Feel fine vs. being fine

A few weeks ago, my wise pal Claire says the following:

I worry that you keep trying to convince yourself it is okay rather than working on getting to okay.

My elegant reply was:

Huh?

I said, aren’t those one in the same?  Isn’t convincing myself I’m okay how one gets to okay?

No, she says.

I’ve been letting that marinate for days.  Slowly, it started to become clearer to me – what Claire was telling me.  I wasn’t doing things that helped me get to okay.  I wasn’t being interesting, or learning, or enjoying my days.  I was just going through motions telling myself I was fine and then completely losing my stuff every now and then.

So, I decide to start watching a Ted Talk every morning.  It’s a way to think about a new idea, listen to people with passion and wake up with questions and ideas about the world.  It’s going really well.  I like this new routine.  It helps me have interesting things to talk about, guides me to look up more about an idea, encourages me to listen to music or get more sleep or avoid monogamy – whatever the speaker might be advocating.

Then, I took a drive through West Virginia.  Most of the time I think I don’t like nature, and then something will happen and I will realize I am wrong.  The weather was perfect, the trees were a mosaic of fall colors all the way up the mountains and I was enjoying every moment of it.  And the drive became a way to leave some bad feelings behind me.  I feel like I found some peace on the drive.

WV2

Today I read this article, by my new guy, Mark Manson.  He writes the following:

Our culture reinforces this subtle form of selfishness, this constant identification with feelings and wanting to feel better. But feeling better is not necessarily being better. This fallacy is present in our advertisements, in our political speeches, in our films and literature, in our self-help industry. If you feel bad then it is bad. If you feel good then it is good. “Go with your intuition.” “Listen to your gut.” “Follow your heart.” “Live for today.”

Clearly, Claire could become a rock star essayist.  This is the idea she was trying to get me to understand a couple weeks ago.

The rest of the article is worth a read.  It’s about fear of simple things – and how we perceive our actions to be so much harder.  For example, How could I possibly tell my parents I want to quit medical school when they really wanted me to go?  Easy answer: You tell them you’re quitting medical school.  Mr. Manson gives a few examples of these things that we’re making so much harder, when from the outside they are so simple.  How do I ask that guy out?  Well, you go up to him and ask him out.

I’ve been in this introspective tailspin for what seems like ages now. I’m starting to think it’s been worth it.  I’m starting to see how some things come together.  And when I’m really on the other side of this, I’m going to be so much stronger because of all the work I’m doing right now.  It doesn’t always feel good, but it’s the right thing to do for me.

 

I like helping.

Yesterday was a bad day.  Nothing happened to make it a bad day.  Nothing except creepy old demons popping up in full force.  I’m soooo over the demons.  Being a “silver lining” kind of gal, there was one moment that was really positive.  I had a good idea.  (Insert Sports Night joke here…)

I’ve read a lot about habits and patterns and trying to change them.  The one big take away I had from that line of study is that habits exist in three phases: trigger, behavior, reward.  One of the worst habits I’ve picked up lately is delaying getting out of bed.  But I don’t hit the snooze and get a few more minutes of sleep, I grab my phone, pull up Netflix and turn on an old rerun of some show and lay in bed, slowly waking up while listening to something I’ve certainly seen before.  Yesterday, in a moment of clarity, I thought – fine, keep the behavior, but start your day with something better than old 30 Rock reruns.  Grab the phone and pull up a Ted Talk.  Start your day with a new idea, someone talking passionately about their life or how to make the world better.  Trigger: waking up, behavior: watching something while consciousness seeps in, reward: staying in bed the extra few minutes.

Keep the Ted Talk thing in mind while I tell the next part of the story.

