A keyboard confessional (from one more damn millennial)…
It seems that it’s around this time during the month that not only do I feel obligated to write again, but I feel the words bouncing and tearing around inside me looking to ricochet across a broader space than my mere insides can provide. They want the room to roam and be free, so here I am yet again.
That being said, I come to you today with a literary title rather than a musical one*: The Savage Damsel and the Dwarf by Gerald Morris.
I am scared. Contrary to what it seems with my penchant to travel alone; jump out of airplanes; and voice my life’s trials, tribulations, experiences, and beautiful embarrassments in this very public space… I really exist in an anxious and largely scared state of mind. Maybe I am like the Bruce Banner of anxiety… Maybe it’s my superhero burden to bear (wow, self important much, Liz? Though, green is my favorite color…) Continue reading “I Can Change”
“Decide what to be and go be it…”
My mom has gifted me a desk. This simple sentence brings me more joy than I can possibly express. I have not had a real desk for the better part of a decade and even then it was that piece of my college furniture that served more as a resting place for books, sweatshirts, and sundry nonsense than it did as a useful writing surface. I already love this small wood structure an unreasonable amount and have great plans for its physical improvement (someone did this beautiful piece the disservice of “up-cycling” and painting its ornate solid oak surface a “shabby chic” distressed and dusty baby blue with seashell motif knobs – not exactly my style but there is a lot of scope for the imagination when it comes to putting it all to rights again). A writer needs a desk, and this one, with its current imperfections, is a reflection of the writer in question; a work in progress, as it were. Continue reading “Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise”
Being sick sucks y’all… Here I am saying that I need to stop laying on the couch feeling sorry for myself but this is literally what a stupid cold is forcing me to do. The weather needs to get itself together and stop being a moron so that some of us can actually breathe. Anyway, in an effort to overcome, as always, I am here with more topics for consideration since I literally can’t take the sullen introspection anymore.
I am struggling today. I don’t truly know why and it doesn’t truly matter. This is a well worn feeling and it’s not something to worry about overall. More importantly, the world is struggling right now. There is so much hate and bile being spit across genders, races, political leanings, sides in the toilet paper placement war, pineapple on pizza aficionados… The list is endless. Sometimes, you just need to laugh. So, today, rather than sharing the self important drivel that I usually spout (yes, yes, I know, it’s important to talk it out… I am allowed to feel, blah, blah, blah…) I’d love to share some of my favorite things and hopefully elicit a laugh (this time, not at my expense). I hope one of the myriad things below makes you smile… they have been helping me recently and I just felt the need to share the love and laughter. Continue reading “Sadie Hawkins Dance”
I feel as though I can be comfortable with the expectations I have set for myself this year. Last year didn’t kill me, so if that is my base line, I at least know I can survive this one given nothing actually, physically, disastrous happens (I am currently knocking on every form of wood I can reach). I have said the purpose of life is to survive it, but that was admittedly during one of my darker moments. Right now, I can see with the foggy realization, the general though occasionally begrudging acceptance that despite the difficulty, the purpose of life is to live it—with some damn VIGOR where possible.
The tragedies of last year are of the past, I am clinging to them as a bad dream, lest I forget all together, but I now intend to live with some kind of intention after a really rough six months (at least, you know, until all the enthusiasm wears off and everyone leaves the gym again—kidding, mostly). It was all a bad dream (sorry for bastardizing the words, Biggie), it’s now time to wake up.
Today is our wedding anniversary. Were it not for yesterday marking three months since our separation, we would have been married two years as of today. What is three months? Long enough, apparently, for an individual world to toss about like a boat in a tempest and still not find equilibrium. Three months is a quarter of a year, one eighth of my marriage. We were together for seven years, friends for three longer than that. Three months may seem like nothing until you factor in the finality… The fact that each day adds to a week, each week adds to a month, and each month leads to a year. In three more months, it will be six, half a year… The thing that was my whole world is just gone, it’s an ineffable feeling to conceptualize. I am astonished by how seemingly slowly time passes, until it’s of the past and then I wonder where it’s gone.
Because of this anniversary, everything is shades of blue today. Not happy, periwinkle blue or deep, lusty cobalt… the blue of haze and sadness. It’s not even a good, thematic blue that complements the musical genre. Or an adorable dog from a children’s show. This blue is dull and characterless. Unfortunately, though, its lack of character is still all encompassing and eye catching in its grungy hue. It has stained my world and made it dingy – incapable of any sparkle (not the pansy vampire kind). Worst of all, this blue has a liquid quality, leaking through the cracks around each door I try to close in an attempt to hold it off. Continue reading “Exeunt/Stay With Me Baby”
As I believe is made evident by my writing here—sharing my hurts and feelings—I am a fairly open person. In fact, I believe openness and the ability to empathize are my two best personality traits. That being said, I also am a bundle of flaws who realizes that perfection is an aspirational state of being, not a reality. Therefore, I pride myself on being an incredibly forgiving person who understands that flaws are inherent and can sometimes come out, despite best efforts. This combination of beliefs means that I rarely hold real grudges and therefore I hold no real regrets. I thoroughly believe that everything is a learning experience and I can rationalize myself out of most anger. Actually being angry makes me feel nauseous, like my body is literally trying to physically reject the emotional experience. I may become frustrated easily on occasion but I let it go just as quickly. I try, adamantly, to go with the flow and spread good vibes in my wake. Continue reading “Whatever Forever”
“Here’s to strong women. May we know them. May we be them. May we raise them.”
Last week, well, it just wasn’t great… My grandmother fell and broke her hip (after fracturing her spine in December), my dad was in the second of two car accidents for the month (he is fine, and he wasn’t at fault—either time—but still), and finally, my wallet was stolen out of my office on Friday. FROM MY OFFICE of all places, not even while I was out and about doing something FUN. So, while intermittently texting my mom funny yet encouraging cat gifs and videos of laughing babies, to get her through nights spent in the hospital with my grandmother, I openly reflected with her that it would be awesome if the universe would do our family a solid and cut us some slack for about two seconds. Ah, but I dream. As one of my colleagues noted today, I am clearly winning the year 2017. Continue reading “You Raise Me Up”
Despite my current trials and tribulations, I continue to believe in the importance and necessity of love. As my cat has just proven, love, unconditional love, is about forgiveness (he needed a bath… It was not fun for either of us, but we are good now because I fed him afterward).
Because of my current struggles, I have had friends ask if it’s too painful for them to talk to me about the good things happening in their lives, particularly all of the ways in which their love lives are thriving. I want to make something clear to the world: just because the playground bully that is life has turned me upside down by my ankles and shaken me until all of my personal and private pocket-dwelling things have been exposed to the public eye, does not mean that I want it to do the same to anyone else. I wouldn’t wish these thoughts, feelings, and experiences on my worst enemy. I want everyone I know to be as happy as they can possibly be because it’s times like this that serve as a reminder that the good times don’t always last. At the risk of being too sappy and cliche, we should appreciate the crap out of the good times because sometimes they get taken away for no damn good reason… And in those moments it’s the good things you have to hold onto in your memory, just to get you through.
