Reflections...

It is a Saturday evening and I lay here on the couch watching You've Got Mail, my legs intertwined with the boy, the dog sleeping peacefully below our feet, and playing with my photography blog. I decided to open this blog and take a gander. Now I realize how drastically my life has changed since May 2011. Since my last post.

Looking back I realize I was bitter and cynical. I had begun to lose myself. I had forgotten all perfect imperfections that surround me in this city I love. I have made many choice that have not only transformed me into the woman I am today, but they also helped me out of what I now see as a very dark place. I also made many choice that led me to that black whole. 

On a cold, rainy February night almost two years ago a girlfriend invited me for happy hour on a Friday evening. Had you of told me when I received that text that my life was about to change I would have sucker punched you and called you crazy. At that point I thought I had everything figured out. I had a very unplanned planned life and assumed that I would be moving to New York City when I was 28. The same girlfriend and I made a deal when we were 22... If there was nothing holding us to Raleigh by the time we were 28 then we would pack out bags and head to SoHo, or some other NYC zipcode. When we made that deal I assumed nothing would hold me back. 

I walked into Tribeca Tavern in all awkward nervousness assuming I would drink too many beers too quickly to feel comfortable, then start making new friends. The group was small, I knew only one person. The guy at the end of the table was nerdy, cute, funny, and not my type. He asked if he could give me his number...I told him there was not point because I would never call. Yes, I realize I was a bitch,  but I was guarded. And he was persistent and somehow or another we managed to publicly, and probably grotesquely, make out for 3 hours that night.

We were slow to start and I was uncertain for a while, but now I realize why people believe in marriage. Why people believe in love. And why it is much easier loving the imperfect. Why the idea of growing old with someone is much more appealing than being a cat lady. Plus, I really dislike cats.

For a long time now I have wondered why I stopped writing. Why every time I opened my book I was not able to write the eloquent words my brain was typing before me. I had analyzed every reason and just chalked it up to not setting side enough time, to working to much, or just being to busy. Every adults excuse for when life gets in the way of well laid plans. 

Now I realize it is because I have been happy. Truly, unconventionally, bottom of the stomach laughter happy. Because finally real life is better than any silly little book I could right. Finally, my little imperfect world is absolutely perfect for me. I am not sure when the anger disappeared, but I guess when I got busy learning to be a girlfriend, I also got busy living life rather than being stagnant and dreaming of what life would be like somewhere else. What life would be like if it were no longer my life. 

Now I have a photography blog because I want to capture all the joy and laughter that surrounds me. I want to take pictures of my friends when they have those deep belly laughs. I want to take pictures of butterflies and mountains. Pictures of my friends at Christmas and my dog sleeping below me. Pictures of life because pictures are real. Silly little books and writing blogs only date stamp a mere morsel my life. Pictures photo-stamp it.

As I come to a close, I leave with this. I now realize in some weird way he has helped me become the person I am today. That person from May 2011 no longer exist, nor do I recognize that girl. I am not sure who she is or how I became her. That girl sat on the couch and at sherbet all day while this girls goes for photography walks, eats good food, goes to museums, has gone on countless trips over the past year and planning more. This girl is happy. This girl has fallen in love with her best friend and has become a better person for it.

And in the words of Andy Dufreese, circa Shawshank Redemption...either get busy living or get busy dying. 