(But first, a note.  Because I’m about to talk about still being all blue and broken from the last relationship.  What I have done a bad job at, and maybe because I didn’t even know how to verbalize it myself until recently, is explaining exactly what is wigging me out so completely.  I don’t want the ex back.  I broke up with him for reasons and those reasons solidified and multiplied with his behavior since the break up.  I’m wigged out because I am shocked at his behavior towards me.  The other disservice I’ve done to myself is letting myself near any electronic device after a couple of drinks.  Because what I tend to email or text to the ex is the end of a thought or conversation I’ve had in my head – and without the logic that got to that conclusion – he assumes I want him back.  The thing that wigs me out so much is that I became the villain in this story.  I wanted to get married.  I was willing to make sacrifices and compromises and live a life very different than the one I had imagined for myself because I loved him that much.  He wasn’t in love with me.  He wasn’t ready to talk about that kind of future.  I could tell.  I could tell in his pulling away.  I could tell in his avoiding certain discussions.  But he wouldn’t man up and break up with me so I did with him.  I couldn’t love him as much as I did and have to find enough to love me as well.  It was honest and brave – to break up with a man I still had soo many feelings for, soo many plans for… What wigs me out is that he couldn’t be as honest and brave back.    He had to turn me into the villain and himself into the victim so he could avoid taking responsibility for any part of this.  We could have parted amicably.  He could have said, “Sarah – this is so hard.  You are so great and it’s been amazing to get to know you better.  I understand that we are both trying to be active and present in our lives and our current long distance situation does not facilitate that. ”  Or something like that.  Instead, for the last five months I’ve been carrying around the broken love and broken plans and broken pictures of us in the future AND all the blame, when his actions are what led to the break up.  He was relieved I did it and he didn’t have to.  Why can’t we just tell the truth about this?  I’m wigged out by him not being at all the man I had hoped he was.  That he said he was.)

I busted out my trusty copy of Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert a few nights ago.  There are a few passages that have become like a best friend’s advice for moving on and dealing with my stuff, especially when it comes to men.  One of her most famous passages by now is the conversation between her and Richard from Texas about soulmates.  Recently, Gilbert was with Oprah on some kind of speaking tour and I ran across this snippet, where they talk about that passage:

She says in the clip (if you didn’t watch it – which you should – it’s 2 minutes) “Whatever they fired up in you, you might have needed fired up, and then they need to go.”

If I look at the last relationship through that lens, it helps.  I loved D so much that I looked like crazy to get a job in Ohio.  I wanted to be closer to him.  It was going to take something that massive to drive me from the pretty comfy life I had in St. Louis.  To leave my family, to leave my perfect apartment, to leave my park and Farmer’s Market and Claire and Ex Hubs and my routine… I landed in Ohio just fine.  Maybe his job was just to bring me here, where professionally I’ve had more opportunities than I could have imagined in St. Louis.  I’m better connected to the work, to things that challenge me.

So – now you have the habit/Ted Talk part of the story, and the Elizabeth Gilbert fan girl part of the story.  This morning, after my rough mental health day, I woke up, grabbed my phone and pulled up her latest Ted Talk.  She just did this one a few months ago.

I just love her.  Watch the video – it’s about 8 minutes long.  Recently I wrote about the purpose article and how it struck me, and I think she has some of the same lessons.  What are the yearnings, what makes you forget to eat, what kind of crap can you put up with because putting up with that crap is better than not doing what you love.  “I loved writing more than I loved failing at writing.”

She goes on to say that after the success of Eat, Pray, Love she was struggling with creativity and felt a lot in common with her unpublished diner waitress self.  This bit spoke to how I felt yesterday.  For some reason, by last night, I was back in the worst place about this silly break up.  I knew it had to be more than about not having the guy anymore.  First, he was a nice man, but he’s not for me for the long haul.  Logically, I know that.  Second, I’ve been through break ups before.  Why was I back in the worst emotional place?

It’s because I feel empty.

For about a year surrounding my divorce I felt I was in a place where all I did was take.  I took energy from the universe, kindness from friends, all the pity I could get and I gave nothing back.  I tried to right that the next few years.  I thought of the first half marathon I ran as part of that atonement.  I was raising money for the disease my cousin died from.  I ran 13.1 miles because I didn’t love it.  Because I knew I needed to do something outside of me.  It’s hard to explain, but I feel I had gotten to a great balanced place.  I was giving a little more than I was taking and I was happy.

