Recount

Midnight // NYE 2012/2013 // The Avett Brothers

Ah, it's that time of year again when all us bloggers recount whether or not we stuck to our guns and actually completed our resolutions. As you know, this is a blog about getting things done........ so here's hoping I haven't royally screwed up and completed, say, ZERO of my resolutions.

At the beginning of 2013, I resolved to do only slightly more than a handful of things. Here's the entry, but if you're not one to muck about in archives, here's a quick recap of the list:

1. Be a better adult.

2. Stay a better friend.

3. Have more patience and understanding.

4. Overcome MORE fears.

5. Be even more efficient.

6. Accomplish all my little goals in between without resolving to do them.

7. Just be.

Wow. Lofty goals, January 1st Rachel. Talk about setting high expectations for myself. Never one afraid to fail, I normally push further than I should. Let's see how I fared, shall we?

1. Be a better adult.

I am by no means a model adult. I may not even be a mediocre adult, but I have damn sure come a long way this year. I've learned so much about reliability, and even more, how to BE reliable. I've learned to keep running, even when I'm knee-deep in heavy Carolina clay, knowing I have to reach the other side. I've taken jobs I didn't want, left jobs I wanted to continue, and doubled-down on school and work, putting my social life lower on the list than in years past. While I've mentioned I'll always be a "family/friends first" kinda gal, I finally figured out how to maintain that moral of mine while accomplishing great things and being responsible. I even have some money! .......... for now.

2. Stay a better friend.

I am a yo-yo better friend. There are periods of time in which I have a LOT of free time to spare; others where I barely have enough time to eat and sleep, let alone make some phone calls. I could do a better job, but I think I haven't slipped TOO far back into yesteryear when I was always not such a great friend. Better to maintain than fall behind, even if I wish I could've hit this one out of the park. There's always next year when I get out of my Master's program!

3. Have more patience and understanding.

Oh, lord help all of you. Whereas I have gained so much of this in the career arena in my life, I admittedly have lost a lot of it in the personal domain. I'm sorry if I've been snippy or bitchy, perhaps spacey or annoyed, but I have poured all of my patience and understanding into over 100 kids. They need it most right now, and I am going to work very hard to squeeze some of that patience over to my loved ones in the coming year. Now that I know HOW to be patient, I have to learn how to BALANCE that patience. I have to understand others in the ways I always hope they understand me! But hey, I hope my students can at least attest to the fact that I almost never lose my temper. And when I do, they know weird things like town hall meetings will occur.

4. Overcome MORE fears.

Thanks to my newest project, 26 Gonnas for 26, I have definitely been visiting this resolution time and time again in 2013. I've sung publicly at karaoke bars; I've gotten back into modeling and ENJOYED IT; I've publicly and privately let go of toxic relationships. There have been a lot of fears I've conquered that aren't even on the 26 for 26, which brings me to...

6. Accomplish all my little goals in between without resolving to do them.

Yeah, I know. I skipped 5, but we'll get to that'n. Six and four pair well together like a good cheese and a fine wine, ya heard? There were so many moments this year that I found left me feeling so bold, so brave, and so utterly proud of myself. Overcoming fears, some of which I didn't even know I had, was a lot easier in 2013 than in the past. Maybe it's because I was so successful at resolution number one, but pushing forward into the unknown was just not as horrifying in '13. I'm not saying it wasn't sweat inducing to call my favorite co-workers ever to tell them I was offered a new job, and I'm not saying it wasn't horrifying to meet, learn, and teach over 100 strangers in the middle of the school year... but I am saying that it was exponentially less disastrous than it would have been a year ago. And you know what? I found out I'm a lot BETTER at most of the things I'm scared of than some of the things I feel "safe" doing. What's more is I didn't feel the urge to tell anyone about these things (well, until now). I didn't feel like I had to make a list, at least not publicly. I didn't feel like I needed to have support to overcome my fear, something that is altogether new for me. While there are still some giant hurdles like flying and singing in public without a cheesy backup machine that WILL require a little hand-holding, learning to go solo into fear this year is what got me over the need to publicly resolve to accomplish every tiny morsel my brain cooked up.

5. Be even more efficient.

Welcome back, five! You tie into resolution one pretty well, sir. While I believe there's always room for improvement when talking efficiency, I truly figured out and utilized it this year. If you remember, I started to see some vague progress in this field when I resolved to be efficient in 2012. This year, though, I really FOUND efficiency like it was the god damn Lost island I'd been screaming about returning to. (Lost reference anyone? Anyone?) I am much more organized than I was a year ago. I even have plans for further organization, some I utilized earlier this very week. I used to shy away from changing my methods for better ones for fear they'd be worse; now I trust my instinct and know the HUGE list I have for improvements will all work out, and they will all be better, 100 fold.

7. Just be.
Herein lies the crux: how can I just be if I always see so many things I must resolve to make better? Is it possible? Or must the two forever be at odds? I like to think I've just been a little more than I was in 2012. That's not to say it has been a meditative, peaceful-as-fuck kind of year. Actually, it was pretty hectic... but there are some things this year I have let go of that I wouldn't have DREAMED of getting past 365 days ago. It's hard, being forever anxious (medically), finding out how to just be. And even though I didn't complete this goal, I'm happy to say that over the past three weeks, things have been falling out of the sky and into my lap in regards to what I need to finally, truly just be. I've been finding answers to questions I've had for a long time, and I've been finding inspiration, reinforcement, and even new standards for myself I will not budge on... ever. And that, ladies and gents, is what I believe the first step to just being is: being yourself.