Complacency

Sometimes I have a strong desire to pack all my things into my 1999 Honda Accord, give all the rest of my material possessions away and just drive as if there is no end in sight. As if there is no impending rapture and the sunrise and sunset are the only things that keep me grounded. I have that desire right now, to go to the ocean and inhale intoxicating salty air, to drive north and see the concrete jungle of NYC, then head further to Boston and drink a pint with a 3 generation Irishman, and head across the Midwest cross into Canada, settle safely back into the Rockies and learn how to snowboard in Utah, settle my toes back into the coast line of the Pacific Northwest, and drink a pint in a 1930's resort built on top of Mt. Hood, or stand mere miles away for the tormented Mt. Saint Helen's again, travel down the coast and run across the San Francisco Bay Bridge, gamble away a $1000 in Las Vegas, and buy a turquoise bracelet in a market on the side of the road from the Navajo Indians and watch a pow-wow in awe. Eat tacos in Texas and craw-fish in Louisiana. Talk to Elvis in Memphis and eat a peach in Georgia. And after I make my way back to Raleigh in solemn slumber, park my car and hop on a train to Newark, fly across the ocean and get lost in the beauty of Europe.
I have spent half of my life trying not be complacent with things, yet that is exactly what I have done. I became complacent. I have traveled so little that I have yet to have a need to a passport nor do I even know where my birth certificate is to obtain one. I have only been to the NC mountains twice and i live 5 hours away, barely been past Myrtle Beach and except for one trip to Alabama and one to Florida, the only thing I know below the Mason Dixon line is VA and NC and never been above it. Did I somewhere in my fear of commitment, and fear of bearing hurt again, make me completely complacent in my current surroundings because that is where I feel comfortable, where I feel safe. Am I terrified of leaving Raleigh because I am scared of what the rest of the world truly holds. Is it not as vibrant and glamorous as I have made myself believe it is.
There is a giant world that I have barely made my mark in.

And maybe sometimes we all get a little lost along the way.....

Quarter life crisis or a coming of age...

There is a point in each of our lives where we must grow up. We have no choice. Life has handed us every ripe lemon from Harris Teeter and we have each, independently, chosen what drink to drink.

We have no choice but to grow up, at the end of the day, life is what happens. Our own age tells it's own fairytale. We learn how to pay bills, change the oil in our car..or pay someone to do so, we learn how to handle heartache, we learn how to protect our own selves because nobody else can. We learn who to trust and who to push away, who to fight for and who is not worth fighting with. We learn that our battles, are not everyone else's battles, and that our own demons should make us stronger, not hinder us.

So, while we may not have the choice to grow up because life tells us to, everyday we wake up brush our teeth, increase our heartbeat with coffee, and traipse our way to the office, and pray to God that one douchebag will just leave you alone for the day.
And somewhere in our mid-twenties I think, well at least this is my perception, we all wonder what this growing up shenangins is all about.

Really, because I sure did love my job working in produce stand when I was 16 and I could take naps if no one was around then get paid cash money, go home to a nice meal where mom and dad paid all the bills and that cash money was mine...not the cable and electric companies. Granted, the rules and regulations of living under your parents roof and the idiotic tendencies of being 16 by no circumstances made me an upstanding citizen, but I only had 3 thought processes at the time. What are my besties doing, will I ever have a boyfriend, and where do I go to college.

At the time I had no clue that going to college....actually meant paying for college. Or having a cell phone meant paying a cell phone bill. Or having chicken for dinner, meant paying $5 for the package of chicken.

Now, here I am 10 years later, faced with some of the same struggles but on a much bigger scale, and without the solace of my bedroom in my parents home surround by the securities of childhood and their bank account. But rather faced life with my own accord.

Somehow over the past 10 years I have managed to graduate college and simultaneously get myself $25,000 in debt, had jobs, quit jobs, had boyfriends, dumped boyfriends, broken cars, fixed cars, had friends, lost friends, made even greater friends, flown across the country and booked my own ticket, played college softball and broken many bones, had a savings account, completely wiped the savings account dry, been stranded on the side of the road, not been able to run 0.5 miles, ran 5 miles, eaten mushrooms, got a speeding ticket, paid my own way out of the speeding ticket..without the use of tears, drank too many beers, seen the sunrise on the east coast and set on the west coast, all with golden sand between my feet facing the horizon, slept in my car, cried those tears that start in the bottom of your stomach and almost come out of your body as throw-up, laughed so hard that people probably wanted to throw shards of glass at me to end the non-sense, drank the rockies on the beach under the moonlight, and watched Beetlejuice for the first time, been yelled at by my friends, and laughed an entire 3 hour car-ride with my friends.