Then I moved to Ohio.  And I gave a lot.  I gave all this love and energy and attention to someone who I thought was deserving.  I put a lot of my own wants aside to be what I thought he needed.  And I would have kept doing it if I hadn’t bought a house that needed someone to stay and work on it over the weekends.  I would have continued to go up there most weekends, plan and pay for trips, make special dinners and special plans, compromise some of my key values because they were very different from how he lived, get Cleveland Browns t-shirts… the list goes on.  And some of that is okay – some of that is relationship stuff.  But I failed to get what I needed back.  I continued to show up and ask “how can I be nice to him today, how can I make him feel special and loved and important?”  I never got that back.  So, sure, I had this coming, right?  I saw what was happening and I let it happen.  I could have broken up with him for any of those reasons too, but I didn’t because I loved him.  And I was making choices.

And now I feel empty.

There’s an emotional bank, right?  Have you heard this metaphor?  There are going to be days that are emotionally hard hitting.  Days I hurt someones feelings.  If I’ve made deposits in that person’s emotional bank, then hopefully the withdrawals can be weathered.  By making me the villain in this story, by not acknowledging and validating all the efforts I made, there were no deposits made in the ole emotional bank.  But I kept spending.

And now I’m empty.

Back to the Liz Gilbert Ted Talk.  What do you love more than you love yourself?

I like helping.  (You were wondering where that title was coming from, yes?  No?  Moving on…)

After my semester in Disney, I realized I wanted to go into hospitality because I loved answering the tourist questions.  I loved being the person with answers.  Even in what should have been a dark time after getting let go from the casino in 2011, I had these part time jobs that let me help people AND talk about food all day!  I loved helping them pick out chocolate and master the mandolin (cooking one, not the instrument one).  I got a master’s degree because I wanted to help organizations be what they were supposed to be.  I love when strangers stop me on the street and ask for directions, and if I don’t know, I stand there and google it for them!  I offer to take pictures of families in front of land marks so they can all be in the picture.  I like helping.  This is the thing at the core of me.

I feel empty and it’s hard for me to help anyone right now.  I gave a lot this year.  But at least I feel like I’ve finally figured out what the demon is that I’m trying to slay.  I need to find a way back to helping.

From my pal Liz Gilbert (because I really do feel we are pals) and her Facebook page:

Maybe this is just a year that asks questions.

Maybe this is just a year that asks questions.

Quinn and I will just have to figure out the answers.

Quinn and I will just have to figure out the answers.

Yowza.

I admit it.  I do the occasional facebook stalking on some old friends.  I don’t think it’s creepy, or at least, I don’t intend to be creepy.  People that were incredibly important to me for a long time – hard to drop them completely and I have always smiled when I’ve seen a random picture of them happy and having families and going on trips or whatever.  I am pretty sure these are ties that are severed forever, but I still like to pause and send happy thoughts into the universe about them.  Weird.  I suppose.

I believe it is a rule of life that when you go snooping you absolutely find things you wish you never knew.  I come to this rule conclusion from the times I’ve snooped and have always found things I wish I did not know.  Very scientific.  This evening, after a run, after a shower and while I sit on my bed in my bathrobe trying to decide what my next move is (pizza? no. cereal? no. wine?  probably.) I was trolling some old friends pages.  Only to come across a joke about this very blog – which does not seem to be highly regarded.  Of course, everyone is entitled to their opinion and since I was snooping anyway I don’t harbor any ill will, but…

It stung momentarily.  My first reaction was to be embarrassed.  How mildly traumatizing to realize people you haven’t spoke to in 4 years are judging you by the random musings on an infinitesimal sliver of the internet.  Then came sad – sad I wasn’t able to repair those relationships, sad I couldn’t learn my lessons faster, be less of a jerk back in the day, etc.  I’ll always be sad that those few tough years overshadowed the years before and the potential for becoming better again.

Blogging has been on my mind the last couple of days.  I like writing, journaling, processing “out loud” but thought a transition back to pen and paper may be the way to go.

Then I thought of the kind of fun stuff I’ve done because of this very lame space.  Helped dozens of other women craft a Cinderella running costume.  Have some of my food photography make a San Francisco wedding magazine.  Make some significant connections with amazing women in Kansas City, MO and Little Rock, Arkansas.  Keep friends from Washington DC to Napa up to date – when it’s so easy to lose touch – this space has been a way for friends who choose to keep up with what’s going on to do so between the times we see each other or catch up in person.  I learned  about the Princess Half Marathon from a blogger and research so many recaps so I would know what to expect at a runDisney event and feel that was a big part of my successful Tink weekend and (knock on wood) will be part of my Princess weekend success.