I'll be back after the first of the year, hopefully with amazing tales of New Year's festivities, a list of resolutions, and... drumroll... big news about the blog and its future.

Have a magical transition from 2013 to 2014! I'll see you on the other side ;)

Number 13

13. Finish writing a book with C.

At the end of May, C and I sat down over glasses of (one of) our favorite wine(s), and she asked me one of my favorite questions any one person can ever ask:

Will you write with me?

Specifically, she asked me to help her write a particular story she was burning to tell. It was a true story, but she planned to change names and embellish, making it what we dubbed faction (fact + fiction). So with the doors open, candles burning, and our planners wide open, we made a way to find enough hours over enough days to finish a book by the end of 2013.

The deadline, while unrealistic to some, was good for us. We both needed the pressure of a due date, but we didn't need to feel so pressured that we caved and gave up. Giving the book as a gift for Christmas was a perfect reason to finish, as well as a solid goal to work toward.

The process began pretty regularly: Wednesdays after work, there we were, writing and editing. We quickly realized that since it was her story, she should spend the week writing, and our time together would be spent editing and adding whatever I thought would be helpful or funny. We pedaled along pretty quickly with a title and 15 single-spaced pages before life interrupted.

Between our vacations and family get-togethers together (she's J's sister), we had events to tend to separately as well. She was embarking on a new journey of competitive running, while I was balancing my work and school. It started to look like someone was conspiring against us and our words, but somehow we still always found a way to meet. In some instances, we had to move the time; others the day. There were even some missed weeks here and there, but somehow we found ourselves in the dead of fall, 30 single-spaced pages in.

At the beginning of November, I was in full-blown new-job mode. On top of that, I had to balance a full load of grad classes. Inconveniently, Thanksgiving found its way into our schedule as well. We saw each other only twice that month, a striking difference from the normal 4-8 times a month we had seen each other since living in the same town. I felt horrible, not only for abandoning C, but for abandoning our book. It was our baby.

December rolled around, and shortly thereafter, I got an email from C.

"IT'S FINALLY DONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I knew she had been writing, but the last time I'd seen her, our little novella lay in the 30-something range. The piece she had just sent me was 20+ pages longer..... and all that was standing between releasing the book to our friends and family was my editing every single word with the same diligence I'd had in prior months. The only problem was I also had hundreds of papers to grade AND two giant projects due in less than a week. Shit.

In a zombified stupor, I got through all of my work duties and all of my projects. I started editing until my eyes bled, but it still took me three days to finish revising the final pages the way they deserved. I rushed over to C's house four days before her departure to the Great North where she'd be delving out the first round of the books on flash drives to the family. It was close, but somehow, we did it. And after all was said and done, we ended up with an 83-page novella.

Writing this little book taught me a lot about a lot. I had to learn to be ever-so-reliable because the success of C's story depended on my editorial skills. I had to learn to be patient because quality work takes time, despite my need for instant results. I had to learn to let go of the reigns because this wasn't my story, this was C's story. I had to learn how to work as a true professional team for the first time in my life because no one else has ever treated me as a professional equal before.

Our book might not be Gatsby or War and Peace, but it IS a labor of love (and a little Sedaris-y if I do say so myself). It is one of those gonnas we all talk about doing, and damn if we didn't actually do it.

I am glad I got to help my friend tell her story, but most of all, I am glad to know that with a solid friendship, anything is possible.

If you're interested in reading our little tale, I have a PDF version ready and raring to go! Email, as always, is imgonnadothatgirl@gmail.com.

Positiveville

Taking a cue from the lovely Kacey, I'd like to take a break from my regularly scheduled blogs filled with (oft-negative) venting and life-coaching (from myself?) just to write a nice, thankful, happy entry. I suppose it would have made more sense to ensure this coincided with Thanksgiving, but to hell with it all! Everyone tried to skip right over one of the most scrumptious holidays this year anyway...

AH, negativity abounds already! Stopping, turning around, and heading back toward Positiveville.

Yay! Happiness is fun!

I really enjoy having positive arenas on the Internet to run to as a safe haven on bad days. I don't particularly know or care if that sounds strange because I have met some of the best people via (mostly) positive places like Tumblr and Blogger. It's nice to have a community full of people who love the same things you love, write about the same things you do, and support and love you without even meeting you. They see the raw nerves you bumble out onto some digital paper and still want to get to know you. How cool is that? I wish more people would embrace the positive community that DOES exist on these endless pages of web.

Speaking of, one of my old co-workers is doing it up successfully and creatively in the Big Apple. She writes a blog all about love, her addiction to it, her journey to overcome that addiction, and her relationship with the city. She recently featured me, along with many others, on her blog (another example of the Supportive Internets), allowing us to vent to a person from our past or present romantic life. Here's that entry; I'm the fifth one in the list!

