Help

I can’t be hungover at 8 PM on a Saturday night anymore.

At how many mimosa pitchers do I decide that I need to make a couple of changes in my life.

I’m whiny and needy and I just want someone to tell me what on earth to do with my life.  Because clearly something isn’t working quite like it should.

 

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I’ll protect you

I have never written the words, to keep this little piece of magic inside my head for just a little bit longer.

When the words find their way out, the past will finally be where it is, never to return to the living,

I want to hold the memory close for just a little longer.

I want to keep the sun in my mind, and pretend that I’ll never have to relive that feeling when the plane hit the runway.

I’ll protect you, don’t you worry.

Experiencers

I don’t consider myself a trendy person, I have a FitBit and some wonderful ankle boots, but that’s about as trendy as I get.  I’ve taken one yoga class and painted my nails black exactly once.

So where do I fall on the whole “experience” trend?  Somewhere between jealousy of the amazing trips  I cannot afford and annoyed by busy-ness of it all.

Clarify.  I love traveling.  I spend my life trying to make people’s travel experience’s better.  That’s dedication.  I want to go everywhere I possibly can without repeating anytime soon.  I don’t believe in the notion of spending your entire life working so you can have a lovely retirement, and then what happens if you or your significant other aren’t around to see that?  It’s morbid, but now that I’ve seen it, my decision is even more validated.

We become more interesting as people with new experiences.  Our conversations are more full of life instead of things.  Every day becomes a new learning experience of a place to go or something to do.

A downside does exist though.  I just waited an hour for some good Filipino food at Bad Saint.  Yes, it was wonderful, and flavorful, but just good (try the clams).  It’s not like I felt the first time I had the s’mores ice cream at All Purpose.  That, I would wait an hour for.

Where do we draw the line at experiences?  When do we stop overhyping them?  Do we someday switch back to just caring about things?  Do we even want that so us “experiencers” can go back to experiences?

Just some questions.

The Truth About Invincibility

Invincibility as I used to think, was reserved for people like Captain Planet and Meredith Grey.

As we age, our  tastes change, and the definitions we had once assigned to people, places, and things begin to take on a new meaning.

Invincibility is working an eleven hour day and still doing two loads of laundry that evening.

Invincibility is staying up until 11 PM helping your daughter with her homework despite not truly knowing if the answers are correct.

Invincibility is loving a living thing so much that even the though of lising him or her is too much.

Invincibility is knowing how good that donut would be but refusing it anyway.

Invincibility is watching a loved one slip away from you and having zero control to stop it.

Invincibility is having your heart broken and packing your bags and going to Aruba to heal.

Invincibility is saying “screw it” and not leaving your couch or a day because you finally needed a break.

Invincibility is choosing to work with your demons, instead of focusing all of your time trying to overcome them.

Invincibility is looking someone in the eye and not accepting what they define you as, but how you define yourself.

The Perils of Being a Millennial

Let me preface this by I am not a single female and that I try really hard not to read those corny Facebook posts about why being a single mom is so hard or how the nanny killed a newborn by not paying attention to it (please do not waste your time reading those articles because you will wish you had lit you eyeballs on fire after).

Yet of course today I clicked on one that was about how being married is so incredibly difficult. There’s projects on the house to work on, there are disagreements, there are days of hatred between significant others.  It IS hard.

My problem with the post was it shamed women that wanted to be married and have children because they are looking for it for the wrong reasons, the dress, the adorable baby, etc.

I CANNOT PHYSICALLY HANDLE THE PAIN IN MY CHEST CAUSED BY THE STUPIDITY OF PEOPLE COMMENTING ON THESE POSTS AND ENCOURAGING IT.

“Then stop reading”.  But I can’t.  It’s like a Kate Spade surprise sale sending you emails every six hours reminding you that everything is 75% off.

We shame people.  We analyze everything thing we do and decide to write posts about.

Yes you should be married, no you should be single, you should be a stay at home mom, working mothers give their kids more value, these people are liberal snowflakes, these people are white supremacists.

We can’t take it anymore!  Someone make it stop!  We’re overloaded with opinions every single day, day in and day out and we cannot possible care anymore.  But we’re taught that technology=power, and so we keep getting sucked in, reading bigoted comment after bigoted comment.

I am sad.  Truly sad that we feed into this non stop, judgmental cluster fuck every day.  And that I continue to read them.

“So you failed. Alright you really failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You think I care about that? I do understand. You wanna be really great? Then have the courage to fail big and stick around. Make them wonder why you’re still smiling.”

This used to be one of my favorite quotes.

And then I actually failed.

Sure you can fail a class, maybe fail at a friendship, but then you have your first big, real failure.

Suddenly the ground is out from under you, and you’re sitting there on your ass looking at the world swirling around above you thinking “why the hell am I even here”.

That has been the past month.  Trying to find some sort of meaning in my actions, why I did what I did, and how I can somehow make it better.  But the true fact is – I’m the one that messed up, and for once,  I can’t just shove it under the rug.  I can’t give someone a smile and hope that they forget all of my mishaps.

I’m still around, but I’ll let you know when I can start smiling again.