So.  The moment has passed and I again learn my lesson about snooping.  And perhaps one about really letting go.

This weekend is about teaching a friend to make quiche, spending time with Doug, packing for a great work trip next week, officially beginning the house hunt here in Columbus, making plans to visit a friend in Richmond, finalizing all the Princess Half plans with Claire…

Next time I’m looking to fill some idle time I’ll fold some laundry.  There is always laundry to be folded.

past

Alone vs. Lonely

Alone is alone.  Not alive.

It’s the tagline from the Sondheim musical, Company.  (Which I saw in NYC with NPH as the lead, just saying.)  Ex Hubs has a local theatre company’s poster from their production framed and I looked at that tag line for years and thought it was heartbreaking and poignant each time.

I dig alone time.  I can be really content being alone – at the movies, at my apartment watching tv, going to the gym, on occasion at a bar having a glass of wine.  I don’t mind cooking for one or reading the newspaper for one.  Sometimes I even prefer it because I like my food and my paper a certain way and doing it alone causes me no anxiety.

(…except, the thing is, sometimes I don’t care.  I mean, I prefer to put the paper back together neatly, but 1. So do a lot of people.  That’s not that weird.  2. Sometimes I don’t care.  Is it all about the people I’m with?  Why does it matter sometimes, and not others?  An even odder revelation as I sit here and really think about this…it only matters the first time.  The first time I read a paper with you I need you to know I like it to go back neat and orderly.  But, if there’s a second time, it’s kind of fine. Whatever.  It’s not hurting anyone.  I might shuffle things back in order before picking them up, but I’m not mad at you if it’s out of whack.  Do I need validation of my preference?  What is this?  This might be a whole other thing – the thing where I absolutely have to do things my weird way, but have no expectation ever that others would do it my weird way.  Right?  That’s normal.  I digress…)

I enjoy people.  Twice last week I had dinner plans with friends.  One night it was a 1-1 dinner with a girlfriend who gabbed with me about boys and clothes and life and beer.  The 2nd night out was with a friend of mine and she was bringing a colleague of hers.  Technically, I was the crasher – the two of them had plans to try a Chinese restaurant with the best scotch selection in Columbus (no kidding) and my friend invited me along so I could make a new acquaintance.  The three of us had a great time, we never stopped talking about books on the brain (I’m trying to figure out how my own works, mostly), OD work in university setting, Disney obsessions, how we started drinking wine, etc.  We never stopped and it was not the “won’t they ever shut up” kind of never stopped talking, it was the “we couldn’t talk fast enough because it was so fun” kind of talking.

I think I’ve written before about balancing these aspects.

I love clever conversation and witty banter and interesting stories and learning about people.  In that setting, I could be around people and really get energy from that situation.

If the conversation is monotonous, or closed minded (in my opinion), or really forced, I have no problem bowing out (sometimes politely, sometimes not) and spending my time alone.

Lonely is a whole other thing.

Lonely is knowing that witty conversation is happening somewhere and I can’t get to it.  Lonely is the feeling that everyone else is with people they’d like to be with and it’s not you.

Maybe I don’t know how to define lonely, but a strange thing is happening.  I’ve noticed it happening, but it wasn’t until D pointed it out that I have to acknowledge it.  I start to cry, or tear up, (or, once it was brought to my attention – bravely just let my lip quiver a second before putting the smack down on the tears) when I say the word lonely.  I’m like Pavlov’s dog.  Lonely = Wah!  Even thinking it.  I’ve noticed this happening at work.  I see a beautiful day outside and wish there were someone to meet for happy hour, or that I lived closer to a great walking park just so I could get out and I can feel tears spring to my eyes.

What is happening?  What is wrong with me?

I have people.  I have people I talk to pretty regularly.  I text Claire, I call my sister, I tweet complete strangers.  All of that makes me happy.  I do all of that alone.  I feel fine.

So, what is this lonely?  Am I simply suffering from long-distance-relationships-suck-itis?  Is it my subconscious telling me that I’m lonely in this relationship?  Is it not relationship based at all, but just lingering transition anxiety?  I’ve pretty much kicked the “I just moved here” syndrome.  I have a long list of things I want to do in town, need to see, must eat at (of course), even trails I want to run.  So…go do them, right?