Building off of that entry (so you should probs read it), I just can't further explain how thankful I am for my partner. I've written about that gratitude often, though not too often, as I like to keep most of our life private. But without him having my back, even on my shittiest of days, I don't know how I'd get through such a trying time in my life. Without him coaching me from the sidelines, yelling "Get back up, sports fan! You're not done yet," I would be weaker, less brave, and apt to quit. Even when I don't want to tell him he's right because of my bulldog-level stubbornness, I know he's the one person who has the same intensity to help me succeed in my self-proclaimed need for evolution. At the end of the day, he's the man I dream up ridiculous Vines with. That's that shit I DO like.

While some aspects of my job are... less than stellar... I so enjoy my students. They are hilarious, smart, and much more intriguing than half of the adults I've met over the course of my life. Even if we have a bad day, they are so astute; unlike most of us "grown-ups," they are ready and willing to apologize, move on, and still have a professional relationship. I hope they all keep that openness in their hearts as they go out into the world because it will get them so far in life. I can't wait to watch them grow up; I hope I can be a mentor to them for as long as they need me!

It's really pleasing to finally see a career path (or rather, paths) I can maintain and find happiness in. For a long time, I thought a lot of me is what needed to change. It's only recently I realized that while I do have to work on aspects of myself like my impatience and hot-headedness, a lot of what I saw as a schism in myself was just the void from never knowing what I really want to do for a living. For a long time, I had shut out my dreams and desires because everyone, from complete strangers to my friends and family, had dictated what "success" looked like. But now that I've stopped focusing on them and prioritized myself, now that I've gone through the career-wringer, finding out what fits me and what doesn't, what my strengths are and what I could use some help with... I see myself a little more clearly. Weird how we define ourselves through external things, only to realize that if we pay a little internal attention, we can find a wealth of clarification.

There's a lot more I'm happy about, like being able to spend copious time with my family over winter break, being able to afford heat in such a cold winter, and my new gym opening at the time of the year where I can use it the most. I could sit here all day and wax poetic about the positives in my life, but I have to return to the stressful, strenuous life of an always-tired, always-working, full-time student AND teacher........

LAWD HAVE MERCY ON MY SOUL! And please, try to remind me not to be such a Negative Nitwit Nancy.

Pulse Check

If remembering me after my admittedly prolonged absence is not too hard to do, you might remember I turned 26 a few months ago. In honor of that, I decided to evolve the gonnas once again into a cute little list of things I was gonna make happen in the course of a year. I've had the fortune of crossing one of the to-do's off my list multiple times, but I realized that as often as I pulse check my list, you guys might be a little left in the dark. Without further ado, here are my charts, people! Please feel free to peruse them, and definitely let me know if you see signs of infection or impending death.

1. Wake up with the sun at least 180 days over the next year.

I've only woken up with the sun for about a week total so far, but thanks to a new job opportunity, this gonna will slowly start melting away!

2. Fly to visit my sister in Japan.

Not yet, but truly hoping the aforementioned job opportunity will be my ticket to this gonna. I can't wait to see all the beautiful scenery in person I've seen in her photos so far.

3. Finish my screenplay.

I've made some progress here! I'm still closer to the start than the finish, but I am also further from the beginning than I was before.

4. Don't let items I have gathered to create a project sit on my shelf for more than 2 weeks... ever.

This 26-for-26 gonna has been an epic failure so far. I have reminded myself that with all that's going on, it's okay to let this goal slide....... but I still can't help but wish I had the time to stick to my guns. I have done a little better about downsizing and working on what I can here and there, but there is definitely room for improvement before next July.

5. Diagnose and solve my voice problems, then sing publicly when I have the all clear.

I have actually DONE the latter half of this goal (karaoke nights DO COUNT, especially when you sing Les Mis by yourself) without doing the first. While I feel liberated and more ready to tackle this goal, more than anything, I now know that there is absolutely a REAL problem with my voice, and I need to take care of it now rather than later.

6. Get my teaching license.

As long as I keep my nose to the grindstone (and learn to accept that a perfect 4.0 might not be possible with a full-time job AND classes), I should have my license in May!

7. Write one blog every week!

This is the one that really spurred me to update everyone since I obviously haven't been blogging weekly. However, I have been writing a little more here and there overall, which is really what's important to me. I think a more properly worded goal would be "Have 52 new blog entries by next year," meaning if I have the time to write five times in one week, I will. If I have no time to write for a month, that's okay, too.

8. Learn to drive a manual car.

My handsome teacher is currently out of stick-shifting commission, so this is on hold for the time being. 

9. Make 50 YouTube videos.

I've made one. ONE! I've got work to do...

10. Get over my fear of heights by climbing a lighthouse, ziplining, both, or more!

Whereas I once dreaded this gonna, I'm actually kinda looking forward to getting over this fear, or at least diminishing it in my mind. The question remains: what exactly will I be doing to get over this fear? Skydiving is out, but I'm open to other suggestions, y'all.

11. Teach someone something life-changing.

Hopefully I will be doing this every day in my new position. And hopefully, it'll be somewhat tangible so I can report back here.

12. Make a Southern road trip to Texas and back.

See #2.

13. Finish writing a book with C.

We are so, so close to finishing this gonna. We have a self-imposed deadline of early December so we can distribute these bad boys as presents. It's so crazy to think that months ago, this story was just an idea, and now, it's almost finished!

