I love my cat

I could literally leave this post at just that.  I love my cat, she’s better than all pets on earth, no arguing.

On Christmas Day 2014, I decided that I wanted to spend the next day at shelters, just looking at cats (THIS IS NEVER A GOOD IDEA). I didn’t plan on adopting one that day (ha!).

Our first stop was a smaller shelter about 20 miles away.  I had looked online at the cats they had rescued, and there was an adorable little orange kitten that I wanted to name Henry or Alfred.  My sister’s attention was drawn to a little gray fluffball named Haddie.

The second I got there I bee lined for the little orange cat.  He was asleep, and had 0 interest in me.  I wandered over to where my sister was playing with the little gray cat. She immediately started licking my hand.  I asked if we could take her out of the cage as she was basically trying to break out at that point.

We took her into a playroom and she immediately climbed on my shirt and started licking my face.  She was mine.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t allowed to adopt her that day.  My landlord hadn’t called back to confirm that I was permitted to have a pet in her house.  I was told I could come back the next morning and adopt her then.

The shelter opened at noon the next day, and I was in the parking lot waiting at 11:45.  My landlord never called.  I left her six voicemails.  The shelter saw my desperation as a pesky four year started inching closer to her cage.  They said they would move forward as long as my landlord called by the end of the day.  I packed her up that night and made the drive back to DC from Pennsylvania with my little sidekick by my side.

Until that day, I didn’t know what it meant to have something to look forward to when I got home.  No matter how bad my day was, I knew that I would have my adorable little gray kitty waiting to snuggle and give kisses as soon as I got home.  To be honest, I wasn’t even sure that I could love a living thing that much.  Trouble sleeping?  No problem, she turns herself into big spoon and puts her paws on your back to keep you relaxed.

Not a day goes by that I don’t thank God for this little snuggle monster that has been, by far, the biggest blessing I’ve ever had in my life.

 

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A blog a day keeps the doctor away

This Christmas has been a strange one.  For many reasons, our family has seemed disjointed.  Whether this is good or bad, I’ve used this time to keep my focus away from some of the negativity and focus on myself and reflecting on the past year.

2016 has been busy.  If you cannot tell by the number of blog posts I’ve written, I have been working like a crazy person.  Maybe with no results and maybe with some.  It’s been tough, and I’ve realize that I’m not happy with what I’ve done with this past year.

I feel very average.  I’ve made 0 progress on my fitness goals, 0 progress on my writing goals, 0 progress on social media goals (it pains me to say that even as a millennial). I’ve made some progress in my job, but for every step of progress there is a French man in the background tearing it down.

Is average bad?  No, it’s not.  But at what point do you settle for average?  At what point do you silence that little piece of your brain taunting you, that you want to have the whole world in front of you, but you’re okay with what is on the plate directly in front of you?

I’m not ready for that. I am eternally grateful for the life I’ve been given, but does that mean settling?

I don’t believe in New Years resolutions. I will start today though with my first:

A blog a day keeps the doctor away.

I always want to write more.  About DC, about life, about battling with anxiety and depression, about always being a small fish in a big pond, and of course about Bailey Bear.

So while my blog may be painstakingly average and talk about work and attempting to try every amazing pasta dish in the DC, Baltimore, and Pittsburgh area, at least it will be something to be accomplished in 2017.

 

Welcome to Tru…..

Sometimes I think I’ve been away from my hometown for too long.  Until I come back.

My grandmother asked me my boyfriend’s name today, to which I for some reason responded with his name given to him at birth.  He’s Egyptian, so you can see where I’m going with this.

Her eyes bugged out of her head and lips pursed. Like I just punched her in the stomach.  I then provided the name he goes by, a simple three letter “American” name.  She spoke up this time…”Well that’s a nice name, he sounds like a nice boy”.

This interaction, ladies and gentlemen, is why Donald Trump is president.  Disagree if you’d like but don’t bother arguing because I will never acknowledge it.

This was also the only real interaction I had with my family today. About me dating. No “how’s your job”, “how is the move going”, “how is life in general”.  Anything would have been acceptable, but nope.  Because all I amount to in their eyes is that I am the only grandchild that has any chance of giving them a wedding or a child in the reasonable future.

I oversee a multi-million dollar business, and all I am known for is the one that could give them babies.

My fellow DCers – welcome to the “real” America.

It’s not always rainbows and butterflies

I have accomplished so many things in the past year.  Truly huge things.  I am grateful, I’m humbled, and I am working to maintain these accomplishments.

But it just gets lonely. 

It’s never been a secret I don’t have the type of family you can just call up and tell about your day. I spend a lot of time wishing I had someone to share my happiness with.  

Until then I’ll just keep working.

This deserves to be untitled.

I have many amazing, beautiful things happening in my life right now.  I’ve been dying to post about them but found myself in a whirlwind lately.

My whirlwind stopped today, but it was stopped by something far different than I expected, and so today I can’t talk about those amazing, beautiful things, but rather something else as beautiful, but heartbreaking.

During my before-bed scrolling of Facebook, I came across a gofundme page for someone I used to work with.  I immediately worried he had become sick.  To my surprise, I clicked on the link to find that he had killed himself three days ago.

I will not pretend for a second I was close with him or knew his family, because I wasn’t.  I’d say hello and make small talk and eventually we grew to a point where we’d have normal conversations.  In those small moments though, there was one thing about him that was incredibly clear.  He had a beautiful, uplifting spirit.  He always had a smile on his face, and had such a kind demeanor.  It truly seemed like he just wanted the world to be happy.

I cannot say that I’m grieving, because I am not.  I can only pray for his family and friends, and ponder the same question as many others.  How do we not see these things coming?  How can we continuously be shocked by the loss of someone we wanted nothing more for then for them to be happy.

How on earth can we still have this negative stigma with mental illness that makes a person feel like they have no options left.  That makes someone feel like they cannot handle one single more day on this earth.  We sit here and repeat these phrases over and over again, yet we still fail to give love as freely as it’s needed.

I have been in many dark places over the years, and I can say with certainty that the only way I was able to come out was because of acceptance.  Acceptance of help, acceptance of others, acceptance that this didn’t have to be my life.  But none of those things I could have done on my own. I have been blessed to have an amazing support system.

I cannot tell enough people how grateful I am for them today and how much I love them.  You should too.

Here I go again…

Another try!  And some Whitesnake to end your day with.

When I was younger I used to love writing, I still have a notebook that I kept from middle school on full of everything I used to write. But the 10-12 hour workdays have gotten in the way of that.  At the start of every year I try to go back and focus on the things that I actually enjoy, so I’m giving this blog another shot.

So what’s new?  Absolutely nothing.  I’m fairly certain at the last time I was on here was right after my last relationship ended, and that was pretty much the remainder of my year.  Awful dating experiences, work, and a lot of food and wine (I’m actually not complaining, it was a great year in terms of fun).  I got to travel a lot, filled my life with great people, and had a lot of great experiences that really made me think.

For the past two years, I’ve had this name that I’ve used, TheDCBrunette.  It’s not popular, but I don’t care and I enjoy it.  I can say things I want to and while people know it’s me, to the innocent bystander I’m just another anonymous person on Twitter.  But last year, I spent some time in California, and yet again fell in love with it.  I’ve spent so much time committing to this area, but it’s not like this area has committed anything to me.  Half of my friends move away within a year, my job has a tendency to suck my soul away, and it’s cold.  Oh, and I certainly don’t have family or a significant other here.  I feel like it’s finally time to venture outside my comfort zone, but it’s absolutely frightening to think about.

So that’s where I am.  But until then back to my adventures in the district….