Shifts of Change

Window in Del Mar from our recent CA adventure

Change. Sometimes the drastic changes force and create the small changes. The ones you won't notice right away, but the ones that all put together in a string of subtelness, create a larger, more noticeable affect.

Today. Right now. Something feels different. A noticeable shift in my universe. It started around 4:30 today (yes I can even pinpoint a time when this started to shake out). Just barely there, a whisper of change. Perhaps the crisper fall air, or the quickening of the evenings. Quiet. A scent of something new, mixed with with the past of something familiar.

The world has been flushed with good. Honest. Real inspiration. Be it people, news or nature. It is shimmering with something refreshed. The bad is there. The negatives are there. But around 4:30 today, I was blind to that. Immune to the anxiety that has been sitting in the pit of my stomach. I only saw sunshine, relished in the fall weather, and felt my heart beat just a little more in rythem with my head for the first time in what feels like years.

I've been begging for change. Pleading with God. To the point of bargaining, which is so silly, but so human. I wanted to see something move, to budge, to shift.

Now, it is in motion. Turning, moving, changing. I feel it and I SEE it.

My invitation is there. Beckoning to take this change and to run with it. To pull it is fast and far as I possibly can, and not wait for anything or anybody to tell me if it is ok, or right. Just to do. To act. To create what I've been wanting to create.

All these little shifts I have felt are all little splinters fragmenting off from the bigger change. The one that I thing is glowing with change- I took a new job.

Perhaps a bit more about that new job later, but I've wanted to get that out there for awhile, since I am thrilled about this change and the specific opporunity. Tonight. Tonight, I am taking this evening to sit, quietly, and listen to my head and heart and just feel those little shifts. Enjoy them. Savor them. Knowing that this is all taking me somewhere. Physically, emotionally. I am going somewhere, and isn't that just the whole point of all of this? To go. To keep moving. To create. To define. To change.

 

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28 before 28

I can hardly type 28 without getting hives. I won't lie, the big Two Seven kind of scared me. I am still a little shook up about it.
I feel like there is no turning back at this point. Ya know what I mean? Kind of like, I have to make sure that the what's, who's, when's, where's, and why's are all making sense. And maybe I didn't feel like they really are ( oh who am I kidding, I know they aren't making sense.) So I got a little sick to my stomach about this latest birthday. Thanks to my family, boyfriend, and friends, I had an amazing actually birthday day, one of the best I can remember in a long time.
But my stomach is still knotted.
Some big things have happened recently, and I don't mean to be cryptic about it, but the 5Ws are blatantly not making sense these days.
I know only I can change that. What happened recently illustrates that point so well, it felt almost like the universe giving me a nice slap across my face to wake me up. What I've known all along is that I have to be ready and acting on the desire to have change. No one else can do that for me.
So I usually try to do by age by age goal list every year. Last years didn't even get finished being put together, but I did check some items off. I've certainly had some better years, ........ Doing these lists.
This year I thought it better to not focus on 28 specific things I think will help me grow, experience more, and have a rich life, but to look at the big picture. Get my 5Ws out in the front, and made to be what I want.
I want to make the changes this year that I know will let me live the life I want.
There isn't a magic answer to this, or even a game plan, but I want to think of this year as a time to focus on how I can accomplish the changes I wish to see in my life.
I want to free myself up from the worry, anxiety and doubt that I have with doing any drastic. I want to make bold decisions. No matter how scary, seemingly "risky", or unpopular they are. If it helps me figure out my Where's, why's and such, the I want to think about it and make decisions.
I don't have the answer of what I want my life to specifically look like, but I crave change, I need changes, and I think I know some of the changes I need. I want to make those decisions. I want to turn 28 next year and know that I did this year thinking about the future. Thinking about that I want to not see it as being scared about not being able to turn back. but to know I went forward. Upward. Onward.
A previous years goal list here.

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If I Had It My Way...

- I would wake up tomorrow and breath in fresh mountain air and find myself in Idaho.

