M.I.A.

I’ve gone M.I.A. on this thing for a while. I met a guy, he was perfect. He was handsome, and had all of the qualities I’ve ever wanted in a partner. I was falling for him, but none of it was real. I have to wonder how much of it was, anyway. A few months into the relationship I began to discover holes in what he was telling me, things didn’t match up, and it started to unravel. Much of what I was told throughout the relationship was a lie to cover up the marriage I was told had ended long before we met. The lies got bigger, and bigger, but so did the truth. It ended in heartache, not only for me, but for the woman who learned of her husband’s unfaithfulness. The most difficult part is having the ability to differentiate who he really was, and who I had come to know. I cannot believe they’re one in the same. I keep asking myself why. What was the purpose of this being put on my life? I came to Kansas City with the hopes of starting new, giving myself opportunities I had not gotten back home. When I met him, I thought, this is it, this is why I was called to move here, to find my person. Finally. Once I began to see the spiral, I also began to question God’s intentions. I didn’t understand. I couldn’t ask “why” enough. WHY. Today I believe that question was answered. It was for her. God knew I could take this, that I had the strength to bear the burden of heartache, so that this woman may be freed of the toxic relationship she was in. She deserves better, and He needed someone to show her that. This is the task I was given, because He knew I could. In return, He protects me. He shows me the blaring kindness and support of those around me who care about me, and gives me the motivation to be the best version of myself. I hope that this man finds grace, and I hope that this woman finds peace. I trust in God to bring amazing and wonderful things into my life, for I am His.

2 Corinthians 5:7

Presence

Lately I’ve been experiencing a high level of anxiety, sometimes there was a cause, other times it was brought on by my own thoughts. There is a lot of evil going on in the world right now, and all of it out of my control. The only thing I have power over is how I choose to feel on a daily basis. I woke up this morning feeling light headed, heart pounding, nauseous, and with a bad gut feeling, carried over from the previous night.

It’s basically a rule in the server world, the last table you get sat with will sit there forever. Today I didn’t mind. A woman and her older mother who seemed to suffer from some form of memory loss. They were sweet, and the older woman paid me a compliment I don’t want to forget. She said she enjoyed my presence. My presence. What a beautiful and profound thing to hear about yourself from a complete stranger. I want to keep that on my sleeve forever.

When I got home from work, I took Fenn out for a walk. The weather is beautiful for December, but still chilly enough to blush your cheeks and put a nip at your nose. We walked down side walks, through neighborhoods, and in an occasional yard in attempt to catch a squirrel. I let my mind zone out, finally feeling relaxed and without worry. As we walked, I studied the houses, making a mental checklist of what I did or didn’t like for my future home. I took in the warmth of the Christmas lights, wreaths, and garland strung up about the trees and doorways. Watched one man stringing the lights upon his tree as I walked by, and an elderly couple enjoying an early dinner together, feeling a comforting connection to all of them.

At the end of this day, I am revived.

Aloha (from Kansas City)

I’ve lived in my new home for a month now, and I have to say I’ve ended up acclimating much faster than I had anticipated. I love the area, it’s a nice change from the college town I grew up in, and provides a new sense of adulthood. I turned 26 a week ago, which probably also has something to do with it. Still in the process of figuring out where everything is, but I can tell by my progressive road rage that I’m feeling more and more comfortable with my surroundings. I’ve already gone out more times in the last month than I feel I ever did back home, not being able to rely on my parents for socializing and companionship has forced me to seek out new options. This is a great thing for me. I’ve recently started back up at the gym, which is another positive change, and I’m very excited about the possibilities I’ve opened myself up to. I never would have felt entirely ready to move, the uncertainty of it was the most terrifying part. Forcing myself to go through the motions and not talk myself out of it (which is something I did for years) was a big step for me, and I’ve ultimately realized that putting myself out there and making myself vulnerable opened up a whole new world (cue Aladdin tunes). I’m comfortable here, and I’m happy here.