14. Learn how to sew.

I have no idea how to even begin this one, but I REALLY, REALLY want to learn. Help?

15. Go legit camping for a weekend with J and the pups.

This has almost happened a handful of times, but life keeps getting in the way. We must make a note to ignore it for a weekend before it gets too cold!

16. Spend more time with my family.

I feel like I've been doing this, but I don't think I'll be able to properly gauge this until next July when I see the progress I've made over the course of a full year.

17. Do some photoshoots (at least one!) with a professional photographer.

18. Get something published.

I've found some contests for publishing, but so far, none of my already written material meets the criteria. Since I'm not in the position to write something brand new, the search continues... for now.

19. Raise $500 for my business, Southern Sheek.

I haven't raised anything so far. I'll most likely have to save this gonna until closer to the end of the year!

20. Do a Goodwill-level cleanout every 3 months until I only have what I (for the most part) need.

I have done this in off-beat ways, but there is definitely more to do before I can cross this off my list in good faith. I've been consigning some of my stuff with my favorite local store, as well as gathering random items here and there before loading them in bags in my trunk. I guess I need to actually make my way to Goodwill now, right?

21. Let go of toxic people in my life.

I've had to do some of this already, but whether I've really cleaned out the toxicity closet (and whether I've done it well) remains to be seen.

22. Make a weekend trip to a new place, any place.

I've made a lot of weekend trips, but none to a new place so far! Still waiting to find the perfect, cheap destination.

23. Write and send fanmail to all those people who have inspired me along the way.

I have addresses; I just need to get to writing!

24. Meet a sloth!

I actually attempted to do this with J, and my friends L and B, at a local science museum...... BUT THE SLOTH HAD INEXPLICABLY BEEN MOVED TO THE AQUARIUM, which was under construction. P.S. Sloths are great swimmers, so I mean, I GUESS I GET IT, but I really almost cried.

25. Really make 10 people's day - five of whom I know and five strangers.

Hopefully I've done this without knowing, but now that I have the means to pay it forward, I'm really going to try and do a better job.

26. Be thankful and say so at the end of every day.

Despite this one seeming so easy, it's actually the hardest for me. Most days, I am thankful and say so. But there are days when {most} everything seems so bad that it's hard to remember to be grateful for the things that remain intact. I have been doing better lately, and I'm hoping I've trained my brain to stay in that spot of thankfulness.

Forgiveness is More Than Saying Sorry

Aside from being an obviously sublime piece of music, forgiveness really is more than saying sorry. You have to show it. You have to mean it. You have to want it. But lately, I've realized the most important thing about forgiveness is that you have to be able to forgive yourself for NOT forgiving everyone and everything.

I know, I know. We're taught to rise above. We're encouraged to follow all those pretty little quotes floating around the Internet, reminding us that holding onto anger or whatever the hell it is we're hugging close, hurts the collective us more than the collective them. And mostly, that is true. It wouldn't be a cliche if it weren't. But there are some people, some things, you just don't have to forgive. It's not law. And you know what? It's also not wrong. It doesn't mean you're holding on to hate or violently cursing the accused's name every night. It just means you have decided to let go without giving said offender the gift of absolution. You're not required to, and you never were.

I've been thinking about the people who have wronged me over the years. Some of them definitely deserve my pardon, while others deserve to suffer some kind of moral penance. On the flip side, I know there are people who will probably never grant me clemency for some of my crimes on them, while others deserve and would most likely accept an apology.

So no, I don't forgive you for alienating me before moving out on me and leaving me thousands in debt. I don't forgive your behavior, and I don't think you should be allowed to forget how many people you hurt in the wake of your departure. You are not forgiven.

And yes, I am sorry for what he did to both of us and how it made me treat you. If I had known, I wouldn't have been a participant. I hope you get out one day. One day...

So no, I do not accept your half-ass warning/apology about bringing me into your psychotic public breakdown, invading my rights to privacy. I don't think you deserve to be forgiven by anyone for what you did. You are not a good person; I do not give you a reprieve.

And yes, I am sorry for whatever drove us apart. Some of it was me, and some of it was you, as it always is in those kind of fizzle-out-friendships. I hope you're as happy as I am now, and maybe we can sit together over junk food and talk about it all again one day. One day...

So no, I do not forgive any of you for making me believe I deserved less than I did. I do not forgive any of you for taking advantage of every part of me. I do not forgive you for trying to hold me down, hold me back, hold me away from the light. I will never release you from your deeds.

And yes, I do forgive myself for all the times I thought I had to forgive these people, all the people, for the things they'd done to me. I forgive myself for holding on too long and for letting go too fast. I forgive myself for not standing up when I should have and not sitting down when I could have. I forgive myself for not knowing how to forgive, when to forgive, if I should forgive. Of greatest importance, I forgive myself for not always trusting myself, for not believing I knew what was best for me, even when the world told me to hold on or let go.

I forgive myself most of all because without the forgiveness (or lack thereof) I gave, I would not be who I am or where I am today. And today, well... I don't have a reason to apologize or forgive. Today, I've learned to live unapologetically and unforgivingly as... me.

