A Note on Change

A note on change, on finding yourself, rediscovering yourself, and revisiting old haunts as a new human. (The first thing I've written in a WHILE that's made it out of the draft and for-my-eyes-only journal-esque folder --Hi everyone!)

Tomorrow I start a 13 week contract at a hospital I worked at in December of 2014. It was an assignment that I took last minute, and which moved me from the Bay area to Los Angeles. At the time I was planning on staying 13 weeks, making some money, and then going back up north where traditionally the travel money is better. That was three years ago, and here I sit in my own West Hollywood apartment.

The contract this time was again last minute after a sudden change at a previous assignment. Such is the life of a travel nurse. Let's get the "I'm dreading-s" out of the way real quick. It's night shift, both a pro and a con because night-shift people are my people. Working night shifts is my absolute jam. Love everything about it. The reason it's in the dreading section is that my days off (four per week, so a majority my life) I feel like death warmed over and the only thing I have the energy to do is make it from my bed to the couch. It also means that I'll be precisely in the center of LA rush hour traffic -both getting to and home from work. It's only 17.6 miles, but in LA we don't measure distance in miles, we measure it in time. Which means it's approximately two hours away. No joke. Also, I hated the hospital. Since leaving the first assignment I had there I have deterred several nurses from going there because "it's an unsafe 3rd world refugee camp, an absolute danger zone for your license."

Now, because I like to focus on the positive, let's count the blessings. First of all, it's a job. And it pays well. The travel options are rough right now for some reason. There are many travelers who don't have a contract at all. I'm extremely blessed to have a job, let alone to have a job that let's me stay in the city I've fallen in love with --I don't have to move, change my yoga studio, hair team, coffee shop, the palm trees, the near-continual sunshine, meal-delivery plan, etc. Second of all, I loved the people that I worked with when I was there before. Third of all, the travel nurses mantra, "it's only 13 weeks. I can do anything for 13 weeks." Bonus for me, at the end of these 13 weeks I get to go to a much-anticipated yoga retreat in Bali. So there's that to look forward to.

Continuing the list of blessings, I'll get to make my own schedule for the most part. Which means that I can sign up to work every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. This is beneficial for several reasons. With the exception of getting to work Friday night, and home Monday morning, my commute will go from 2 hours to 45ish minutes. Which means more sleep for me. Also, in the world of people who routinely work weekends, pro-tip: doing shit on the weekends SUCKS!! Seriously. Going to target Saturday afternoon? No thanks. Try getting to the beach on a Sunday --way to crowded, and let's not even talk about the traffic. Dinner reservations on a Friday night? Ugh no thanks. All of these things are SO MUCH MORE ENJOYABLE Monday-Thursday when the rest of you souls are not doing them because you are at work or have to be at work early in the morning. So. Make my own schedule, work weekends, better commute, blissful days of complete freedom during the week.

This I broke down in my head fairly quickly after agreeing to the contract. What's getting to me now is trying to decide if it feels like a big step backwards. I was a COMPLETELY different person when I moved to my little apartment on the beach three years ago. The girl that moved to Hermosa beach was one who was relatively unsure of this new life she was fluffing out for herself. Not sure who she was or where she wanted her life to go.

The nurse that is going back is worlds more confident, sure of herself, four sizes smaller, her complexion is clear, her skin is soft and smooth, her eyelashes are longer, she laughs more, she smiles more. She's healthier & happier in all ways. She knows who she is and she loves herself. She's also debt free. That one was a goal she'd been working toward since traveling again. Everything else can be traced back to one tiny dot. The tip of the teeter-totter that swung my life in a better direction was a single visit to a hair salon. I'm not joking.

The day I walked in to Nine Zero One salon changed my life. My hair was a mess. It was long and heavy and split-in-not-just-the-ends. the color was dull and lifeless. It was literally doing NOTHING for me.  I walked in and I was nervous. Nervous that I wasn't good enough or 'cool' enough or 'pretty' enough to be there. After all, it's a salon for famous people. The girls at the front desk greeted me with genuine smiles and brought me back to the lounge to change into a 901 robe and wait for my stylists. I was instantly put at ease. I put the robe on and couldn't help but grin. This was a bucket-list item for me. Something I had to splurge on while I was in LA --getting my hair done at one of the premiere salons in the nation. I put the robe on, I waited with small bursts of residual nerves, and was eventually called back. I sat in Tim's chair and all traces of nervousness evaporated. Tim and Tabitha asked what we were doing cut and color wise and what I was thinking. I said I wanted to try a balayage for the color and to take several inches of the unhealthy part of my hair off but that I was open to suggestion. Talking to them was easy, I shouldn't have been surprised, but I honestly was. There wasn't a single note of pretension anywhere in the salon. Every single person there loved what they did and it showed. They all smiled, they all laughed and they all took an interest in YOU. I thought I would die when the salon owner (whom I had religiously instagram-stalked for years) came over and put her hands in my hair and told me what great hair I had and made sure I was happy, and told me how wonderful it was looking.  Before I left the salon with a head full of gorgeous hair, my life had literally been transformed. Several people while I was there looked me in the eye and told me with all sincerity that I was beautiful. I was not only told I was beautiful, but made to FEEL it. I WAS beautiful. And I was beautiful because I was me. I gained so much confidence and put effort into my appearance, because I'm worth it. My hair is healthy, beautiful, and SO well taken care of. And not only was I worthy of taking care of my hair, I was worthy of being healthy, exercising, and loving life. Needless to say the salon went from a bucket-list item to a necessity I will commute to no matter what time zone I'm living in.

I discovered hot yoga which changed my life in ways I can't adequately quantify. I learned to breathe. I learned to be. And to be still. I learned to be soft, I learned to be strong. I learned that you never know what you show up with each day until you try. I learned I'm stronger than I think. I learned that my body is amazing and capable of so much more than I give it credit for. My mind is healthy and calm, my body is fit and strong, my life as a complete whole is just... GOOD.

I've read countless books, been to two different countries, made SO many new and amazing friends, and I'm really just reflecting what a difference a few years can make. It's so strange to feel like you're starting over in a place you were at three years ago, but at the same time going back as a whole new person so it's really not starting over at all. I'm excited to see where this 13 weeks takes me, and how the people I left there three years ago have changed as well. Cheers to changes, cheers to growth, cheers to 13 weeks until Bali!!!

The nurse that left:

And the one that's going back:

Those Things We Tell Ourselves

On inadequacy... Why is it sometimes so hard to be kind to ourselves? Why is it sometimes so hard to believe that we deserve good things? Like, not just say we believe it and like all the nice quotes on instagram believe it, but like feel it deep in your soul at the very core of who you are believe it? There's a certain need to measure up. To be good enough, to compare. This is not ok. The need to measure up, the need to be good enough is not the same thing as always striving to improve. The subtle difference is in the intrinsic motivation. What are you trying to be good enough for? Who? Who says that you have to be 'good enough' for anyone or anything or any ideal? And why do we listen? Why do we internalize that? The truth is, you are good enough. Already. Right this second. Just as you are. One of my favorite accounts on instagram (@idillionaire) I found through the woman that owns the salon where I get my hair done. Today she posted a snipet that fit SO well with my post-yoga self discovery thought train that I had to share.