(Im)Patient

I’m at that point when you’ve had too much coffee and not enough food that you find yourself in a strange, drugged-out fog. I was hoping for good news this morning (as I am every morning), when the first thing I do is look at my phone in hopes of an e-mail or missed call from my potential (and hopeful) new home. Nothing. I’ve been not-so-patiently waiting on an answer about my application being or not being approved for almost a month. As of right now, I am not truly sure where I will be living in 3 weeks. If you know me, you know that in general, I am a planner. Sure, I can be spontaneous when asked if I want to grab a drink last minute or pick up a friend who maybe had too many drinks, but when it’s a big deal, I like to know what to expect. The most frustrating part about the process is there is nothing I can do other than to wait, and if you haven’t gathered, I’m nearly the most impatient person on the planet. There are so many things going on that I need to be able to anticipate and mentally prepare for (Alana will be back for a few weeks, Dad’s birthday is coming up, moving in general). It has been such a frustrating and drawn out process, I’m really starting to feel the pressure of it all. I’m pretty sure my endurance is being tested here, I also like to give up when things get difficult, and I’m trying not to fail at it this time. I’ve spent the majority of the day hugging a pillow and indulging in a Gilmore Girls marathon.

Ick

The worst part about being single is having to kill all the spiders myself. 

Sinus

Over the last two days my sinuses have been kicking my ass, my face hurts in ways I didn’t know it could and I feel like I’ve just been sucker punched. Last night I had a grilled cheese with carrot sticks and fruit juice in a Cinderella cup for dinner (I don’t have kids, it’s my cup). I’ve reverted to being 5 years old.

I went to work this afternoon, then came home and buried a crater in my couch and zoned out while Glee played in the background. It wasn’t until I caught Fenn staring at me that I realized I should probably peel myself up and do something. I was hungry, since the abundance of snot hasn’t allowed for much of an appetite. I decided I had enough energy to cook dinner, made a quick trip into the grocery store and spent more money than I had intended. Chips were on sale (I never buy myself chips, I can eat a whole bag in one sitting if I let myself) so I threw a tiny pity party and bought a bag. Of course the one time I do, the cashier says, “oh, looks like you’re going to have a good night”. What does that even mean? Was she judging my one and only chip purchase?

I ate half the bag on the way home.

I set Pandora to the acoustic guitar station (one of my favorites) and began preparing dinner, an asian inspired stir-fry (a big age step-up from the previous night) full of crunchy green vegetables, and sweet light shellfish. Something about the combination of the soothing music playing and the act of mindlessly chopping ingredients I found myself in a trance-like state, my happy place. I forgot about everything else (it’s been a hectic week, apartment hunting is a major pain, for those of you who don’t know, especially when you’re doing it from out of town) and just lived in the moment, completely lost in the act. (If you’ve ever seen that scene from Ratatouille when Reme creates flavor combinations in his head, that was me, look it up). It was like a sign that I’m going in the right direction in my life, that what I have planned for my future is what I’m supposed to do. In all of the sickness, stress, money, work, housing, worries, problems it was my little moment of peace and clarity.

I ate my happy dinner, sitting back in my crater on the couch, watching Bridget Jones Diary (which I had never seen, loved, and would highly recommend to any single girl out there).

Crunch Bar

Last Thursday I drove Mom up to Jefferson City, MO (about 30-45 minutes) to pick up her new car (which later gave me the motivation to finally deep clean mine). As a treat, and since we were already there, we did a little shopping, went out for chinese food (which I’ve been craving for-ev-er), and stopped by a Cold Stone Creamery (if you’ve never been, you need to go, it’s my favorite).

We were standing there, mulling over the vast number of combinations of ice cream, candies, and nuts laid out in front of us, completely oblivious to those around us. Once we finally decided (though, lets be honest, no one actually decides until it comes time to order and a split decision has to be made), we hopped in line. A nice gentleman with his two sons asked if they had accidentally stepped in front of us, we assured them they hadn’t, joking over how indecisive we are. Next it was our turn to order, I buckled down and made the most important decision of my life, “umm, I’ll have the oatmeal cookie ice cream with crunch bars, please”. Whew. Mom and I stepped up to pay, when the young man working (he was attractive, and it probably didn’t hurt that he had just given me ice cream) told us, “it’s your lucky day, ladies, your ice cream has been paid for!”. What? The man with his sons had paid for our treat! We were so surprised, grateful, and touched by the unsuspected kindness of a complete stranger. It’s moments like this that I feel should be shared. Funny story, Mom’s fortune cookie from dinner said she would be getting a surprise later that night.