- Coffee would be served in excess and free of charge at my office.

- It would be 9:30am and I would have no where to be, nothing to do, and no one to see.

- There would be a plate of the cheesy eggs we got to each every morning in Whistler when we went on our final ski vacation for the year.

- Poodles would be as plentiful as rats in DC. Running the streets and for the taking if you chose to take one (or twenty) home with you.

- Hogwarts really did exist and I was working on my enrollment paperwork.

- My wedding planning-paper store-dance studio would be open and I would be living the best day of my life every single day.

- I could recreate the infamous Kate Spade wall in my new apartment.

- Summer in DC would just not happen and I would have to think about how miserable the next 4 months are here.

- I would have a trip planned to Italy to drink wine, eat cheese, and enjoy the beautiful life.

- I would know what I am supposed to do, where I am supposed to be, and what the meaning of happiness is.

Calling Mom

I don't see my family a ton as I am sure you have all figured out. I try to shoot for two visits a year (!!! Wow, writing that is so so so sad to me, but it is what it is I suppose) with the hefty flight costs and the fact that I can't get over the idea that if I am spending that much money I refuse to go for just a long weekend. On top of that limited face to face interaction....my phone skillz....well for whatever reason, they have slid way down hill. Perhaps it is that whole thing where I secretly resent cell phones (phones that take away from human interaction just about push me over the edge these days), but I have become a really bad "caller". The lovely time difference (ok ok ok, only a few hours, but STILL it is a time difference) also doesn't help my case. By the time I am wrapped up with my evening, dinner, dishes, answering work emails, etc. it is 9/10ish, which is prime dinner time for my west coast dwelling peeps. My family and I talk fairly often (I guess my definition of "often" is subjective as I have friends who talk to their parents everyday), about once every week and a half to two weeks, my friends and I...well we rely on gchat, texts and emails to keep us connected because of that pesky time difference, 20-something-jobs, and respective personal lives that really can make it hard.

However, as much as I can write all of these justifications to valid the infrequency of my interactions, I want to vow to be better.

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Errrr. Or Dad, or Sister. Or Friends.

Perhaps I am feeling sentimental, or really getting homesick :), but I am craving that interaction. To not have to get the readers digest version of what has been going on with people. I want to be able to follow-up on conversations and know something is coming up with somone.

Erica is the queen of this. She remembers birthdays, anniversaries, big test days, presentations at work, interviews, dog birthdays, favorite foods, and the list goes on. About a month ago I came in to work to find an email in the morning asking me how something went. I was so touched to see that from her! I have good people in my life.

So on my list for April personal growth items: call people more.

I can't remember where I read it, but a blogger I read wrote about the 5 minute phone call. The understanding that friends and family are busy. We all are. So don't shoot for 30 minutes of uninterrupted conversation. Enjoy the five minutes, then hang up. Make it longer if you can, but if you need to cook dinner, tie a kids shoe, get the dog from the backyard, you can and there are no expectations. This is what I will focus on. Quick, but more frequent interaction.

Does anyone else find themselves making excuses for their lack of voice to voice communication with people? I also really like the idea of sending hand written notes (Erica does that as well :)!) which maybe I can also adopt, but what else to you do to stay connect with long distance family and friends?

The Perfect Conversation...With Yourself

Who has those moments of pure inspiration? The perfectly crafted dialogue where you say what is exactly on your mind. You aren't overly wordy. You are well-spoken, witty in all the right places, serious enough to let someone know you mean business, and you finish the conversation getting your point across and the other person understanding exactly where you are coming from.

I have these conversations all the time in my head when I am doing idle tasks. In the shower, brushing my teeth, drying my hair, waiting for the the coffee to brew, walking. 

I walk home a lot, and those 20 or so minutes can bring about some of the most inspired conversations in my head.

Ok, so I am walking home the other day, having this pointed, confrontational conversation that is going so well. In my head I am thinking "Wow, yea! That is a great point Andrea! Remember that to use in real conversation!" and "Wooo, you go! You say it! Say it how you feel!"