Stop beating yourself up. You are a work in progress --which means you get there a little at a time, not all at once. Little message for anyone who needs a reminder on trusting the process. Understand that patience means trust. It means you believe you'll receive the seed you've sowed. Don't let worry, fear, and anxiety make you dig up what you've planted just to see if it's growing. If you didn't know before there's a very important universal law called "The Law of Gestation" this law basically means that there is a natural process and order to things once they have been planted. This law works in nature; growing trees, food, and even all reproduction systems. The truth is right in front of our faces even if we don't pay attention. This is why we have to learn to respect and honor the process. When it comes to our goals and our dreams we expect things to happen, like, yesterday. And when they don't show up in the timeline that we want or the way that we expect, our doubts and limiting beliefs come into play. Our negative mind chatter creeps up and starts blurring our vision. You ave to believe that life is perfect and timing is life's best friend. Trust the process, and have faith in the unseen. The minute you decide on a goal or have a strong vision in what it is you want to accomplish, the energy starts moving through you and begins the work. Everything is in fruition! Your vision will be realized. Just believe!

We don't owe being 'enough' to anyone. As Erin McKean says, “You don’t owe prettiness to anyone. Not to your boyfriend/spouse/partner, not to your co-workers, especially not to random men on the street. You don’t owe it to your mother, you don’t owe it to your children, you don’t owe it to civilization in general. Prettiness is not a rent you pay for occupying a space marked ‘female’.” You don't owe prettiness to anyone. You don't owe measuring up or being enough to anyone. You deserve it. For you. You deserve to spend time on yourself. You deserve to have your hair done well.  You deserve the new lil gloss that makes you feel pretty. You deserve to feel pretty, you deserve to feel enough. For you. Not because you owe it to the world. Because you're you. And you deserve good things. You deserve to feel good things and to feel pretty when you're all dressed up and going out for the night, and when you're makeup free dripping rivers of sweat in a hot yoga class, and when you're eating ice cream watching tv at home alone. You deserve to eat good things, healthy things. You deserve to move and be healthy.

The little things we tell ourselves, even on an unconscious or subconscious level do some damage. I had a hard time at hot yoga today. I got dizzy a couple times, I couldn't find my balance on my right leg in any of the poses, and I couldn't get my brain to focus or connect with the breath or any one thing. My mind was racing to all the things to try to focus on -focus on the breath, tuck your ribs in, pull your tailbone in, ground through your feet-- flitting from one internal suggestion to the other without landing on any one in particular. As I was walking home I found myself wondering why it was such a difficult class for me today. The poses were the same, the teacher was the same and wonderful. The class was good, so what was it? Ultimately it is this deep seeded belief I've installed in myself that I'm not good enough. And as I strip away and let go of the layers and beliefs and bad habits I've gotten into I'm uncovering the deep hidden layers that weren't even on a conscious level yet. And it feels good to get down there, to strip away everything else and get to the center of who you are. The good pieces and the pieces that you need to reconstruct. Tear down and build again. There's such a freedom and a stillness that comes in self acceptance. In saying "Okay." Not in trying to change, but in those moments of realization, just feeling what you're feeling, listening to yourself and saying okay. The realizing and accepting what is and being ok with what is so you can build what you want, what you need. It starts with saying okay. Physically, mentally, emotionally. Okay, my body doesn't want to make that shape right now. Okay, let me just stay here for a minute. Okay, you don't feel like you're 'enough' for this person. Okay, let's feel that for a minute. What is it? Now let it go.  Be proud that you showed up today. And show up tomorrow and ask your body to make that shape again. And tell yourself that you ARE enough and believe it. Be enough for yourself and let that be all that matters. Let other people's opinions go. Show up for yourself. 

Late Night Thoughts

A quick note on staying. Part of the unspoken tribal 'rules' when I was growing up was this idea of staying. Family members that stayed close to home -next door or within a 30 minute radius- were lauded and praised, ones that ventured out as far as an hour or a couple time zones away were... not outcast, but it was different.  I just typed and then deleted several snippets of conversation I remember vividly from my childhood. Deleted because, that's not the point. I don't even think the thoughts or the words were a conscious thing. It's a several-generations deep basic instinct, part of the 'rules' that are unspoken among a group. Family or otherwise. There is nothing wrong with rules. Rules help ensure survival of the group. So staying. There is nothing wrong with staying. It's a beautiful thing.

When I was a small child, only able to speak a few words I had one phrase perfected. It was "No home!" Let me state clearly and without reservation that this was not a reflection on my home. I had the most lovely of childhoods with parents who loved me, and loved each other. I wanted for nothing. I was happy. Every time we'd be out running errands or shopping or whatever the day's tasks may have been, the story goes that I would protest loudly and repeatedly "No home!" from my carseat in the back of our car. No matter what route my parents tried to take, or where we started from, according to my mother I had a sixth sense that ALWAYS knew when we were heading toward home, and I was always down to stay wherever we were for longer. From the carseat.

Growing up I loved to hear this story --I mean, what an adorable kid right?! Lol. Who doesn't want to stay out shopping more even at 18months?!  Again, it's not that home was a bad place to be... but, there was so much more to see and do...

I've thought a lot in recent years that this in a quality that I never lost. The first time I went away on vacation --I was hooked. The first time I went to New York I literally went through withdrawals upon leaving for MONTHS. And so a traveller was born. For a while I found a place that I wanted to stay for a while. And I stayed. And I fell in love. And I fell out of love. And I stayed. And it felt like home. For a long time. And then before I realized that it wasn't home anymore I was miserable. I was a rockstar at a job that I hated. I had fallen into this old bred-deep idea that everyone had a place. That there was a home. A geographical location where everyone belonged. And you settled down and you did adult-y things like buy houses and establish pension plans. By the time I realized I needed out I was a shell of the strong woman I had become. I felt such a strong pull to be near to my family again. The thought of leaving my family had me in sobs and tears every time, so I moved my home. That gypsy soul was still lulled to rest by the concept of adulthood engrained in my brain. It was right to go home. At the time I thought I'd stay there forever. In retrospect, that was not meant to be. I was never meant to stay. I was meant to be there and to have the experiences I did. Of that I am sure. I am also sure that I was never meant to stay. Again, by the time I realized I was meant to go I had held on to the concept of staying and permanence longer than was healthy for my mental state.

The point of this (I do have one) is that I find myself at an interesting cross road. I've found a new place. I love this place. It feels like a lot of things that feel like home. I have a complete mental block on calling it home or on committing to stay. And I'm ok with that. Because staying is not for me. --geographically. I'm happier than I've been in years. I've lost 40lbs without trying. I have a core group of friends and coworkers that feel like family. I feel free. I feel right. I smile every day. Every day. Do you know why? Because I let go of the idea of staying. This idea of permanence is lost on me geographically. Do you know what's permanent in my life? People. My people. My family. My people here in LA, my people from Seattle, my people from New York, the people I met in these places are literally scattered all across the country now and with one soul-sister (in the literal sense of the term) even in Kenya. They are my permanent. They are my stay.