Keep It To Yourself

by the fabulous KateorDie (click here for full comic)

There's a consent problem in this world. And no, I'm not jumping on the let's-look-into-a-song-more-than-we-should-instead-of-using-that-energy-to-address-more-time-sensitive-feminist-issues-like-supporting-and-caring-for-actual-rape-survivors train. I'm talking about the thing that proceeds rape, or stalking, or sexual harassment, or invasion of privacy and self in other ways. I'm talking about the cat-call, and even more threatening, the stare down (sometimes accompanied with the even more scary moving-in-close).

There is something incredibly grating about getting cat-called, but more than that, it is the first step in a violent trifecta of behavior men (and some women) in general think is okay. That last part is what blows my mind. Men do it because they think it's just fine to yell whatever crass and moronic shit they can at a woman in close proximity.

Twice today, I was cat-called while I was in my car. I was listening to a podcast featuring Edgar Wright, Simon Pegg, and Nick Frost. I had just gotten off work. It was Friday, and I was in my personal space. I was looking straight ahead at the stoplight, laughing at my radio, and minding my own fucking business because it's my right to decompress after work. Unfortunately, some nongentleman beside me started yelling at me through my open window.

I ignored him. It was not my job to respond to this asshole, though many women often feel pressured to do so due to the acceptance of this bullshit in our country and our female guilt complex. Despite my efforts to deny him access to my life, he only got louder until he seriously screamed at me, jarring me out of Podcast Land, and straight into Bitchmode Land. I looked at him as unruffled as I could, saying nothing.

"Hey, anybody tell you you were cute?"
Insert my pissed off, know-it-all, Leslie Knope-angry face.
"Uh, yeah. They do. What the hell?"
"WELL YOU ARE! YOU ARE!"
Without exaggeration, he started laughing maniacally.

Luckily, my light had changed so I could leave, but I was instantly rage-crying. (DON'T ACT LIKE YOU DON'T KNOW!) Just as I was back in my happy place of podcast, it happened again closer to home. I ignored the unwanted suitor until he HONKED AT ME. I just shrugged and pulled off as the light (luckily) changed again.

What right did these strangers have to interject themselves into my life? What right did they have to use their "physical male dominance" to scare me into responding? None. The answer is none.

I've dealt with this most of my life, and learned early on to ignore it and keep a vigilant eye and ear open, but when does it become not my problem anymore? When does it become the problem of the violent, rude, sexually abusive men who do these unacceptable acts? The answer should be now, but it's not. It never is.

Stop staring us down like you want to eat us. Stop yelling at us like we owe you something. Stop borderline running towards our cars when you ask us for a ride, but we ignore you, looking for an exit ASAP. Stop calling us bitches when we DO respond and tell you no and/or to fuck off. Stop using your self-percieved strength to threaten us. Stop "giving us compliments" we don't want or need.*

We don't owe you a single iota of anything. Keep it, all of it, to yourself.

*unfortunately, all true incidents i have encountered

The Extraordinary

Everyone knows I'm not afraid to publicly discuss my life on this blog o' mine, at least to some generic extent. Everyone knows I try to say, if I can help it, just what I think, feel, don't feel, feel TOO MUCH, etc. However, this blog has shielded one section of my life a little because it's the section of my life I hold most dear, most private, most beloved. I mention my relationship from time to time because it's a HUGE part of my life, but you're not going to hear, say, what we ate for and talked about at breakfast this morning or what new life moment we experienced hand-in-hand last week. Sure, I let some details out here and there because I'm proud of who I'm with and what we've done, but all those details and intimate moments? That stuff is for us. That stuff is supposed to be just for us. That's the beauty of choosing to be with one person in a world of monogamist nay-sayers, conquering them and the world in general with your silent, yet steel-strength bond. You find love in a hopeless place, or better yet, actual privacy in a social media state.

However, most outsiders think having a life just for us is slightly abnormal, if not completely weird, and most puzzling, somehow an omen of dullness and/or unhappiness. So I'm here to set the record straight once and for all, and for one time only.

I am in love with my best friend. I have been for two years. We have lived together and apart. We have fought, and we have overcome. We have always been the topic of controversy, whether justly or truthfully so, yet we have always ignored the hell out of it. We have always been deeply in laughter as much as we are deeply in love, even when it looked like things were falling apart. We have never offered explanation nor description of anything; we have always, always, always been private. We have been private from the beginning because being private means having something special no one can touch or take away from you. Being private means being truly intimate with one person, not the world as a whole. Being private means being fulfilled within your relationship, not outside of it. Being private means discovering just how deep you love the person, not the idea of them.

Lest I hear another person ask me how this or that works in a now long-distance-but-barely-distanced relationship... it just works, alright? Do you want to know why? Because we talk to each other, not everyone else. We talk about everything, even the stuff that pisses us off, because when we wake up the next morning, everything we have said was to make the other person better. Make them happy. Make them know that just because there's a measly couple of hours between us, we still care about the other person more than anyone else, without agenda. And all the stuff we talk about, and do, and say, and plan, and dream in those conversations... we keep it to ourselves.

And you know what? That might not be ordinary to you, or ordinary period. But it is something. Something even better: extraordinary.

I'll share what I want to share when I want to share it. More importantly, I'll only share what I know he doesn't mind me sharing, because you know what's most important – more important – than this blog, than your opinion, than anything? Him.

Damn if that is not the best lesson he has ever taught me, and to learn it, the best decision I have ever made.