Then it happened....

In this fake conversation where I was saying all the right things. I said the most brutally honest thing I could have possibly said. It hung there. My words to this other person that was in my head at the time. I froze. The tears started to prickle behind my eyes, and I started booking it to my apartment. 

Well I said it alright....and now it is hanging there. This unfinished conversation in my head where I know I said everything right, and true....and really really scary. 

Needless to say....I have been walking with my brain turned off. Listening to music. Going over to-do lists in my head. Keeping my head busy. You know...trying not to go completely crazy :) since I am clearly halfway there.

Where do you find you conversation inspiration? My friend and co-worker finds hers while brushing her teeth. I also know someone who has her brilliant conversations when she is running. 

You Won't Find this on WedMD

When I get really fired up, or really upset I sink into this almost sub-human, not-natural, overly cordial and appropriate human who goes through some coping stages to gain "control". Now, this isn't common, but just sometimes I go through what I like to call the 4 phases of freak out.  

Phase 1: Detached and Cordial Hear me Roar

Not much to see here folks. I pretty much become the fake sorority version of myself that got me through rush pulled together power house of a woman I can be, sans the "err, umm" ness that typically accompanies my personality. If you don't spend a lot of time around me, I probably just come off as distracted. BEWARE: Deep down it is like a really tired three year old who is all fun and games until they trip and fall.

This gives away to my need to see results...

Phase 2: Baking to Cope

Cookies typically. Chocolate chip is usually the for sure sign I have moved into phase two (or if one missed phase 1- this is a pretty apparent sign). Sometimes I will go for something really complicated. Seven layer cake. Baked Alaska. Truffles. Usually I go with something that is quick, comes with clear direction and I know the outcome. I like the feeling of pulling out a sheet of cookies and knowing that I followed the directions and therefore got exactly what was expected and predicted. No back talking, no behavior that makes me want to bang my head against a wall. Just pure, delightful cookies that I can eat to distract myself.

Phase 3: Cleaning

If the cookies don't make me feel better, or don't give me time to sort through my frustration (or I realized I made my tush bigger and didn't solve anything).  I move on to cleaning. Deep cleaning. Refrigerators, nooks and crannys, drawers that I usually just pretend don't exist, closets, and under furniture. Luckily, for me this usually results in a pretty clean apartment. You can get out a lot of frustration scrubbing, scrapping, pushing and pulling cleaning products around. You also can run through a few rolls of paper towels. Your skin can also get so dry it hurts the next day. Oh, but it feels so good?

This is the phase that usually breaks me. I can't say I have hit the cleaning phase and not finally, completely and totally lost my ish and finally just cried, and finally verbally diarrheaed on someone. That isn't to say there isn't a Phase 4....

Phase 4: ???

I hope that this could potentially be excessive working out and healthy eating habits...but let's be real, this is me we are talking about. I am thinking it is something more like excessive poodle purchasing. I'd probably have 8-10 poodles in this phase and would start wearing knit sweaters with poodles on them (oh wait....I already do that). You get the point. I don't think I or anyone every wants to see Phase 4.

Let's add some real life examples to this, shall we?

This weekend. I baked. I baked brown butter, nutella stuffed sea salt cookies. I also bought everything to make chewy pumpkin cookies. After the baking? Well I just finished a marathon 5 hours deep scrub of the main room of my apartment. Oh! You are going to open that drawer in my tv stand? Oh! It is perfectly organized and clean? Yea, that is right. I went a little nuts. My hands hurt. I am down one roll of paper towels and my apartment smells like synthetic lemon. I also didn't stop because I felt better. No. Instead I stopped so I could take a shower and put some real clothes on. Pretty sure I have another few days of the Phase 3ness. Unless I lose my ish. Which I might. Never can tell when I am going to hit that point.

For now, I am going to ride out this cleaning craze. Hope I make it to my closet and then I will just anticipate the need to eat all those cookies I made....