Sometimes it kills me to FaceTime with the people I love most in this world. I love my littles more than anything in this world and I treasure the time I get to see them --even if it's only on screen-- more than life itself. It's also hard. To not be able to go snuggle them and have them read me stories and do my makeup and see them play and laugh and grow in person. Sometimes that kills me.

People ask me all the time "When are you just going to sign on and stay?" Or "Where are you going next?" and few people understand "I'm not" and "I don't know." And that's ok. It's not for them to understand. I'm not sure I understand it fully. What I do understand is this. It's me. And I'm ok with it, and I'm ok with not knowing and not having it all figured out. I have a home. I have a permanent. I have a stay. Mine just looks different than yours. Mine is not geographical. Mine is my people. Someday I might have a geographical stay also. Who knows? I like my version of permanent just fine. If staying in one geographic location near my babies --my littles-- wasn't right, nowhere is.  There is SO much of this great big world to go and see!! I'll keep my 'home' within me, my people, and I'll continue to be just fine --as someone who inspires me daily says, 'Wherever you go... there you are. Living day by day... let's see where it takes me.'

You Learn To Live A Life

We make decisions every day in our lives. For the most part they're innocuous and mundane, but what if they're not. What if going to the drive-through Starbucks instead of the sit-down alters the course of you life? I mean, it probably wouldn't but WHAT IF?!  Then there are those decisions that you can put a pin in a singular moment of you life and say, "THAT'S it, that's the moment that changed my life." The visible sharp turn in the path of your life. Everyone has their own idea of destiny, fate, and/or the lack thereof. I'm a firm believer that "what is meant for ye shall not pass ye by" (said in an Irish accent) as told to me by the sweetest little old lady who was once a patient of mine. And if something's meant to be, it'll be. Even if you take a round-about way to get there.

Sometimes it's interesting to wonder what if. And think that in some parallel universe there's a me that went to med school that time I considered it and is an emergency physician in some metropolitan trauma center.  Living in a high-rise condo. In another universe there's a me that got married in college and has babies. In another universe there's a me who stayed in Seattle instead of moving to New York. In another universe there's a me who stayed in New York instead of going back to Seattle. All of the me's in these universes I'm sure are just as happy as the me in this realm. And in all the ways that matter, I'm convinced we'll all end up in the same place. Ultimately, the fallout from every decision you make is yours. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Overall, it's a pretty glorious picture, no? I wouldn't trade a single second of heartache and pain I've been through if it meant having to give up the a single good thing that came from each decision. I've learned to live a life. It hasn't been pretty, it hasn't been easy, it hasn't looked like I thought it would, and I wouldn't change a single second of it. Some days growing up is pretty darn awesome. Most days adulthood is really all it's cracked up to be. And the days that it's not I still wouldn't trade at the expense of those days. If you ever get the change to see this play, GO. In the meantime, I'll leave these lyrics here.

I didn't go to Vassar,

But to Smith, or Yale, or Brown

I ended up in Boston,

Or some small Alaska town

To practice law, or neuter cats,

Or fish the Bering Sea

Those lives are lived somewhere

By some other me

Some other me

Is homeless

Some other me

Is queen

Some other me has seen things that no other me has seen

If I met her I would ask her that one question we both fear:

Some other me

How’d we end up here?

...

Look down each road left untaken

Trace ev’ry turn and twist

The lives that we just let go by

The dreams we might have missed

Now we’re old enough to know that

One road ends where one begins

The moment where the “what might bes”

Turn into “might have beens”

On Goals & Air Mattresses

Today has been an interesting one. I've been having a hard time readjusting to working night shift. Or nightshift-ish since I work from 4pm-4:30am ...ya know what? Never mind, that's a night shift. I forgot how truly crappy you feel. I had become so used to feeling like a normal person that I honestly forgot what it was like. And the days that you work are fine, because you're in a routine. And when you work 12.5 hours a day plus a 30 minute commute each way that only leaves 9.5 hours for sleeping, eating, showering, and getting ready for each day. Plus social media, because priorities.

As I was saying, I forgot how crummy you feel on your days off when you want to do things during daylight hours and maybe even see some sunshine. Because if you were to keep your same schedule you kept for working days you wouldn't see the sun for more than 2 hours. And that's not enough time for human beings. Especially for human beings who have happily adjusted to life in LA where it's sunny 345 days of the year. So I try to switch back to a slightly more normal schedule without screwing myself over when it comes time to go back to work.

Today it was a big accomplishment that I was able to get myself out of bed, ready for the day and out the door to enjoy the sunshine by 1pm. I explored the Beverly Center and went for a walk up and around Melrose. Because I'm powerless to just walk by a Sephora without going in, and I'm powerless to go in without purchasing something, I came out with $250 worth of stuff I hadn't planned on getting; stuff that I now needed. Then because I have no food at my house, nor any desire to go to the store to purchase some, I got to-go food from Craig's. Because, treat yourself. It's my day off.

Then I came home and decided that I should look into getting actual furniture for my apartment. Yes, that's right I don't have any furniture. Besides a bed. Because, priorities. Seriously. I have an air mattress in my otherwise bare living room. So I started looking at Ikea online, found a couch, chaise, chair, and rug that I liked and that were reasonably priced. Then I took a quick check of the credit card balance I've been working on paying off. And almost got sick. Because I forgot about the car tune-up I had put on there. And the afore mentioned bed. A piece of advice for adulthood? Never settle for the cheap bed.

So I logged off the Ikea website and thought, "Ya know what, I don't need a couch." And I don't. Is that weird? I feel like adults should need couches. But why? I don't honestly miss having one. My air mattress works perfectly fine for sitting. I was going to get one because I felt like that's something an apartment owner (renter) should have. Because, reasons. For some people, it might be something they need, and that's ok too. For me, it simply isn't. Because I'd rather pay off my credit card than have a couch. I'd rather get my hair done at the nice salon than have a couch. I'd rather shop at Sephora and get takeout than have a couch (or grocery shop). For me, my house is a home without a couch. And maybe when I get a couple more things done from my goal list I'll get a couch from craigslist. Maybe.

I spent the rest of the evening talking online to a friend who lives in Toronto. Talking about people who motivate us and goals that we want to accomplish, places we want to see, things we want to do. And it was a nice reminder for me. I've been doing well with paying off my debt and on spending my money on experiences instead of things. I could do better. I've slacked a bit recently. So I vowed to myself to write my goals down. Bring back the vision board. Make my goals visible again. Write them on the bathroom mirror, tack them to the wall by the door so I see them every time I leave.