I get by with a little help from my friends.

And now we have the same worries, tackle on new worries, bigger worries, independent demons.

I still wonder what my besties are doing, but thanks to the cell phone bill I pay, I can quickly find out.
I still wonder will I have a boyfriend, but now it has escalated to will I ever get married and do I even believe in the constitution of marriage.
I still wonder about college, and will I ever go back. Will I become like so many other working adults and have a 9-5 job and then class afterwards. Can I handle the intensity, can I be good at both? Do I really want to add to my college debt?


And I have fought every demon in my head and wondered if any of my decisions were the right decision. Will my future decisions be the right decision? Will I wake up when I'm 50 and wonder if I squeezed the right lemons.

All the single ladies

When I was a little girl, like many other little girls, I had dreams that were far and wide, as well as straight and narrow. I knew the social stigma's of living in the South, and I saw numerous females marry and have children before 25, I knew that was not the dream for me. Hyde County was an amazing place. Does it have high rise building, Wal-Marts, or McDonalds...no. It has heart. When you take the statement " Home is where the heart is" every person from Hyde County can identify. You start kindergarten with the same 25 faces, and at 18 years old on the Mattamuskeet High football field you wipe tears of joy and sadness and wave goodbye to the same 25 faces. I go back now, almost 9 years later, and things have still not changed. That place, those back roads, that lake, that football field and softball field, those ponds and cornfields, those 25 faces were all defining moments in my life.

These people made me who I am.

My sophmore year of high school, my brother was a freshman at NC State, and I can remember like it was yesterday, the first time I rode onto campus, and walked into Owen Hall to see my brothers dorm. The same dorm I traipsed in and out of as a freshman in college myself to visit those home town faces. Or that same year, when I went to Washington, DC during Mrs. Dunbar's English class. Something in that year changed me, and as much as I loved home, I wanted to be in the city, I wanted the culture, and most importantly, I wanted independence.

Not from my parents, not from rules. I wanted the independence to make my own decisions, make my own way, and most importantly make my own mistakes. To me, staying in Hyde County, or going back after college, just meant making other peoples mistakes, all over again.

Life is simple at home. There is no corporate rat race, there are no strangers, you never have to wonder if this person is trustworthy or not, you already know, you have always known.But here, each face is not these 25, strangers are truly strangers. Mistakes are your mistakes. Every single day you make your own choice as to what shoe to put on and what lane on HWY 40 to drive.

With all that being said, what I see as one my greatest opportunities...others may see as a great failure.

I am 26. And I am single.

Not only am I single, I refuse to settle for anything less than butterflies. Yes, I have been extremely picky in choosing the guys that I date, and whom I allow myself to get close with...but due to my own fears of commitment and my desire to make a name for myself before I take another's name have left me exactly where I want to be.

Chastise away, thats fine. If you want to think something is wrong with me because I damn sure do not need a man to hold my hand for all life's ventures, thats fine. If you want to judge me because I am 26, and completely single in the South, thats fine. I went to Meredith, I know plenty of females that lived out that same social stigma, with the perfect little house, the perfect little dog, the perfect little job, and the perfect clothes. I know some still married, I know some already divorced.

Why should I marry perfection, when imperfections are much more beautiful.

I'm not perfect. I wear nail polish until it chips; sometimes I hog the bed; I hate taking out the trash; I like to drink a glass of wine and watch tv alone; sometimes I play dress up with my own clothes; I do not like sharing the DVR, I leave my clothes on the bathroom floor, and forget to take out coffee filters. I would rather cook for one because the meals last me longer, I want a dog, but won't get one because I couldn't come and go as I please. I do not want to share my closet and like ALL my t-shirts. I have vacuuming. I like leaving the house and not telling someone where I'm going.Sometimes I poot profusely in the morning (tmi, get over it), or burp really loudly, or shove too much food in my mouth. I chew on my cheeks and bite my nails. I like going to my best friends house and staying till midnight, and nobody is calling asking where I am. I am TERRIFIED of being a mother.