Does Marriage Change Everything?

A while back I was doing the girl thing were you start bemoaning to your girlfriends about how you don't have a ring on your finger. The conversation always goes something like this:

Complaining Girl: "Ugh, so I was on facebook and ANOTHER sorority sister got engage, and she like FOUR years younger than me! What am I doing wrong?!?"
Supportive Friend: " Well you can't compare your relationship to anyone else's. It is special and unique, and so YOU, that no one else can compare"
CG: "I knooooow, but don't want to end up alone, with like 40 cats, 20 poodles, 10 betas and a partridge in a pear tree"
SF: "You won't end up alone! You are SUCH a catch! So much going for you ya-da-ya-da-ya-da"
CG: "You're right, I am being irrational, I just really want to avoid all those pets"

Am I right? (Or rather some variation of this conversation goes down)

Well my friend threw me for a loop when I was playing the role of CG.

After letting me go on about "I'm not getting any younger" and "I can't believe all these people are engaged and are twenty years younger than me" she simple looked at me and said:

"Marriage doesn't change anything"

BAM! I felt like a bus flew around the corner and plowed me over. Pardon? It doesn't change anything?!?

I snapped my tongue back in my mouth knowing I was treading on ground where I could say something really dumb.

So I marinated.

I still don't know what I think.  Does marriage change things?

The more I thought about it, the more I lean towards the answer of:  of course it does.

Sure it is just a piece of paper and a social construct. I see her point- I really do. It is all about what you commit to. The other part of me, that part of me that wanted to start arguing and possibly saying something rash, is that of course it changes things. I won't even bring in the religious aspect of this discussion, but I still believe that there is merit to those vows. To that piece of paper. To the promise it creates. I may be making this up in my head, but one of the aspects I find so romantic about marriage is that you are committing to a set of expectations in front of the people that will love and support your relationship. It takes away that 'get-out-of-jail' free card and makes sure you hold up your end of those vows.

What do you all think? Does anyone else have a better explanation of why I possibly so quickly jumped to the defense of marriage? Who sees it as not changing things?


Interested in why you're not married? Just one of my favorite satirical posts about the topic...please note SATIRE.

My Thoughts, Feelings and Lack Thereof.

It started awhile back. Noticing that my friends couldn't spend time together without everyone having a phone in their hands or on the table. Every subject of conversation was not complete without someone using their phone to look something up, show an email,  or finding a youtube video we were talking about. It started making me frustrated. In response, I started correcting my own behaviors: my phone remains in my purse when with friends at dinner, trying to call people more than tweet, text, email, facebook them, and generally just making sure my "social media life" isn't impacting the people that were tangibly right in front of me.

I feel like I do a good job being present and engaged when I am with people. Most of the time. I will be the first to admit I have days where I can't get off facebook, or evenings where I am texting, emailing away and my presence is half-assed. However, I have made an effort. I have recognized that the never ending stream of information about people, their lives, news, worthless crap could go on all day, and yet what really matters to me is spending quality, focused, and intentional time with the people who deserve all of me.

Even on phone calls, I am trying to be more focused. Giving the person on the other end, intentional (albeit sometimes brief), meaningful conversation. In-person, I strive to make sure I don't  make someone feel the way I feel when someone is choosing to pay more attention to the things happening on their phone than me.

We obviously live in a world where technology drives much of our lives, but I want my relationships back. I want to also feel like I am not asking too much of people to put away their phones and to have intentional, dedicated time with me. I'm tired of feeling like I am asking too much for phones, and computers to be put away. I am also tired of feeling like I have lost the ability to have a life outside of these "social" tools. I want to feel happy, invigorated, challenged, and connected after I spend time with someone or give someone a call. I want to take back control of having meaningful conversations that actually mean something, that contribut to my life, and made me think. Right now, I feel so stressed about not being funny enough, or engaging enough to deserve some one's full attention. And that. Is. Just. Sad.