No one accomplishes anything of note without working their ass off. That's just the way it works. And if you work hard and go hard and push through the parts when it's easier to quit, greatness happens. Everyone has their different goals. Everyone is different. So decide what it is that you'd rather do. What are you willing to forego to get what you want. What do you want most? For me right now? Number one goal: paying off my debts. So that I can accomplish goal number two, the only one that ultimately matters: see the world. Goal one is a necessary means to accomplishing the end-goal of number two. I'll admit that sometimes Sephora and feeding giraffes and Disneyland get in the temporary way of goal number one. There's a fine line between keeping your sanity and going overboard. A girl can't live on free walks to see palm trees alone. Every once in a while treats are ok. I just need to be better at choosing ones that I want enough to make it worth my time. Re-buckle down, re-focus, re-group. Put your game face on, put your head down, and charge ahead full steam with your goals. What are you waiting for. (If you say January 1st our friendship is in jeopardy. My loathing for and refusal to believe in New Year's resolutions is another post entirely.)

State of the Union --Vulnerability Hangover Pending

LaFou, I'm afraid I've been thinking... A dangerous pastime-- I KNOW

I think I'm a better long distance friend than I am in person. There are very few exceptions to this rule. Very few people that I've allowed to see me vulnerable in person. That I've been completely myself around.  That I can tell the things that you don't tell other people to --the happiest thoughts and greatest fears and depressing thoughts. Tell them, like verbally, in person. I can count them on one hand. One literal hand. On the other metaphorical hand however, there are countless people that I keep in touch better with over long distance. Social media. Text message. That I can be more myself through written and digital communication only. And it's not them, it's me. At least mostly, I think. Maybe it's just another expression of my preference to compartmentalize my life?

...

I had a full on chest-tightness, palpitations, and tachypnea panic attack the other day in the middle of Wicked at The Pantages Theater in Hollywood. Why? Because I don't have a house and what if I don't have my house paid off by the time I retire --by the time my mom was my age she and my dad had owned a home for twelve years... and what if I don't have enough money saved for retirement and I really should be more... No, Stop. It's fine... Besides, it's not like I need to have money saved to put children through college, so there's that...

...

Running hasn't been enough lately. For the past few days I've woken up on the queen bitch side of the bed. None of my usual tricks work to snap me out of it. The other day I had met my four-letter word quota for the day before I had even opened my eyes thanks to the obnoxious tropical birds outside my window (first world problems) (and have you ever seen Failure To Launch?)

• Failure to Launch

   (2006)
  Buy at Amazon
• • Time - Phrase
  • 00:20:45 They can imitate car alarms, and telephones, and other birds.
  • 00:20:48 I called Animal Control, and you know what they said?
  • 00:20:50 They said I should just enjoy one of nature's most talented singers.
  • 00:20:54 -Yeah. -I'm gonna kill it.
  • 00:20:58 Okay, I'm all set.

Anyways, I stomped out of bed, caught up on the important goings-on of the world while I was sleeping (checked in with twitter and instagram) and grumpily decided to go for a run. It wasn't enough. My legs protested, my lungs burned, my stomach threatened to overturn itself and I was still mad at some unknown entity. So I kept going. I got to the end and still didn't feel any better, which just made me more mad --where were my endorphins dammit?! I threw my hands in the air and cried. Yep. Cried. Walking from the running path to the beach --tears streaming from underneath my sunglasses. And as if from nowhere I said to myself ...or maybe as a prayer of sorts... "I can't do this anymore! I can't do life by myself anymore, I need people!" Life is just hard sometimes, ya know? I kept walking, and kept crying, waiting for the sun-drenched sand to work it's magic. Then because God is funny, the next song on my Pandora was "Big Girls Don't Cry." Which actually did make me laugh... and the tears did stop. I appreciate humor. Then I made it to the beach and saw the most beautiful low tide, and I was ok.  I am ok, and I will be ok. Why is it so hard to need people?  Maybe I need to read THIS article again...

Time

Time is a funny thing. There is something in it's passing that takes away the negatives. At least for me. And I suppose this is a blessing. There are certain times in your life when you just reflect back and say, "You know what? That was really pretty cool. And I'm really proud that I was a part of that." And it's not that I don't see the good while I'm in the moment, because I do. I really do. I see the good. I feel the good. But there's this fierce part of me that is never satisfied with less than perfection. That chooses to focus on the flaws and the things that can be improved. This is both a blessing and a curse. I'm a generally positive person --or at least I was before working so closely to the general public... haha. Honestly though, it's not that I focus on the things that could go better to be negative, because I really do see the whole picture. I see the positive. But in the heat of the moment the deep rooted part of me that strives for perfection always and in all things points out all the things that need to be fixed. Things to make better. Things to improve upon for next time. Because as smoothly as things can appear to run there is always room for improvement. And I think that my brain picks these out in this continuous struggle to attain the unachievable perfection.

As time wheels away, round and around the memories go while the bumpy rocks and sharp divots get chipped off and smoothed over so what is left is a smooth round whole view of the situation as it was. And looking at the new smooth round memory reminds me to be more present. Accept things more as they come, in the moment. Perfection isn't a thing. As much as my stomach churns at the thought. It isn't. Perfection isn't real. The passing of the time doesn't make you forget the struggles and tears. But it does however put them in perspective. And what you're left with is a pretty damn good life.

I've done a lot in my 32 years. And I've been a part of some pretty damn amazing things. And I've complained about them. And I've struggled through them, and I've cried. A lot. Here's the thing though, perfection isn't real. The word "but" is grossly over-used. Things in life are rarely mutually exclusive. The last year was a rough one for me. It was such an interesting struggle. Because it was at once the most amazing slice of happiness -being closer to my family and being able to see my nephews grow up- and the worst year of my life. At the same time. Nothing has ever felt so fundamentally wrong on every level, and I fought it. because it also was amazing being so close to my family. And there were good things, there always are. So what now? What if being in the same state as your family is just absolutely not what you're supposed to do? What happens if the second you get in the car to drive away a two-ton weight is instantly lifted from your chest? I don't have answers. What I do have is a free and light feeling that whatever this is, it's right. And that's enough for now.

But time is a funny thing. Because when I saw this video that a former coworker made of the last year at Intermountain Medical Center what I saw was that we were pretty damn amazing. And we did and they do AMAZING things. And I'm so glad and so proud that I got to be a part of it. I don't see the collective hours I spent crying while having to put on my scrubs, and sitting in my car in the parking garage convincing myself to go inside. I don't feel the feelings of ...not fitting in. I don't remember the times I was astounded at the stupidity and narrow-mindedness. I remember that I worked for a world-class trauma center and that we saved lives. And that We. Were. Amazing. And I miss these people. We weren't perfect, but we were good.

A Fault in our Times?

Haven't seen that movie yet. Read the book and loved every word of sheer unadulterated reality. I did however, see Maleficent today. Good show. I couldn't help but wonder. Sleeping Beauty was pure magic for me as a child. It was my favorite, and still is to this day. So much so that when it was released from the vault and we got it on VHS when I was in high school, I watched it in the same sense of wonder I had as a child. I could tell you the exact spot and position I sat on in our living room when I'd watch it as a small girl. I had flashbacks of sitting at the table in my room listening to the read-along tape ...you know, the ones where the tape reads to you and prompts you to turn the page in the book with the magic fairy-like sound? I vividly remembered my favorite page in the sleeping beauty coloring book that I had as a small child. As 17 year-old me watched the movie these memories came back in such a visceral way it's still hard to capture the feeling in words.