To me, there is nothing wrong with these imperfections, because at the end of the day they make me perfect.

One day I may find Mr. Imperfect, I may never find him either. But I will not convince someone to love me, I will walk away, I'm not scared to be alone. If his parents hate me, I will walk away. If my parents hate him, then they see something I do not. If my friends hate him, then he is probably SOL. I will not try to convince other people we are perfect. If I can't be myself with him, when he finally does see the real me, he will hate me and think I have changed. If he is never himself, I will think he is crazy the days hes shows his true colors. If he is not my best friend, then why spend the rest of my life with a person that doesn't know my weakest links. If my heart doesn't do a little tap dance when I see him now, then what happens when he's old and wrinkly and we have had kids and the kids are out of the house and we haven't even liked each other in 30 years.

Images do not matter. Gusto does.

I'm not settling till I have gusto.

I refused to settle 10 years ago the day I knew there was a far bigger world than the beautiful cotton fields and intoxicating Hyde County air.

But just because I chose this life, do not think I am any less of a person.

Plus, haven't we all watched Sex and the City, and I don't see people hating Samantha.

the devil wore prada...now he wears walmart

Life on a budget.

The 4 failed words no mid-twenties something girl likes to hear.
Reality ... yes
Fun ... No

Someday's I wake up and wish I was like one of the people that graduated college and went straight into some amazing career, and had already put in 4 hard years in a career, worked my way up from the bottom, and well on my way to the big leagues....

Oh, wait, never mind I did do that..And I'm fairly certain I lost my soul in the process.

But now, here I am, starting over,slowing putting the pieces back together, so slowly the there is a turtle and a snail in a race with each other, and not even Jimmie Johnson can figure out who is making a left turn.
There were 2 subtitles in that statement, but only a select handful will understand.

Budgeting encompasses every aspect of your life. I long ago traded my Dior mascara for Maybelline and gave up all hopes of driving a car without 200,000 miles and tings and tangs all over the place. I once had a '91 Ford Escort station-wagon, hatchback. I was 3 different shades of burgundy, the hatch had to be held up with a stick, and if you could imagine a car part breaking it probably did. I once drove it an hour with only 1st,3rd, and 5th gear...and it was a manual. And once you had the car in 5th, it would not come out.

On the note of cars, I must take my car to every bitterly poor person worst fear...the mechanic. And face the deep breath in/deep breath out multiple anxiety attacks that will follow...... Will my car make it to the shop? Oh, God its going to die! I've killed it, somebody better teach me how to take the bus. Then once, in your mind, the car has "coasted" into to garage, you realize they now have to look at the issues. And quote you the ill-fated price. The quote that will cause you to sell you soul to the devil. Its not even a price your crack can cash...
And then, once you have scraped your chin off the ground, wiped away the stinging tears, and regained your composure, you tell them to fix it...but you'll be waiting in the dish pit at McDonalds because god knows your really going to need 2 jobs now.

Maybe I can bat my eyes and get a discount....

Doubtful.

But I am not opposed to flirting with a grease monkey.

Plus grease monkeys do not mind if you bought your pants at Goodwill and shirt at Wal-Mart...if you have all your teeth and have the ability to hand him a Budweiser he is probably happy.

a conglomeration of pointless facts.