Maybe I’ve already told this story (chances are, I have).  I remember telling my grandparents I was moving in with Ex-Hubs.  I thought it would be Grandpa who gave me the lecture.  I was wrong – Grandma tells me I’m still young, I need my freedom, I don’t want to explain where I’m at all the time yet…. Grandpa simply says – it’s nice to have someone to do stuff with.   Am I just aching for someone to do stuff with?  And…how cheesy is that?  But, I’m not getting any younger friends and more and more I see how life isn’t about the stuff, but about the experiences.  And if no one is there to witness those experiences…are they like a tree falling in the woods?  We need a witness to our lives.  (I stole that line from a movie – can you guess it?!)

I’m really trying to put self-awareness to good use.  I’m really trying to figure out who I am and what I stand for.  I’d like to understand why I react the way I do and how do I know if I really feel what I’m saying I feel.  I’m trying to merge all these Sarah’s (school Sarah, work Sarah, relationship Sarah, etc…) into one just Actual Sarah.  Authentic is the buzz word right now and I’d like to get there.  So, I just need to figure out what this lonely (where are the Kleenex!) trigger is all about.  Sigh.  Stay tuned…

A story. In many, many parts.

I. Vacation

I was on vacation last week.  I took the opportunity to stay away from most social media while I was gone.  It was really nice.  All of it was nice.  It was a vacation in three distinct phases.  I took almost no pictures and I’m going to try and capture the highlights.  Which as I sit here seems incredibly daunting because last week was monumental.  It was a week that goes in the Sarah History book.  That sounds dramatic, but, you’ll see…

My time away started 40 minutes north of Asheville, NC at a big, beautiful cabin at the top of a mountain.  6 bedrooms, amazing kitchen, 5 classmates, 2 facilitators and an emotional experience to beat the band.  A few classmates and I chose to be part of a organizational behavior process called a T Group.  It’s an experience that focuses on feelings in the here and now.  There are only two rules – use “I” statements and you must remain in the present – if the experience, feeling, person, etc isn’t in the room then they are not in the conversation.  It’s intense and there’s a real learning curve for those rules.  I really didn’t know what to expect going in and I purposely kept myself in the dark about the expectations of the weekend so I wouldn’t create biases.

Warning: cheesy ahead.  I can’t describe the weekend.  It was every bit as intense as promised and I love these classmates and facilitators I went through it with in a very special way, as they were witness and participants to this work.  I felt overwhelmed, confused, sad, bad, mad, glad and afraid at certain parts.  I really experienced change and internalized awareness.

I also felt a yearning.  Marcus Buckingham, who presents on the Strength Finders assessment and co-authored a good deal about the topic, says one should pay attention to the yearnings – those intense callings to something.  For me, it was Graphic Facilitation.  One of our facilitators also worked as a graphic facilitator – a tool to visually record and organize a meeting, process, thoughts, etc.  You can go here for some examples.  A friend of mine had recently posted on FB that she was taking a graphic recording workshop and I was really intrigued then.  Once I saw this facilitator complete some of it – I was hooked.

I’m getting off track.  (I could use a graphic recording for this post.)  That was vacation part 1 and it was great. Vacation part 2 was EVEN GREATER!

Mystery Man (actually, it’s not much of a mystery any longer – let’s call him D from here on, shall we?  I shall.) D and I left the retreat and headed to a different cabin atop a different mountain.  It was a belated birthday present – a peaceful trip off the grid and a chance for us to spend time together – no school, no hotels, no classmates, no kids, no pets – just he and I spending actual time together.  The cabin we found was right out of Sleeping Beauty – when the King and Queen send Aurora to live in the woods so the evil lady can’t find her?  It was like that.  A sweet, little, comfortable cabin for two.  We had everything we needed, including lots of dry firewood to make lots of fires while we curled up, played Scrabble and I was introduced to Duck Dynasty.  (Which I surprisingly loved.)  We hiked, and read, and talked, and napped and sat in the hot tub under the stars (more on that later).

Vacation moved on to West Virginia for the next few days, but took on a different tone.  D organized an offsite retreat for the company he works for and I was along for the ride.  I went to a few dinners with them and spent some time at the spa and managed to have breakfast at the Greenbriar with my friend Meg.