Margarita

I won’t go into details, it doesn’t make much difference.

I was fired from my job this morning, it was a target I’d felt on my back for a long time now. I was pissed, but didn’t show it. Walked out quietly, and held my own. It’s never the greatest news in the world, but I felt a huge weight lifted once I left. It had become difficult to get out of bed in the mornings, knowing I was heading to a place I was undoubtedly going to be put down and short changed. A day without one negative comment from a superior was a good day.

My only saving grace were a few awesome coworkers and the constant flow of animals through the door. I learned a lot in my time there, including that this is the field I want to be in, but not the place I want to experience it. It has given me the basic knowledge to move forward, and to know a little bit of what I’m talking about in the animal world.

God knows me better than I know myself, when push comes to shove I’m not always best at pulling the trigger. I can’t guarantee I would’ve had the guts to quit in September like I had planned, maybe this is what I needed. I was able to find another job within hours of losing this one (and it pays better!), and start this weekend. Despite the ugly setup of today, it really wasn’t that bad; the weather was absolutely beautiful (and I didn’t have to be indoors!), I learned who the good people are, collected some quality advice from my dad, and enjoyed a relaxing lunch and margarita on the patio with my mom. I have to thank the big man on this one, thanks for having my back today, and always.

New York

The day has come; I dropped my sister off at the airport this morning, bravely staring at the ceiling in an effort not to completely lose it (mostly, because she would hate that). It was quick, like ripping off a band-aid, and I mostly focused on just not thinking about it. I’m sure it was to my advantage that I was still half asleep and not entirely aware of what was going on. We hugged, said our goodbyes, and waved her off once we confirmed she made it through her gate before peeling ourselves away. The women in our family are criers, we all know it, and it just gets worse the older we get. There was something about this day that wasn’t a complete sob-fest, and I think it comes from the fact that we are all so happy for her. Moving to New York is something my sister has talked about doing since day one, it’s not easy, and we all knew it (including her). In some ways I don’t think any of us really thought she would do it, but she did, and she is an amazing person for that.

I’ve always looked up to my sister, which is ironic, because she’s younger than me. She knows this, I write it in practically all of her birthday cards. We’ve always been close, I truly believe she is my soul mate. When she moved the first time, someone actually asked me what I was going to do without her, they were serious, and I didn’t know how to answer them. She was home for a few days in the process of her move, and during that time I realized how much I really love her. Rather than be upset by her upcoming move (which would’ve been more like me), I was entirely excited for her. This is her thing, this is her journey, and she’s doing it. While I can’t rid of my older-sister-protective-instincts, I can honestly say I’m just happy she’s happy. (But, if you hurt her, New York, big sister bear is comin’ for ya).

Poor

I’m off work today, so I decided to write out questions for the places I’m interested in living as a way to organize what I could afford. Once I started calling, you know what I realized? I’m poor.

I’ve known this for a long time, I grew up poor, worked through high school and college, graduated, and I think I’ve actually become even more poor. I feel like this is the part about being an adult that people don’t really discuss. The idea is for you to graduate college and be welcomed into this lovely money-making world with open arms and bundles of cash. Not the case. Once you’re an adult, you take on all your own bills (there are way more than you think), and companies stop letting you ride on your parents’ insurance policies. Not only are you cut off, but colleges whom you earned your worthless degree from all of a sudden want you to start making payments using what little money you’re making. I wonder if I could tolerate living in a cardboard box and sleeping on park benches, I could make toast on the asphalt on hot summer days. I read somewhere that the smell of toast makes people feel happy, so at least I’d have that.

I do think it gets better, from what my mom has told me, anyway. You have to have no money in order to appreciate having money when you finally get it, and to know how to not go crazy and spend it all. In some ways I’m glad I haven’t always had things handed to me. I’ve learned the importance or working hard, being frustrated, and continuing to work hard anyway, because there really is no other choice. (Unless I was being serious about the cardboard box thing). I’m a better person for it I guess, building character and all that. Until I figure it out, I’ll just continue working for nothing and complaining about it.