So what I wondered was, in today's world of constant readily-available everything, does that magic get lost? Is it even possible to see a movie once or twice as a small child, fall in love with it, and then not have access to it, or the ability to see it again for twelve years? Does the magic exist if it's just every day life? I kind of feel bad for today's little ones. In the same way that the novelty would wear off if you were to get a pedicure every week. It's fantastic that they have everything available to them at the click of a button. It's just that a part of me wishes they'd have things that they'll never even miss. Like the joy and appreciation that comes in loving something while you have it, and then moving on to the next adventure because time has run out on the first thing. That's such an important life lesson. One that we'll all learn in some way... even if it's not in wishing for a day when everything wasn't so.... automatic...

A Rose by Any Other Smell...

First, today I had a small breakdown that brought me to tears at the thought that I'm 31 years old (I think, right? I'm 31? Pretty sure...) and still don't really know what my life is doing. And my first thought was, I have GOT to go running tomorrow. It's only been three weeks and the breakdowns are back. So, bonus points to me for healthy living and productivity. My second thought was that I was going to spend my evening wrapped in a blanket in my favorite chair listening to Ed Sheeran, Carey Brothers, and binge-watching season three of The Vampire Diaries. All of which are cued for when I close my laptop.

Second, and the purpose of me writing this post, a thought I had the other day when I had been awake for 17 hours, and had two hours to sleep before having to be up for 18 hours. Read: when I should have been sleeping. And I had the following thoughts that came to me in that way that demands to be written about immediately.

I always wanted to be one of those girls with a signature perfume. Something someone smelled and thought of you. Something that if you died tragically someone would pick up the fancy lone bottle of perfume from your night stand and smell it wistfully, breathing in memories of you as they sigh -that kind of signature perfume.

But how do you do that? At what age is it appropriate to pick just one scent? I mean, does anyone want to still smell like Sunflowers? (My 7th grade scent) --my first obsession. Actually, if we're being honest, the first perfume I was convinced was my signature was from a boxed set my grandmother gave me when I was nine. I think it had been in her cupboard for years. It was called Chantilly Lace and came in this awful pink container with lace over the top and gold writing. Even now I remember that it smelled like the little blue hairs in the grocery store that have the dull sense of smell that necessitates 75 squirts of the eye-watering, nostril-burning, powder and bad flowers perfume. God, can you imagine if that one had stuck?!

So clearly, the proper age is not nine. Or anything in middle school. And as much as I loved high school, I don't want to smell like it for a second after I graduated. In the same manner that you wake up the morning after graduation and feel the instant quality of life improvement and frolic in the realization that life is now glorious and you're never going back. Smell included.

And at some point you grow out of wanting to smell like a Victoria's Secret store (the college phase) ...although, moment of silence for Love Spell...

Last week I bought what is going to be my new scent for the time being. Roses de Chloe. Which is surprising, because I'm  normally not a flower-ey gal. Getting off topic. I got a sample of this one on a recent trip to Sephora, and I used the entire mini tube. I just loved it. And I had to have more. Which means that the bottle of Love by Nina (Nina Ricci) that I'd been using would join the bottle of D&G Light Blue -Walking in Portofino that was my scent in and every time I wanted to be reminded of Greece. The bottle of Nina by Nina Ricci that reminds me of Macy's on 34th St. The bottle of Clean -Cotton Tshirt that was my at-work perfume in Seattle. The bottle of Daisy by Marc Jacobs that smells like Southern California paradise, trips to Disneyland, and road trips to Sea World. The bottle of Armani Code that smells like giggles in the back corner of a hidden shop in Chinatown all the way up the A-train to Fort Tryon park in Manhattan and everything in between. The bottle of Dream Angels -Forever that smells like winter nights in Logan after a basketball game. The bottle of Escada that smells like new-found collegiate freedom and exploding horizons.

As well as the bottles that smell like retail therapy, the salon you tore the sample page from the magazine out of, the ones that remind you of Saks on 5th Ave, the one you got because it smelled young and fun, the one that smelled like sheer elegance. These are the bottles that have been sprayed perhaps once. Most not even that. But I still have them. My sentimentality won't let me throw them away, and I keep adding to the collection. I have some at my parent's house that I was able to remove from my night stand years ago that are filled with even more memories of high school and the beginning of college.

But at this point, I feel like I should have one prevailing perfume that's my go-to. I mean, there are a few perfumes that I have a firm link to different people in my life. Mom, old roommates, etc. And I'm not even sure that they're still using those perfumes either. So what is the appropriate time that you choose what you want to be remembered by for a lifetime in people's noses?  Because right now my night stand looks like this. These are things that keep me awake at night.

An Ugly Truth

Tonight I came face to face with a very ugly part of my soul. I had an entire post written about the ordeal, then I realized it was much more journal appropriate. You know, as in the secret journal that not even posterity should discover lest future generations realize what a crazy maniacal person you truly are. But the feelings I'm having now, the realizations coming from that experience are so powerful.  I won't recount the entire story, but I will say this: Whatever you find yourself complaining about or feeling bad about WHATEVER it is, take a moment and imagine you telling the complaint to a friend doing purely selfless work with public health in a third world country. Or write it down as though you were writing a letter to such a person. Then hear yourself say it. Hear the gravity of what your saying to this person, and allow yourself to see and imagine what their daily problems consist of. Just let it soak in. It changes your perspective.  And maybe it brings you face to face with the root of the problem that you've been battering for some time. Stark reality is cold.

The grass really is always greener. Don't let yourself immortalize past experiences on a pedestal of the bright and shiny. Don't let yourself discount your present experiences because of dreams of the past or of the way things could be. This is not to say don't dream, don't change, don't become. Quite the opposite. Be where you are. Appreciate each day for what it is, and when that day has gone, appreciate it for what it was --nothing more, nothing less. Dream big, aim higher than the stars, but don't let it put a damper of where you are now. Just realize the beauty of the position you're in to control your own reality, your own experience. Take stock in what matters. What really matters. Don't mourn things you gave up to grow to where you are now. Remember the things you gave up and be grateful that you had them, be grateful for where they have gotten you, but BE where you ARE. Always. Always moving and going forward.

And be easy on yourself. We all have ugly spots on our souls, it's part of this human experience, finding them, accepting them, and cleaning them away. You can hate certain parts of yourself as long as you hate them while staring them in the face. Don't turn away and pretend they don't exist. Don't close yourself off from them determined to feign ignorance. Acknowledge that they exist, feel whatever feelings associate with them and then work like hell to un-blemish the spots. The best lessons often begin with the deepest pain.

And be grateful for friends who when you accidentally show them your most ugly spots, love you anyways. And maybe try to be that friend for other people.

On Dreams

(Today's thoughts brought to you by a timely text from my sister followed by the above. You're welcome.)

The thing about dreams is, when it takes you more than ten years to reach one, you can't expect it to look and feel like you thought it would when you began the journey. You're a different person. You change. Things change. Life happens. Growth.