Jenni's post today over at Story of My Life spoke to me with words I had been miserably failing to utter. I am glad she said something. I am glad I am saying something now. I want to join her in taking the effort to make my time "more intentional". I hope that you will all hold me accountable. Tell me to stop texting you and to call. Tell me that gchat is not an acceptable form of communication for speaking with your best friends (at least as the ONLY form of communication). Ask me why you've seen 11 tweets in 10 minutes. Tell me to put my phone away, or to go home if I have more important things to do. And tell me that it is ok for me to feel like I deserve the same from others.

These are the Best Years

Are they? Are they really? I feel like I have heard the "___Insert time period__ are the best years of your life!" more times than I can count. Naturally there isn't any consensus on what those years are, but apparently there are years, that happen to be the "best".

"High School is the best three years of your life!"

"College is the best four years of your life!"

"Your twenties are by far the best years of your life!"

and now I am hearing that I am now supposed to be looking forward to my thirties!!?!

First of all, let's get something straight. My thirties scare the living daylights out of me. I think I have such expectations of what my life will hold by thirty, that I am terrified to get there, and possibly be unmarried, without kids or any sight of kids and still living in 415 rented square feet.

On the flip side I can't wait for my thirties. Maybe because I hope to be more established. Less in that IonlycanownIKEAfurnitureandshopatONformyclothes stage of my life. Additionally....I hope poodle ownership will come in my thirties as well.

My twenties seemed like the time that I would get a lot done in. You know, like conquer the world. Save a company from total meltdown. Be the answer to some man's prayers. Rescue multiple homeless poodles. Donating more money to the SPCA than Sarah McLaughlin knows what to do it.

Now I will say my college years were truly awesome. Without flaw or drama?...not even close. But I wouldn't have changed a thing about those years.

High school...well let's just say I survived! No really, it wasn't bad, but I wouldn't say that I would go back to high school given the change.

So what am I saying? I guess I am saying...What are the best years of your life? When do you know you are living out these epic years. What is that supposed to look like?

Well I am sure there aren't any answers. There is certainly no way to live your life to ensure you are living "the best years of your life". I do have to say, I am not sure I am a fan of this "best years" statement. I mean, what happens after these "best years" that everyone keeps referring to!?

Do you just shrivel up and become old and lame after that last ditch attempt for the "best years" in your thirties (surely not as I know some pretty awesome older than 30 people!).

So why has this become in infatuation to try to pin a certain specified period of your life to be something that comes with all these expectations. Looking forward to these years that will just magically bring the most amazing opportunities, memories, friends, love, success and general amazingness. In searching for some others thoughts on this subject I came across a quote:

The best years of your life are the ones in which you decide your problems are your own. You do not blame them on your mother, the ecology, or the President. You realize that you control your own destiny
Albert Ellis

BAM! There. That sums up my thoughts. You create the best years of your life. You create the best days, the best moments, and the decision to control your destiny.

So while I am sure there is someone out there telling me that these years in my twenties are magical and have unicorns running in the streets, I like the idea better that I determine what are the best years of my life. Maybe they aren't all going to be clumped together, and I sure as hell hope it isn't just 3 or 4 short years, but rather periods of time throughout my life that write a wonderful tale.

HR Learnings

I took an into to psych course in college ( one of those classes that 700 people took each quarter) and I remembered really enjoying it.

Well, while studying for my PHR I found this section on principles of human behavior. It went a little something like this:

All behavior is caused. People have a reason for doing what they do.
All behavior is directed toward achieving a goal. People do things to accomplish something. Behavior is not just random.

 

It was a very stark reminder that people do things and with thinking about them. They make decisions. It may be decisions I don't like, or it may be a decision that hurts me. I have zero control over the decisions people make. What I do have control over is:

• My own decision about how to react.
  
• Based on other people's decisions, do I want them to remain a part of my life.
• And while judgement is not something I should do, I can decide to not agree and I'm allowed to be hurt.