II. Boys

So, let’s talk about boys.  One boy, in particularly.  And, man is probably the more appropriate term.  D is in the master’s program with me and we’ve been seeing each other when we can – mostly school weekends.  The more I see him, know him, listen to him, understand him, learn about him, make him laugh, ask him…the more I like him.  He was always my favorite classmate and transitioning to him being my favorite guy has been really wonderful.

This week was something new for us – spending 8 consecutive days together is a first.  And not just regular days – intense retreat days, fairy tale cabin days and then work conference days.  Each of those phases brought different aspects of me to the relationship.  Sometimes I’m good, sometimes I’m a lot to take.  And I’m constantly afraid people are getting tired of me.

There were two distinct and dichotomous moments on this trip.  That shouldn’t seem like blog-worthy news.  Couples have highs and lows.  The intensity of these two moments came in such a short time span that both left me speechless in their own way.  I’m hesitant to describe either of them here because I know we have mutual acquaintances who read me blather on here – and while I opened myself up to public viewing of my thoughts – he didn’t necessarily sign up for that.  So, those are stories going in the old fashioned hand written journal.

III. Lists

If you’ve ever wandered over to the page on this blog entitled List 2.0 you’ll see my list of things to do before I die.  An oddly specific item is this:

Spend time in a cabin in Asheville, NC to recharge, hike and sit in a hot tub under the stars

I know.  Oddly specific.  I attribute it to the blog Peanut Butter Runner.  I started reading a lot of fitness and running blogs when I started training for the half and ran across this one.  Jen lives in Charlotte and gets away to Asheville, NC pretty regularly.  I was reading her Asheville posts – about the great food, funky vibe and the cabin and the hiking and I was overcome with the yearning to do this.  (Pay attention to yearnings!)  Onto The List it went and crossed off it is.  I felt incredibly recharged after just a couple of days at the fairy tale log cabin with D.  Monday night, after Scrabble, after dinner, after some more Duck Dynasty – the clouds had all gone away and there were stars.  I sat outside and tilted my head back so it was resting on the edge of the hot tub behind me and just stared at the stars.  And made lots and lots of wishes.  It was a beautiful moment, and a really romantic one at that.

IV. Wishes coming true

So, then this thing happened where I got a job.  A stars-aligned into the perfect scenario kind of job.  April 2nd I was told my position is being eliminated.  April 15 I was told I wasn’t right for this job.  April 30 – I kind of bombed a technical interview they put me through on a 2nd chance.  May 7 – I have a 20 minute interview with the actual hiring manager and I have the offer 24 hours later.  And it’s not just a job.  It’s a job that will let me do what I’ve been doing and am good at for the last 8 years and combine that with the Organizational Development tools and concepts I’ve been working on with my master’s.  It’s this perfect bridge to the other side of Organizational Change Management – which is what I want to do.  It’s a job where my title is consultant.  It’s a job that will pay me enough to start paying back the school loans I took out to get the legitimate education behind what I want to do.  It’s a job that makes me feel valued.  Like all the steps back in the last few years were worth it – because this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.  I’ll be moving to Columbus, OH in just a couple of weeks.

I’ve never been to Columbus, OH before.  I really need to figure this out.

When I think about the roller coaster of the last 6 weeks, it’s nothing compared to the roller coaster of these 6 days!  Leaving the school retreat content to start thinking about what comes next and focus on what I’m good at and two days later have that job in hand.  I had no idea what the week would bring when it started – but I almost like that it all happened so close together.  We never know when the biggest days (or week) of our life is going to be – and this was absolutely one of the biggest weeks of my life.

I can say this next sentence without it being scary…

I don’t know what happens next!

I don’t know where in Columbus I’m moving, I don’t know what happens next with D, I don’t know who I’ll work with, I don’t know exactly what the work will turn out to be…and I can hardly wait to find out!

My week in five songs

This WordPress daily inspiration caught my eye over the weekend:

Tell us how your week went by putting together a playlist of  five songs that represent it.

It’s Monday – so here we go going back a week ago tonight.