And that doesn't mean that the dream was flawed or that you screwed up the process. It just means that reaching for the stars and accomplishing things changed you. It's supposed to. I saw these beautiful words on the delightful and beautifully honest Meg's blog today:

When you can’t bear something but it goes on anyway, the person who survives isn’t you anymore; you’ve changed and become someone else, a new person, the one who did bear it after all. | Austin Grossman

I love the person I’ve become, because I fought to become her. | Kaci Diane

I do not understand the mystery of grace–only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us. | Ann Lamott

Think of all the challenges you've faced in your life. The big ones. The ones that leave a hole in the center of your being that you're quite sure can never be filled. You got through it. And in retrospect, that first thing that felt as if it was shaking your world upside down was nothing compared to each subsequent one.  You've changed and become someone else, a new person, the one who did bear it after all. And maybe some of the struggles were personal. Maybe some of the struggles were more of a process --surviving nursing school when you constantly feel like you're drowning for at least the first 18 months. Maybe some of the struggles were watching dear ones go through their struggles. Everyone has their list. Their process, blueprint for making them who they are.

Whatever it is that got you here, embrace it. And embrace the here. If you can't do that, at least accept it. Breathe it in and just sit with it for a little bit. Accept it for what it is now as seen by the beautiful person you've become. Believe that the person you are is beautiful. It's most likely true. Give yourself time. Without a time frame for final acceptance or rejection. Give yourself credit. You're pretty great after all --and you can do hard things!!

Also --don't underestimate the power of a good nap and a good laugh. (Those Irish and their proverbs --smart!)

(Now back to the Vampire Diaries...)

Musings on a Toaster

My parents have had the same toaster their entire married life. Longer than I've been alive. It's been a constant. And it's still there. The timer might be broken and you might have to manually eject your carb-food source of choice, but I swear it still makes toast taste better than any other toaster. As I waited for my cinnamon bagel to be sufficiently browned this morning I had a sudden yearning for that toaster in my own life. Something that's a part of a home, part of a family, something with staying power. Something that in 30 years my children will come home and realize they've never seen my kitchen without. Something that while there are newer sleeker models out there isn't worth replacing because its just that sturdy. Well-built. Constant.

And two smaller thoughts...

At some point you realize that through all the perceived short-comings and failures in your life, all the time spent pondering where you thought your life would lead, the path you thought you'd take, you realize that you've built a life. Your own. And it's spectacular. And you can't have the life you were so sure you were destined for and the one you made. And you realize given the choice between the two, you'd pick the life you've made every time. And maybe that's a bit scary, but its also right. And maybe not knowing what's next is perfectly ok.

So now the question is, what do you do when you wake up one morning, consecutive mornings, and realize that everything you've aimed for and accomplished has led you to your dream job. You've made it, you have it, and you hate it. You wouldn't take any of it back, and each step was right at the time. But what now? It feels like a heroin addict perpetually chasing that initial high. You change all the pieces, the variables and you just can't get the same feeling as those first days walking out of the hospital on cloud nine, the perma-grin high. What do you do when you realize you hate the job the past thirteen years -longer really- of your life has been aimed at? For now, you smile, you fake it, and you buy new running shoes. #runhappy What's around the next corner?



Sigh. Dear Ethiopia, please get more consistent Internet... The current state of access to my dear friend is impeding my ability to whine and hash out my first world problems. So, ya know, when you get past the whole clean water, and basic health, safety and sustainability, if you could do wifi after that -that'd be great. I miss you Mercy!!

Beautiful Ruins

I started this book on the coast of somewhere beautiful. Laying on a beach staring off into the crystal clear aquamarine water off the coast of Cancun Mexico. My sun-tanned toes glistening in the sun, flip-flops forgotten by the lounge chair. I was excited about the prospect of visiting the Cinque Terre myself (my planned 40th birthday adventure --start planning all those who are interested :)  You have nine more years). I read a few pages at home in Seattle, cuddled on the couch under a blanket, the occasional ray of sunshine coming through the sliding-glass door of my apartment living room. I finished the book on a shaded park bench at the entrance to a canyon in Utah, gazing into the blue-green waters of the dam, staring at the clear blue sky above me, and pondering all the places my life has been; My flip-flops keeping my feet company as the geese meander around in the lush green grass bathed in sunshine.  I never thought that I'd make it to the glitzy shores of the Cancun paradise. It seemed a place out of reach for a long time in my life. And for a long time, I never thought I'd make it back here. Back to a place where I could see myself returning- to the place I left to become myself in a time that is at once so long ago, and a blink away from yesterday. The person I was when I left is not the person I'm returning as. Am I ready to turn the page to this next chapter of my life? I finally think that I am. I've contemplated it for a long time --whether I was strong and secure enough in who I am to return to a place that is so different from a world that I've come to love. I spent a short time today driving through the college campus that consumes so many of my memories from this place. So much of my foundation spring-board into life. And it too has changed. Buildings are new, buildings have changed, and some are just gone. But my memories remain unfiltered by the shadow of time. And what a metaphor that was for me today.

There would seem to be nothing more obvious, more tangible and palpable than the present moment. And yet it eludes us completely. All the sadness of life lies in that fact. 

--Milan Kundera (as quoted in Beautiful Ruins by Jess Walter)

My next few tangible present moments are going to be hard. There's going to be tears and smiles, laughter and silence. And isn't that the way it should be? Isn't any situation worth living in deserving of wistful tears of sadness and farewell when it comes to an end? All situations come to an end, you know. For better or for worse. Nothing is permanent and fixed. Such a beautiful fact of life. If it wasn't so, what a dull boring existence we'd have. No room for growth or failure. No room for experiences, love, loss, and learning. It's a strange thing to feel so significant a chapter coming to a close. Standing on the precipice of change; fear, trepidation, and excitement coursing through your veins as you count down to leap.

This is the stuff life is made of. And at the end I only hope I am able to reflect back on my journey and realize that I made the right decisions and marvel at all that I've seen, accomplished, and become. That's all any of us can really hope for.

I Believe

Today I believe:

In love.

                     In friendship.

      That being the truest version of yourself is the only way to be happy.

             In saying Yes.

                                       In hope.

That even when you work your ass off to make your dreams come true, sometimes God has a better plan.

                                                            In being selfish.

        In Books.

                                               That traveling is the best means of maintaining one's sanity.

In playing full force until you run out of money --then eating the food from the back of the freezer until payday. Lather, rinse, repeat.

                      In staying up late and going to bed early.

                                                               That life should always be full of surprises.

A Little Reminder

When your life is giving you an ulcer, just remember what you learned in your "working full time plus going to nursing school full time" days. Take a deep breath and don't look beyond what you have to do today. Right now. One day at a time. You can do this!  Deep breath, put the good tunes on in the background, and tackle one task at a time....