Happy 2 years, J. I love you and I like you.

Wouldn't It Be Nice?

Life would be much more enjoyable and pleasant if everyone had a British accent. Enjoy this as much as you can between the egregious audio and video. I fully blame the PC I have to use until I get a new charger for my Mac.

Jolly good!

26 Gonnas for 26!

Happy July, everyone! This is one of my favorite, yet busiest months. Birthdays, parties, holidays, vacations, and anniversaries like Oprah is handing them out -- one for you, and one for you, and one for YOU! I'm going to be on the run most of this month, but I won't leave you hanging without entries. However, they'll be on a sort of off-kilter timeline. Can ya dig?

With my birthday looming in a mere 11 (almost 10!) days, I decided to kick off the month with a birthday-related gonna challenge... for myself. I mean, overall, 25 was great. It had marvelous moments, but also dark ones. I went through a bit of a quarter-life crisis, and though I'm sure it's not completely done with me, the crisis is definitely on the waning end of a decline. But you know what? I'm ready for better than great; I'm ready for amazing.

After reading this article, it didn't take me long to figure out what I wanted to get myself for my name day: my break; my second chance. Sure, I overcame a few of the bigger gonnas I'd set up for myself in year two-five, but ever the perfectionist, I want to do better. Ever the believer of my own late bloomed-ness, I am hoping 26 is going to be my door-opening year. Every year after that will build on the success I hope know 26 will be. Happy sort-of-late-twentyhood to me!

1. Wake up with the sun at least 180 days over the next year.
2. Fly to visit my sister in Japan.*
3. Finish my screenplay.
4. Don't let items I have gathered to create a project sit on my shelf for more than 2 weeks... ever.
5. Diagnose and solve my voice problems, then sing publicly when I have the all clear.
6. Get my teaching license.
7. Write one blog every week!
8. Learn to drive a manual car.
9. Make 50 YouTube videos.
10. Get over my fear of heights by climbing a lighthouse, ziplining, both, or more!
11. Teach someone something life-changing. **
12. Make a Southern road trip to Texas and back.*
13. Finish writing a book with C.
14. Learn how to sew.
15. Go legit camping for a weekend with J and the pups.
16. Spend more time with my family. **
17. Do some photoshoots (at least one!) with a professional photographer.
18. Get something published.
19. Raise $500 for my business, Southern Sheek.
20. Do a Goodwill-level cleanout every 3 months until I only have what I (for the most part) need.
21. Let go of toxic people in my life.
22. Make a weekend trip to a new place, any place.
23. Write and send fanmail to all those people who have inspired me along the way.
24. Meet a sloth!
25. Really make 10 people's day - five of whom I know and five strangers.
26. Be thankful and say so at the end of every day.

* Money allowing.
** Specifics to come when I figure it out!

I'm gonna do this! What are y'all gonna do this year?

My Father is Actually Sirius Black

Look at him.

Now look at Sirius, or read his description in the book.

Twinsies, right?

Like Sirius and James Potter were, my father, too, is schooled in the ways of silliness.

Okay, maybe these don't capture his essence of silliness that well if you don't know him, but trust me... HE'S UP TO SOME FUNNY BUSINESS!

He is also quite skilled in the arts of sneakiness and hiding, skills Padfoot honed at Hogwart's, but later found useful when on the run from demonic Dementors/all of the wizarding world.

As you can see, I don't really have the best arsenal of sneaky pics. That's because he's so sneaky (and because my stash of photos is actually at my mom's).

He lived in England. SO DID SIRIUS! He went to a school that was, um, BASICALLY Hogwart's. Here he is visiting a place in Ireland that looks sort-of-but-not-really like both.

Just like Sirius, my dad is a scholar but admits to goofing off much more than studying...

...and really thrives off of the good adventure more than the good book.

He used to work at this library in Liverpool (scholarly), then returned to visit (ADVENTURE-Y)!

And – SPOILER ALERT, BUT IT CAME OUT LIKE 8 YEARS AGO – if Bellatrix hadn't killed her cousin and robbed Sirius of his life (RIP!), Sirius would have been the best dad to Harry. And just like the Sirius I believe still lives on behind the veil, my dad has been the best dad to me!

If you look closely, you will see my father's hands. I am crushing him with my then 24-year-old wine drunk weight. GOOD DUDE!

Oh, and also, he's ACTUALLY a wizard.

Happy birthday and Father's Day, Papa Bear!

My Mom v. Diane Keaton

Well, I had drafted parts of this before Mother's Day with every intention of doing a cutesy, yet somewhat humorous, shoutout to my Moms. But then finals week slammed me, and my alma mater aka my sister's undergrad school decided to hold her graduation ceremony ON MOTHER'S DAY...... rude. RUDE!

But this comparison is one well known among our family and friends, one that my sister and I make as often as possible, especially when we find some new and hilarious way in which my mother and Diane Keaton are alike. (Wait, did I say alike? 'Cause I'm pretty sure they are one.) So even though Mother's Day has come and gone, this oldie but goldie comparison model is one that is here to stay.

1. They both get hilarious after a glass of wine.

2. They both dressed like this in the 70s. (Mom would want me to note that she dressed this way before "Annie Hall" was even a glimmer in Woody Allen's eye.)

My sister can look like young Woody sometimes, but that's another entry...