Don’t let me get me by Pink

There’s a line in the song, “I’m a hazard to myself.”  Sometimes I am.  I like to self diagnose myself as “better” pretty regularly so then I decide I can stop taking the “crazy pill”.  Save your lectures.  I’ve actually heard them all before.  January and February were no exception and by late February/early March I was not doing well.  And it took a well timed phone call from a friend who recognized the symptoms to straighten me out.  I found myself sitting at my kitchen island pouring my guts out and recognizing feelings I usually try to stuff in a tiny box.  It was weird, man.  She made me promise her I would do two things the next day – take the Zoloft and go to Zumba.  I did both.  And I felt better.  And I did the same thing the next day, and the next.  And I feel better.

You can’t stop the beat by the cast of Hair Spray

Ex Hubs and I never really had a song, because while he loved music, we rarely listened to any together.  He didn’t listen to music in the car (except the Once soundtrack and that was a monumental occasion when I found out he BOUGHT a CD to PLAY in the CAR!).  But, we did see a lot of movies and musicals.  And I am bad at song lyrics.  And I kept singing the lyrics to this song wrong for the week following seeing the movie.  And it’s in my weekly roundup for these lyrics:

Cause you cant stop
The motion of the ocean
Or the sun in the sky
You can wonder if you wanna
But I never ask why
And if you try to hold me down 
I’m gonna spit in your eye and say 
That you cant stop the beat!

Oh oh oh
You can’t stop today
As it comes speeding down the track
Child, yesterday is hist’ry
And it’s never coming back

I went to this shindig with him for a couple hours Saturday night and it’s so easy and comfortable and the past is the past and it’s never coming back.  And because he and I are friends doesn’t stop any kind of forward motion in our lives.  Also, every now and then he still knows EXACTLY what I need and Saturday night it was, “Okay, I know you want to talk about the menu for this little dinner party you’re having this weekend – have at it.”  And guys, I DID want to talk about the menu for the dinner party!  (Do you think I could start one more sentence with “and”?)

Arms by Christina Perri

1.  It’s a beautiful song.

2. It’s about a chick with boundaries who thinks about letting someone in.  So… OOSMD is coming to STL for the first time this weekend.  I’ve become a little weird about my space.  Letting someone see your house for the first time is really personal, right?  Is this just me?  Which is good – because I know I’ll feel comfortable in my house and not mildly anxiety riddled like I get when I’m a houseguest at his place.  For the past week I’ve been looking at my place trying to see it like someone who has never been there will see it.

There is cat hair everywhere.

Mostly all I can think about is: I’m going to have to explain to someone why the washer and dryer are set up like they are.  I forget that it’s weird until I have to explain to someone.  I’ll post a picture sometime.  This is a weird concept to explain.  I’ve just created such a safe zone in my apartment and I don’t let just anyone in the safe zone.  There’s been this distance to this relationship that exists in places that aren’t my home so far – which has been frustrating and…safe.  Sigh.  Nevermind.  I’m so weird.

Feel this moment by Pitbull, featuring Christina Aguilera

This was a new song in my Zumba class that made me smile and feel good.  I’ve been using it whenever I needed a little dance break during studying and homework all weekend.

Feeling good by Michael Buble

Because I saw this video:

Enough said.  Watch the clip.  It’s so cool.  You will not regret it.

Which do you want first?

 

Bad news: I work for the most ridiculous company.

Good news: So does my best friend.

Bad news: Ridiculous company does not have very good prescription insurance resulting in this amount of money being spent on 30 pills!  I mean, I knew I was going to spend part of my tax refund on a little treat.  I did not think it would be this…

image

 

Good news: I immediately went to the wine section to, you know, get something to wash the really expensive medicine down with, only to find my favorite cheap wine even cheaper today!  (2 for $10!!)

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Bad news:  It’s rainy and gross outside and took a while to get home.

Good news: Sam Cooke radio station on Pandora.

Bad news: Running out to my car in the rain to reach into my back seat to grab a box only to have a slipper fall off and land in a puddle.

Good news: It landed plastic bottom side down!  Minimal water seepage ensues!

Bad news: I pulled up the Domino’s pizza delivery site.

Good news: I immediately came to my senses and shut it down!  Veggie enchiladas are now in the oven.

Bad news: I have a crap ton of homework to do.

Good news: I’m probably not going to start it until after tonight’s all new HIMYM!