It can be jarring to realize that all those behaviors that people have exhibited did have an intention. It can open a world of wounds and a long list of questions that force you to make some tough decisions. The beauty of it all?

You are making your own decisions.

Which means you can do that whatever you like.

No rules. Just the awareness that your behavior is never random. So be nice.

 

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Reading Material

I love finding a good article online and love finding recommended reading from other bloggers, as it is almost like a mini book club of sorts. I have read some things lately that have really resonated with me for different reasons. A few thoughts on some of the things I have been reading lately for you:

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Some of you may have see the article about the "Pledge Prep" article that ran in the New York Times. My first reaction was shamefully "Wow, I want that job". What has followed in the past few days has been many voices from my connections into the Greek community about how ridiculous the article was and how it brings up one of the most fundamentally sticky issues of sorority or fraternity membership.

You have to have new members to stay alive. Recruitment is your blood line. It is the metric for a healthy chapter, and a chapter that is sustainable. Recruitment is an emotional experience for anyone who has been through it. You are picking an organization that you will forever associate yourself with. It is not a four year commitment. It is a lifetime. Not a lifetime of volunteering, or wearing your letters, or chanting Boom Boom (It certainly can be if you want--which I do) but sorority life brings to you some of the best friends you will ever have, and some of the best memories you will ever create. That is a big decision when you are deciding which letters to wear.

As much stress that recruitment can bring, I do have to say the Response to "Pledge Prep" published over at Phired Up, brings up some of the changes that the Greek community needs to address and also reminded me that my experience taught me that sorority life is anything but a scripted, superficial experience and we as alum and members of the Greek community need to make change to ensure that the experience as a whole-from recruitment to alumni experience is meaningful and empowering.

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Through reading a Cup of Jo I was led to a huff post article on 15 Ways to Stay Married for 15 Years. Not only do I LOVE weddings. I love marriage. I love the idea of it, I love knowing that you can spend yourself tied to someone who you just can't get enough of for the rest of your life.

I also am realistic. Life experiences and cold hard facts of life have shaped me into someone who is cautious and protective of my heart. I am firm believer in finding those people who are happily married, and have great relationships and learn from them. Soak up their philosophies, their tips and tricks, and mindset that contribute to a happy and healthy marriage. This article has real, practical, and a not-too-serious-but-just-serious-enough advice. I know there are parts of this that I have tucked away for my relationships and one-day marriage.

I particularly liked point 10. "Stop thinking temporarily". Here is an excerpt that I found incredibly poignant and moving:

"Marriage is not conditional. It is permanent. Your husband will be with you until you die. That is a given. It sounds obvious, but really making it a given is hard. You tend to think in "ifs" and "thens" even when you've publicly committed to forever."

"Accept that you're going to stay with him. He's going to stay with you. Inhabit that and figure out how to make THAT work, instead of living with the "what if"s and "in case of's."


The other point that really stuck was number 15: "Trust the person you married"

" Harder to be loved than to love."

Say what?

But it is true.

"Love them completely and let them love you. If it all goes to seed, it's going to hurt either way. Better to have gone into it full throttle. Full throttle marriage is a thrilling ride."

Read the article. I loved it.

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Finally. Making friends as an adult. Hard shit. This article explains it all so well. If you aren't near your college friends, I am sure you can relate to this just as I have.


There you go my friends! Some reading material to keep you occupied and thinking.

Anyone else have some good reads lately?

What Really Gets Me

Seeing a man carry flowers.

I have no idea where these flowers are going. Maybe they are

• going home to his wife/girlfriend/SO for an anniversary or birthday. Or maybe just because he loves someon
• for his daughter after her dance recital
• for a sick friend
• to congratulate someone on a new baby
• for a co-worker who needs a pick-me-up
• for his mother who he hasn't seen in weeks because he has been too busy with work

Regardless, it makes me smile. While flowers don't last; they wilt and you can't keep them forever- I think that is what makes them so special.