3. They both look like this now.

4. They are both neurotic, but in that adorable Diane-Keaton-as-an-overprotective-frazzled-mom-in-a-movie way.

5. Did I mention they look alike?

6. Goofs (by themselves, or as pictured, with their pals).

7. No, but I mean like, seriously, they're both from Planet Babe.

8. They are both strong, smart, creative women who note the importance of skincare, education, women's (and others') rights, cute fashion, and how dumb men can be.

LUV U LADIES!

The Truth About Grad School

Thinking about grad school? Laughing about the fact that I'm IN grad school? Well, whatever the case may be, here are six things I learned during my first semester in upper-level education:

END OF SEMESTER GLORY!

I'm as brain dead as a bird who flew into a window, but I'm so excited to have an entire summer ahead of me with time to write and write, then read and read. That day ain't today, because I'm going to watch some shitty T.V. while passing out... babysteps, you know? In the mean time, enjoy some photos of times recent and get ready for some scribblings in the very near future!

Like MacLaren's

Lady-friend-for-life W and I were marathoning How I Met Your Mother after a particularly taxing couple of weeks. There's solid comfort in the laughs the gang doles out episode after episode, but we realized there's something else that truly makes us feel comforted in the arms of HIMYM.

All of us want a MacLaren's. We want a place where "everybody knows our names," but we know we can't really claim Sam and Diane. Instead, we have Ted and Robin and Barney. We have their dynamic to strive for, their bar to covet. We want the friends who come with MacLaren's, the ones who become family. Most of all, what we really want and what MacLaren's really represents is stability, that something to count on.

MacLaren's gives us those stable things we want. We want a place to call home. We want people who can give us consistent love and constant laughs, who will be there for us through the bigger things in life that are more frequent now than they were 5 years ago: marriage, death, break-ups, promotions, lay-offs, babies, infertility, and the changes changes changes so fast that we've learned to take them as we go, even when we're not ready for them.

In fact, the fact we want stability is one of those changes we have to take in stride. We have to realize we're not losing anything by being stable, and we're not losing ourselves by hoping for it. Even the freest birds like having a place to land.

The best part about the idea of a MacLaren's is that it gives us a place to remember to let loose, even though we're settling down. The two might seem impossible roommates, but if we can come to terms with the fact that fun when we're 25 is different than when we were 21, the two can live together harmoniously. And you know what? It's okay that fun is different... better even! It has to be; otherwise, we'd be horny, inconsiderate, blacked-out assholes for the rest of our lives. And that's okay for a while, but when we reach a certain age, trying to hold on to the ideals of the past, grasping to this lifestyle of younger (wo)men, we miss all the new kinds of fun of mid-20-something-ness.

Most of all, if we don't let go of then, we miss out on the stability of now. We miss out on the people around us who are starting to crave routine. We miss out getting to meet our people every night after work for beer and life chatter. We miss out on Ted, and Marshall, and Legen... wait for it... dary! Barney Stintson. We miss out on MacLaren's. And look at them:

Don't you just know you'd regret it forever if you missed out on MacLaren's?

Catching Up With March

The thought of not having a single post for the month of March sent me into a tiny panic, especially considering that my my two-year blogiversary was on the 15th of this month. Yay, go me, wish I could have given it a big how-de-do like last year! But I guess two years isn't as exciting in blog anniversaries as it is in relationships, sobriety achievements, or employment security, at least not when you haven't been able to blog much, if any, lately.

Right now, I'm working on a huge field study for one of my classes on my Spring Break. Did I mention that Spring Break in grad school is kind of a joke? Thus far, I've done three classroom observations, caught up on housework, helped J move, and worked on the four papers I have due shortly after returning to class next week. I've been daydreaming about warm beaches and fruity drinks a lot, but it's not the same as the real deal.

Oh, did I mention I moved earlier this month myself? S and I got kicked out of our old house by the aforementioned banshee of a roommate for various reasons, including but not limited to a coffee maker. It was an added stress to us in every way to have to relocate, but now that we have our own cute, little cottage without drama and with plenty of working appliances, we're much happier. Even my dog is palpably more happy.

I have so much to say, but the inability to remember it. The only thing fueling my exhausted brain these days is coffee, so instead, enjoy these things I've been into lately:

Yeah, but what about the 89 OTHER body types? God, fashion designers, you stress me out.

The overwhelmingly positive response from most of the country concerning gay marriage rights.

Actresses Without Teeth, in one of those "This is so horrifying, it's uncomfortably funny" kinds of ways.

All the Game of Thrones press leading up to the third season premiere. TOMORROW, TOMORROW, I LOVE YOU, TOMORROW. YOU'RE ONLY A DAY AWAYYYYYY.










Seeing Sara Bareilles in May, and seeing John Mayer in September. (His tickets aren't on sale yet, but I'm trying to have some positive self-fulfilling prophecy go on here...)

Master Adult ADHD

I'm not a stranger to throwing around medical terms, whether for hypochondriac or hyperbolic purposes. I know quite a bit about quite a lot of them, so they're used in daily conversation without a thought. But as I've been sitting in front of my homework for hours... again... I've wondered... again... if I really might have this horribly inconvenient ailment.