The Greatest City in the World

I'm sitting here slathered in menthol, drinking my tea, and watching last night's Project Runway bemoaning the fact that I have to go to work in a couple hours. I really wish I worked in a career that it was acceptable to call in sick when you're sick. But, I digress. The designers each went to a different European city for inspiration and fabric. I watched the scenes play out in Barcelona, Berlin, London, and Paris. Then they came back to the designer left in New York City, and I as they showed the skyline I realized that I'd rather be there than at any of the other placed they showed. Sure I'd like to go to all of those cities in Europe, and it would be amazing to see all the history. And I will go someday, and it will be incredible, and I will love it. And I loved my time in Greece and wouldn't trade it for anything. But there's something about you, New York. You will always hold my soul, no place will ever compare, you truly are the greatest city in the world. What is it about you?! Sigh.  That got me thinking. Living on my own in New York and discovering myself and becoming myself... Living in New York is my single most proud accomplishment of my first thirty years. There truly are no words. I can try, and I have, but ultimately the experience was mine alone and always will be. It simply has to be lived.  But I was reminded of another list of 30 things you should know by 30 that I found on glo by MSN the other night at work.  Enjoy!

30 Things You Should Know By 30

1.  That when he doesn't call back, it's not because he didn't get the message.

2.  That there's a difference between love and lust.

3.  That sometimes sleeping in and sleeping alone is the ultimate luxury.

4.  How to strike up a conversation with a handsome stranger.

5.  How to get ready to go out in less than 20 minutes.

6.  That the dishes can wait, but not forever.

7.  That time really does move faster as you get older.

8.  How to prepare at least one dish that doesn't require a microwave.

9.  How to dine out --and truly enjoy it.

10.  How to change your oil.

11.  How to life without a credit card.

12.  How to ask for a raise.

13.  How to respond when you don't get one.

14.  How to make the most of your vacation days.

15.  How to sign up for a cell phone/data pkg/buy a car without getting fleeced.

16.  What a retirement plan is and how to make sure you're setting aside enough.

17.  Your drink of choice.

18.  Your alcohol limit.

19.  That sometimes nothing feels as good as getting carded.

20.  How to tell a good non-dirty joke -you never know when you'll need a good ice breaker.

21.  That a good friend will forgive you if you forget her birthday.

22.  How to put someone else first.

23.  How to agree and disagree -and really mean it.

24.  That your family baggage is to heavy to keep carrying around.

25.  That staying out of the sun really is the best anti-aging advice.

26.  That certain fashion trends aren't worth trying. Ever.

27.  That you're either a person who can wear bangs, or you're not.

28.  That making timelines for your life is generally a waste of time.

29.  That changing your mind doesn't mean you're inconsistent -it just means you're smart enough to know that our views and opinions evolve.

30.  That someone will always be prettier or younger or smarter or more successful. But no one else will ever be quite the same combination of those things that you are.

Now, to save myself the time and finger exercise of saying it after each one... So true!!!!

On Being 30

Tonight at work I had a bit of time on my hands. I got momentarily lost in a loop of linked articles --words of wisdom and random lists on everything you can imagine. Some are just too good not to share. This is a compilation from Glamour Magazine. I can honestly say that each of these resonates with me and I think I've accomplished each one. Some I feel more passionate about than others, but they're all glorious. Love.

By 30 you should have ...

1.  One old boyfriend you can imagine going back to and one who reminds you of how far you've come. (Sigh, yes. Good.)

2.  A decent piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in your family. (My bed. My glorious bed. My moust proud possession and purchase.)

3.  Something perfect to wear if the employer or man of your dreams wants to see you in an hour. (That little black dress.)

4.  A purse, a suitcase, and an umbrella you're not ashamed to be seen carrying.  (Isn't this so true? So adult?)

5.  A youth you're content to move beyond. (Yes -content!)

6.  A past juicy enough that you're looking forward to retelling it in your old age. (Oh the tales to be told -but not for several years :) )

7.  The realization that you are actually going to have an old age --and some money set aside to help fund it.

8.  An email address, a voice mailbox, and a bank account --all of which nobody has access to but you.

9.  A resume that is not even the slightest bit padded.(Proud moment!)

10.  One friend who always makes you laugh and one who lets you cry.

11.  A set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra. (check, check, and check :) )

12.  Something ridiculously expensive that you bought for yourself, just because you deserve it.

13.  The belief that you deserve it.

14.  A skin-care regimen, an exercise routine, and a plan for dealing with those few other facets of life that don't get better after 30.

15.  A solid start on a satisfying career, a satisfying relationship, and all those other facets of life that do get better.

By 30 you should know ...

1.  How to fall in love without loosing yourself.

2.  How you feel about having kids.

3.  How to quit a job, break up with a man, and confront a friend without ruining the friendship. (A true defining moment of adulthood)

4.  When to try harder, and when to walk away. (SO important -sometimes it's just not worth the other)

5.  How to kiss in a way that communicates perfectly what you would and wouldn't like to happen next.

6.  The names of the secretary of state, your great-grandmothers, and the best tailor in town.

7.  How to live alone, even if you don't like to.  (SO important!!!!)

8.  Where to go --be it your best friend's kitchen table or a yoga mat --when your soul needs soothing.

9.  That you can't change the length of your legs, the width of your hips, or the nature of your parents.

10.  That your childhood may not have been perfect, but it's over. (And it was pretty close to perfect.)

11.  What you would and wouldn't do for money or love.

12.  That nobody gets away with smoking, drinking, doing drugs, or not flossing for very long. (Oh SO true)

13.  Who you can trust, who you can't, and why you shouldn't take it personally.

14.  Not to apologize for something that isn't your fault.

15.  Why they say life begins at 30. (And it does. It really does. It's a beautiful thing!)

Great Great Gatsby

I'm only twenty-one pages in and I'm overwhelmed. So many like the following but this was the one that pushed me over the edge into setting the book down for a quick moment to record my thoughts.

"Something was making him nibble at the edge of stale ideas as if his sturdy physical egotism no longer nourished his peremptory heart." F. Scott Fitzgerald -The Great Gatsby

One sentence and your mouth assumes the posture of an opera singer. One sentence when said out loud that makes you feel like you're lounging warm on pure silk and satin clouds. One sentence that tastes like sheer decadence. Not in words or in message; strictly on structure, weight, depth. Horace Mann once said that a house without books is like a room without windows. In a society that is too lazy to correctly pronounce a simple three letter word, there's a lot to be said for the elegant prose of minds gone by. This is why I read. To escape, to dream, to learn, to preserve, to appreciate, to become more. More. In a world where the majority of communication has been reduced to hurried text messages with abbreviations, codes, and slang unrecognizable to the worlds greatest minds; a foreign language to the literary masters of the English language such as Shakespeare, Dickens, and Payne. In a world where television and film has to switch scenes an average of every 30 seconds to hold our decimated attention. In such a hurried massacred garble of un-intelligence that becomes every day life it's refreshing to let the beautiful prose roll languidly over the tongue and around your mouth. Page 22...