Such a gesture of affection.

They don't last, they are sunk money, and something you don't have forever. In a way they represent an acknowledgement that a reason for flowers can be just a fleeting as the flowers themselves. Bringing them home to the person you love just because at a certain moment you remembered how pretty they looked or how well they fold your socks.

It gets me. Tugs right at my heart strings. Makes me smile at the guy carrying them and restores my faith in the belief that there is always more good than bad in the world. So thank you to all the flower carrying men in the world.

Talking Walls

I've spent my evening trying to get my fancy new iPad up and ready to do some blogging. I purchased the Blogsy app and spent some time getting acquainted with that. Hopefully I will shed the bulky laptop and be on my way to iPad blogging!

Speaking of shedding things. Go with me here and I promise I will finish New York posts. I keep tending to go back, literally, physically, going back to places that make me feel disoriented and lost. It is amazing how a place. A physical place--can hold memories. A vessel of intangible thoughts and feelings that you seem to run into in just that place. Have you noticed that? The words "if walls could talk"...well I am starting to wish I could hear the story some of the walls I have been in would say.

It is hard to let go of memories, because with memories are the idea that there may be another course your life could have taken. You can analyze memories and see where they could have led you, or better see how they were leading you somewhere.

There can be a muscle memory to being somewhere. Despite time passing, and you retraining yourself to adapt to a new place, you can still find yourself falling back into old habits without effort.

I know this is one of those illusive posts that no one likes, but this is my blog, no? (Just kidding). But if I have learned anything from my young professional life, it is to keep my professional life away from my blog and personal life. So this is the dividing line. A cryptic post about feeling totally disjointed tonight and unsettled.

Hopefully nothing that a good nights sleep can't fix!

Some thoughts on Love.

Being an adult is confusing. Perplexing. Thrilling and terrifying at the same time. There are days where I wonder what ever happened in my life that granted me the authority to make a string of biggirldecisions in a day based upon my "experience" and "desires". I constantly struggle to feel that I have any clue about what I am doing in my life.

But even bigger than that right now the thought weighing on my heart and mind has been this concept of loving someone. Family. Friends. Siblings. Significant Others.


You have to really trust these people. While I am sure no one really knows what they are doing and what direction they are going in, it forces you to rely even more in the thought that the people you share your heart with are going to do everything in their power to treat it with the best of intentions. Certainly people are going to mess up, make wrong turns. Without a doubt this is going to happen- and forgiving and understanding is necessary in love and any relationship. But how do you know that someone who is holding your heart will attempt to act with the best of intentions?


Simple answer: You don't.


So you rely on patterns of behavior that demonstrate that their bumbling and fumbling through life is happening with the best of intentions not only for themselves, but in relation to you and the part of your life you have entrusted in them. In return, you have to be aware that your actions and patterns of behavior are also demonstrating your level of care and concern for their well-being.


It's scary and crazy daunting to think about.

But doctors-- they take that Hippocratic Oath where they pledge to do as little harm as possible in the treatment of patients (drastically paraphrased). What do the people you share your heart with sign on to? What oath or promises do they make that demonstrates their good faith effort to keep your heart as safe as possible and treated with only the best intentions?

You throw in marriage and a wedding as symbols of this dedication and promise, and at its face value this is a giant proclaimation from both parties. But I feel like this idea of trusting someone to include you in their stumbling towards their future and dreams-- is much more important and a foundation that has to be there before a wedding. I am sure all you married people out there can speak much more eloquently to this as I am strictly observing this from someone who is in a relationship but not married.

So building this foundation- It's a two fold effort. You seek these patterns in people to see how they could act, and then you seek a verbal affirmation of what you observe (or what you hope to observe).

Love. It is entrusting someone with everything that makes you you. It is being trusted. Proving you are worth that trust and in return asking them to prove it back.
 __________________

I promise I will now resume back to the Turkey Trip recap and be done with the self-analyzing post. Thanks for hanging in there....if you made it to the end!