1. I get muscle cramps in my calves frequently while sleeping..this is probably has a central medical cause, like a lack of potassium or some other vital nutrient. I do take a potassium supplement, which quite often counteracts this. But I am fairly certain there is a softball in my leg that is about to hit a grand slam at 3 am.
2. I strongly dislike water on my hands. Maybe it was an excuse not to wash dishes as a child, but I just don't like the feeling of my hands being dripping wet, and immediately feel the need to dry every nook and cranny before moving along.
3. My phone has an obnoxiously short battery life. I'm sorry phone developers, but if you are going to make a high power phone, please make a batter that can last more that 2.5 hours, it is quite annoying.
4. I like eating orange sherbet when I'm hungover. Or any other time I don't feel well.
5. Valentine's Day is 100% absolutely, positively, without a doubt....STUPID. And this is not because I am single, its because I hate chocolate, allergic to bullshit, and the smell of flowers always toy with my sinus's this time of year.
6. I run...I run fairly frequently...4 + miles that is...I HATE RUNNING. I do it for the mental test.
7. I'm a perfectionist in many areas. But I could care less if my bed is made dishes are washed or room is tidy.
8. My closet is color coordinated. I can't sleep if the color scheme is out of balance.
9. Sometimes I dream about insurance claims and dropping an entire tray of drinks on people at the same time.
10. I had a childhood doll, his name was Bubbles, he was a clown, we were inseparable...I hate clowns.
11. I have been both a Girl Scout and a Boy Scout in my lifetime.
12. Most likely, I will become an old cat lady. If not, the person that convinces me to fall in love with them had better be a Greek god. I have loved once, and for me, that was enough.
13. Yes, I just stole #12 from The Notebook.
14. I have to move in 2.5 months. I am getting a 1 bedroom apartment with my own lease, and the electric/cable bill in my name. Hell will surely freeze over that day.
15. I HATE, HATE, HATE, HATE, HATE...did I mention HATE...talking on the phone. I'm not sure how I survive on a daily basis except knowing it pays my bills...but I HATE talking on the phone.
16. And I screen calls.
17. My brother has a dog, or tiny terror, his name is Hank and he is the best face to come home to every day. He loves you, . I know the minute I open the door there is going to be this cute face ready to attack, and hug, and lick, and play. And he is one good cuddler.
18. Screw love, I'm getting a dog.
19. I secretly, well secretly until now, LOVE the McChicken Sandwich at McDonald's. I'm not sure why, but its on of my silent indulgence's.
20. You cannot make people do things they do not want to do. While they may do it, they will essentially resent you.
21. I'm not sure how you spend your whole life anticipating it to follow a certain standard or guideline and in a split sent all the rules are out the window, but it happens everyday.
22. There is beauty in the breaking.
23. It takes 10 alarms and coffee just to lure me out of bed in the morning. Even then I hate the world.
24. Every person should have good towels, the kind that wrap around your entire body.
25. Why pay for a pedicure, when you can just walk on the beach.
26. I crave the feeling of sunkissed skin all year.
27. I have accepted the fact I will never be skinny, and I'm ok with that. I can run 5 miles, eat healthy, enjoy life, and occasionally score cute companions.
28. I have a to do list for this year. 1 and 2 coincide ... finish the book and visit Savannah, really...the rest are just details.
29. Who is the tool that calls me from a restricted number.
30. Whoopi was right on many of life's lesson.

nasal dripage

Sinus = a pitfall in society.

Currently, my sinus have felt the need to drain in a largely obnoxious manner. If I could have tripped myself running this morning to end the brutality I probably would have. But instead, I decided to suffer in silence. Well, maybe not silence considering in had lost all ability to breath out of my nose and the Victoria Falls of snot had decided to drip down my face. Endearing, I know.
As I watched all the Nike clothing and tennis shoe clad people pass me, I quickly wondered why I was the only person stopping to blow my nose every 5 minutes, and everyone else was running blissfully with the face of a runners high.
Quite frankly, it was pissing me off.
Apparently my nose hates me, not that I have much control over that, but I do not prefer running with a wad of tissues or chance drip-page seeping into my chest cavity because I keep sniffling. MMMMMMMM.
I suffered through 4 miles, I suffered in pain. By the end my cheeks even heart.
And now, all I have to say....I better beast this 10K in March.
And there better not be drippage, or else I'm taking DayQuil and Sudafed at the same time and running the 6 miles on sheer adrenaline.