You won't be surprised to hear that I WebMD'd that shit as soon as I got the chance between classes and homework and dog mommying and supergirlfriending and roommating. It seems I've won the symptom lottery:

Anxiety! Chronic boredom! Difficulty controlling anger! Difficulty concentrating when reading! Procrastination (aka this)! Low frustration tolerance! Mood swings! And the kicker, self-reporting psychological maladjustment more often!

But then I'm like "Look, girl. You have anxiety because you have an anxiety disorder. You're angry 'cause you have a crazy ghost of a third roommate. You're frustrated easily because you're as clumsy as those poor "before" folks on infomercials. You procrastinate because it's easy, you self-diagnose 'cause you're a hypochondriac, and you are chronically bored because...."

Wait... why am I chronically bored? I am literally ladyballs deep in schoolwork. My Roku is full to the brim with all of my favorite relaxations. I have a dog to play with, friends to grab coffee with, a boyfriend to drive crazy/love/the same thing/amiright?, at least 25 things on my to-do list, and 50 books to read.

But wait... I can't read because I keep reading the same sentence for 10 minutes before I realize that I haven't turned a page. I have been a reader my whole life, and a fast(ish) one at that, and now I can't read 15 pages in less than an hour. Why can't I read?

Okay. Clearly I have an attention disorder then, right? It's cool. I guess I'll be modern and go to therapy. Get treated like an ADULT, you know?

WAIT! I don't have money.
WAIT! I'm going to get money soon.
WAIT! Even when I have money, I can't take any of the medicines they prescribe for ADHD due to my irregular heartbeat.

WAIT! Maybe I'll just have to rub some dirt in it, stand up, and get through it all anyway. Because I can. And when I can't, I have people who will pull me up and make me. And when I'm done, I'll have a Master's to show for it.

And all of you assholes will have to call me Master Jedi.

Taylor Swift Syndrome

Taylor Swift is ruining our lives.

Aside from dominating the iTunes Top 100 and therefore ruining my browsing pleasure, she is seriously and negatively affecting society. How you say? I'M GLAD YOU ASKED!

This girl, for some reason, has a great deal of power. She's like a baby Hitler for tween and teen girls, and no matter how much I protest, even some of my own gal pals. She pulls them in with her poppy (not country-y) songs and relatable lyrics, because let's face it, who hasn't been 15 and heartbroken? And if you grew up in the South, it's unlikely you don't have "Tim McGraw" in your music library, even if you're a 20-something who wants to teach the world about the dangers of Miss. Swift and her teardrop-covered guitar.

But these tunes are all propaganda for this darker, deeper thing that scares the shit out of me. T. Swift has been dubbed this cute little girl next door, but if Janis Ian taught me anything, it's that Taylor Swift is a mean girl. She is a mean girl in nice girls clothing, and she's doing a really good job of tricking a lot of people into believing that clothing is the real deal. That trickery is dangerous. That trickery makes girls everywhere believe it's okay to act the way Taylor acts. And the way Taylor acts is manipulative, disrespectful, and far from nice.

Of course I haven't sat down and discussed philosophy and ASOS with the girl, but I don't need to. I don't need to because she airs her dirty laundry via song, even if that means airing other people's dirty laundry, too. And trust me, you can tell a lot about a person by what they're willing to discuss publicly.

Taylor is of this breed of person who doesn't mind sharing her whole life with the world. That's fine to an extent, because she can choose to share whatever she wants with whomever. But when other people come into play, when other people's private lives get thrusted into the public eye just because they intersect with ol' Swiftys, a line gets crossed. When Taylor does things like discuss another woman's sexuality or directly name men in her songs, she is taking away the right of those people to choose what they want or don't want to share with the public. And that's bullying. That's disrespectful. That's mean.

That deeper, darker thing I mentioned earlier? The scary-as-hell thing that Taylor has done? She has created this environment where she is essentially giving the OK to put anyone who slights you on blast, simply for your own selfish wants, but turn around and say "Oh, but I'm hurt, I couldn't possibly share any of the blame, and it's totally fine because I'm the victim!"

Wrong. So wrong.

People are going to hurt you, my little ladies. You're going to get shit upon and jerked around, and probably even worse. But unless there is a true evil to expose – a molester, a rapist, a beater – you're not helping anyone, most of all yourself, by putting people on blast. You're just prolonging your own torment, creating it for others, and disrespecting the boundaries of other human beings.

Your private life is an amazing, beautiful thing. It's something you get to keep close to you and you alone. Once you give it to someone else, you taint it. You can choose to share things with the person you love or even thousands of people if that's your bag, but the choice should always be yours, and you should never feel like someone has taken away your right to privacy. You should never, ever feel like you're allowed to take it away from someone else. And you should never, ever, ever let Taylor Swift Syndrome let you think it's okay to be an asshole just to make yourself feel better at the expense of one or ten or hundreds of other people.

There might be a fleeting sense of satisfaction Taylor's way, but there is such a prolonged, beautiful, peaceful bliss in caring about other people's feelings, letting things go, and keeping your dirty laundry in the nice, warm wicker basket in your bedroom at home.

Don't let Little Miss. Swift pull that polka-dotted, J.Crew sweater over your eyes. Being a disrespectful dick isn't cool, no matter how rockin' your bangs are. In the words of some much better songwriters, let it be.