Ah, the Inspiration of 80's Rock

Lying awake and flipping through old photo albums on facebook reminiscing... And having my semi-annual geographical identity crisis. Wow, I've had some good times. And wow, there were some photos that are still hard to look at. And I really really need to start going to the gym again, because damn I look good in some of those photos!! Which reminds me... Wellness Week Three. How we doin' folks?  Was your nighttime routine as helpful as mine was? I sure do hope so. This week, stretch.  I'm not so much trying a new form of exercise as much as I am starting to exercise again. Slowly and healthily, not obsessively, but daily walks again will be nice. And in thinking of new forms of exercise, I'm kind of becoming fascinated by tai chi ...don't laugh. Anyone have experience? I like the balance and meditative factors.

Now, the geographical identity crisis.  And in the words of a great 80s rock song...and one of my life's themes, "I don't know where I'm going, but I sure know where I've been, hanging on the promises and songs of yesterday. I've made up my mind, I aint wasting no more time, here I go again. Though I keep searching for an answer, I never seem to find what I'm looking for. Oh Lord, I pray you give me strength to carry on, 'cause I know what it means to walk along the lonely street of dreams. Here I go again on my own, going down the only road I've ever known..."  Because each individual road is the only one each of us know. And it is our own.  So is going home the answer for me? Is that quitting, or running away? Can I do it without feeling claustrophobic and trapped?  Can I do it and not loose the me that I've worked so hard to find? Do I want to travel again?  Maybe I really was born a drifter... I certainly would be in good company with many of my travelling friends who feel the same way.  But then you hear your nephew's sweet voice on the other end of the video chat, so excited to hear you, and that just feels so right. Is staying here or going somewhere new running away? Why am I so scared?  And it's not must my nephew. It's my brother. And my sister, and my two amazing in-laws. And my mommy and my daddy. It's a friend in New Orleans, a friend in North Carolina, one in Florida-now-Pittsburgh, one in Iowa, and another friend who hasn't spoken to me for years. It's the memories, and the photos and the people. Ultimately though, it's me. But I'm scared. It's terrifying. Moving my geographical location won't change the fact that my heart is in Seattle and my Soul is still in New York. But it also won't hamper my ability to travel, learn, explore, and discover. It won't change my friendships, I'll always have those, the true ones. So there's that.

 It's fascinating to me to look through old photographs and see all the people you used to be. To remember being in a particular place and at a particular stage of growing up in adulthood. "Ah, this is before I moved here and learned this." "You can tell that's a girl who is completely lost as to who she is." "Look how happy I am here."  I took quite a little journey tonight over the past ...few years of my life. It's too late to think about how many exactly. I can just say how truly grateful I am for the journey. For the moments of love and laughter. For the moments of abandonment and utter loneliness. For the mistakes and for the imperfections because, as I told a friend earlier this evening, that's what makes a person.  (Someone please remind me of this the next time I'm sobbing on my couch at three in the morning because I'm so alone.)  Those imperfect moments are still hard, and I have no advice on how to get through them, just to get through them. Even if it means taking a day and literally not getting out of bed. But just one day, then the next day you have to make yourself get up and do it. Go to your "have to" from The Rookie of the Year.  I still have no answers for many of the prayers that I've sent skyward in those moments. Hope is so important, and in the words of one of my 'go-to' Grey's quotes, sometimes "I need a sign that things are going to change. I need a reason to go on. I need some hope! And in the absence of hope, I need to stay in bed and feel like I might die today." Some days are just like that. But you won't die. And somehow, those days end.

I'm not sure that this is even making sense. It's a lot of jumble in my head that somehow makes sense to me. kind of. Some of it does. Some of it I just don't know.  I just feel like I've had a lot of friends lately who have been struggling with feeling heard and alone. I don't know the answers, but I know the feeling, and sometimes that is just as important as anything. We're all in this crazy thing called life together.

True Confessions

How is everyone's wellness by the week going? I stuck to the drinking more water each day last week, and I must say it feels good just to know that you're doing something good for yourself!  This week, turning in early and establishing a bedtime routine. This one is different for me since I work until 0330 four nights a week. But I'm still applying the suggestion. Immediately upon getting home, I wash my face, and do my whole bedtime routine, then I wind down as I watch tv or read a book. I used to do it the other way around. I'd wind down and waste time for hours, then get ready for bed, frequently not getting to bed until around 7am. I found the previous two nights that by getting in a bedtime mood sooner, then unwinding I'm almost always asleep by 5, and I wake earlier and more refreshed. Good times :)

Now on to the full disclosure. This week I'm also starting something else in the way of being healthy and a whole person. I'm doing an herbal cleanse in conjunction with a healthy eating training plan. It's not a diet, and it's not one of those crazy 'drink only juice for a week' things. It's eating 5-6 small meals a day packed with fresh fruits, vegetables, turkey, chicken, fish, and healthy fats. And the cleanse portion entails a fiber drink with vitamins and probiotics. The first time I remember struggling with my weight and body image was in 5th grade. The truly sad part is that looking back I can't think of a single one of my girlfriends that didn't battle with their body image in some way or another. There were periods of time in middle and high school where I would not eat a single solitary thing during the week days. I was busy enough with school and after school activities that I thought I could get away with it as long as I ate on the weekends when I was spending time with my family. There were periods of time when I would eat nothing but carrots, and bring lettuce sandwiches to school. I had friends that ate nothing but the occasional bowl of rice. And ya know what, we were all beautiful girls! Clearly, we weren't quite healthy, but an outsider would not be able to justify our 'need' for extreme dieting. Thankfully, we've all become healthy beautiful young women. Yes, we're thirty and I'm still calling us young.

My attitudes toward my body image and the need to diet to get my weight under control have continued. I've tried almost every diet out there, unable to dissociate the way I look from my self-worth.  It's been a long road, but over the last few years I've been slowly able to accept myself for what I am. Self-perceived shortcomings and all.  I am what I am. I vowed to stop dieting and have worked instead on adopting a healthy lifestyle.  Even now for the last few months, while I've worked on everything else there are days when all I eat is a couple bananas, or an apple. Or a box of mac 'n cheese. Or a few cheetohs. And it's not because of the body issues so much, it's because I hate grocery shopping, and putting together homemade meals and planning and shopping for one is a LOT of effort, and I just don't do it. Until now. I deserve to eat real meals, and I am worth grocery shopping for so that I can have healthy foods! I've come to the blissful realization that I am beautiful and worth investing in. It's taken a lot of work to be able to go to friends' weddings and have photographs taken without feeling like I need to starve myself the few months before to look better in the pictures. I've accepted what I am fully. The key difference though is in accepting myself and accepting that I'm worthy and deserving of a healthy lifestyle, and not accepting what is and just giving up and laying on the couch all day. I am worth eating breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. I am worth drinking lots of water. I am worth living in a clean apartment, I am worth eating healthy and fresh fruits and vegetables. I am worth putting makeup on and getting ready for the day, even if I don't have any plans. I am worth clean sheets on my bed, and a scrubbed clean bathtub. And I am worth getting daily exercise and putting only good things in my body. And it's not about loosing or gaining weight. It's about being healthy. Healthy mind, healthy body, healthy soul. And being happy. I deserve it. And so do all of you. So let's keep on with the wellness by the week challenge, and adapt whatever you need to in your life to obtain a healthy body, mind, and soul. We're worth it!