is this the place that I've been dreaming of?

Allow me to be quite candid for a moment.

I’m feeling quite fortunate today. Today of all days where, from the moment I rustled myself out of bed, nothing has gone right in any way; though my heart seems to feel two sizes too big for my chest. It’s a good feeling, a welcomed feeling. A feeling that I take emotional stock of so in a month or two weeks or two days from now when everything has shifted yet again, I can remember.

I’ll remember the moment right before climbing into bed last night, my flushed cheeks feeling just a little too warm but I’m content and fuzzy and smiling on the inside, courtesy of a few glasses of good wine.

(I don’t mind, I prefer sleeping half in and half out of my covers anyway)

I’ll remember waking up a little bit earlier than normal today, and just existing for a moment. Stretched out on my back, hands behind my head feeling both of my lungs fill completely. I’ll note the hesitation before the strong exhale pushes everything back out again, and it feels right. And then I’ll remember the smile.

The smile that appeared unannounced but in an oh-so-completely genuine fashion, simply because I remembered.

The smile was there because I knew that my people, all of my people, were okay. They were breathing easier today for reasons to each their own but their own none the less. And knowing that makes me happy. Happier than well, most anything else I can think of. (Save for maybe a really good glass or twelve of wine, having clean sheets and white cheddar cheese puffs from Trader Joes.)

(I kid on that last part. Well, kinda.)

I can say this with certainty because yes, while I can be slightly overemotional and considered overdramatic sometimes (and by sometimes, I really mean quite often) my people are important to me. Not only because I care so deeply about them but because at the end of the day, it’s just who I am. No matter how many times I’ve tried to rationalize it (“you’re being such a baby, quit worrying about things you can’t control.”) or attempt to put into words just what I feel when this happens (“it’s just..it’s like..I think I just allow myself to FEEL too much.”) it just seems to fall inexplicably short of what I truly mean. And really, I guess, it doesn’t matter as long as I own my feelings, right?

But then sometimes words are exchanged that somehow put it all into place. Regardless of the situation at hand, all at once, the rationalizations and reasoning’s and whatever else comes with it just don’t seem to matter. People say things that flat out knock me on my ass and serve as a perfect reminder as to just why I care so much about my people.

“My family is my life, and I won’t be ashamed of that.”

And that, my friends, is the reason I’m smiling today.

there's no substitute for time.

I remember when I was young, so young in fact that the premise of life had not yet even crept into my mind. It’s just one of those things, you know, living in that childish bubble of faith, bravery and invincibility where all of the “adult” things seem so far away and my vocabulary was littered with “well, I won’t ever do that”-‘s and “when I grow up, I’m going to be the coolest grown up ever!”-‘s.

(in my defense, I think we all say that.)

…and then one day without warning, you wake up to realize that you’ve made your bed every morning this week and your phone calendar is suddenly reminding you to pay your car registration that’s due next week or (my favorite) your best friend of 12+ years calls to tell you that she is finally, FINALLY, getting married and that she wants you to be her maid of honor.

[yeah, I am pretty dang excited about that last one.]

All of these things come suddenly and out of nowhere, leaving me to wonder just when it was that I took this sharp right turn to Grownupland because if there’s one thing that I’m sure of – it’s that I don’t feel like an adult. It’s more like a feeling of a child trapped in an adult’s body, fumbling around trying to make decisions like the child thinks an adult would, and reacting like a child would when things don’t go EXACTLY RIGHT. Someone somewhere has to be regretting the decision to give me responsibility for anything, ever. And sometimes, I really can’t say that I blame them.

All of this reminds me of a time where everything was much easier, more black and white and simply put, much less scary. I was 11, and there I was standing face-to-face with the absolute biggest fear I had: a rollercoaster. At the time it was absolutely the biggest, fastest most terrifying thing that I had ever laid my tear-filled eyes upon and there was that moment – the moment where I realize (again, at 11) that I can forever be afraid of this ride or, I can just shut up and get on it. It was a simple, black and white, yes or no decision that stood before me and then, it was over.

Sparing the dramatics (I got in line, I cried, I screamed, I cried, I got on it, I cried some more, it ended, I survived, I got on it again, I cried, repeat again.) and the fact that it literally took me three tries of subjecting myself (and my poor mother who still physically cringes when this story is brought up) to such self-torture before I finally realized that I had conquered my fear. And when I say conquered, I really mean that I owned it and I owned it GOOD. That honest to god feeling of triumph and pride from within myself is something that obviously won’t be forgotten any time soon.

Suffice it to say, I don’t know when the paralyzing fear decided to place itself into this life. That overwhelming feeling when faced with any situation wherein the outcome is uncertain, the choice to just walk away always seems to win out now. The black and white of it all, the fearlessness that I once found within myself is gone, and I don’t know how to get it back. I’d like to be able to see situations now as clearly as I saw them before and not be stopped by the fear of the “what ifs.” The “what ifs” need to turn into “so what’s?” and so forth.

So when I think about it, it’s more so of the fact that I just need grow a pair I guess. Stop being scared of the unknown and just make a decision to the best of my ability at the time. If it works out, great. If not? Oh well. And quite frankly, if my 11 year old self can do it, then there really isn’t a reason as to why my 23 (almost) 24 year old self can’t, you know?

And if everything else fails, I can always just go back to the roller coasters.

23

I'm 23 today.

It's such an in-between age, don't you think? I mean, am I officially coming into the cusp of my mid-twenties, or does that not happen until next year? Which then seems silly because you're closer to actually being a mid-twenty as opposed to just being in your mid-twenties.

Yeah, that's kind of how my brain has been lately. I apologize.

I wasn't looking forward to today, at all actually. I have some of the biggest issues when it comes to aging and getting older - most of which I can't quite narrow down exactly why. The only thing that slips into my mind is that I used to write birthday letters to myself on this day, every year. Giving myself goals and ideas to accomplish over the course of the next year, you know, to really justify my existence apparently. I couldn't just have another year of life, it had to MEAN SOMETHING and I had to BETTER MYSELF and CHANGE THE WORLD and then on top of everything else, CURE FUCKING CANCER.

For a long time, and even a little still now, the first thought I had when I would wake up was to call my parents and apologize for not being enough. I was never the best student, best athlete, best daughter, best sister, best anything really. This is a weight that I've carried for god knows how long and yet, with time, has yet to completely alleviate itself. Another birthday was a reminder of yet another year that I disappointed everyone around me because I just was not enough. It's still a constant battle for me, one that I struggle with consistently and it's really not anyone elses' doing but my own. But this is the first time, in a long time, that I opened up my eyes this morning not feeling like I owed them some huge apology for being their oldest daughter that's just still kind of, finding her way through this life. While many people my age (ahem, in their mid-twenties) may have a career, family, etc, I don't. And my parents don't (and never have, exactly) pushed it. They've accepted me for who I am, go along with (most) of my decisions and just kind of deal with it. I don't know how, but they do and waking up today as a twenty-three year old with that sudden strike of clarity was downright amazing. It's about time, no?

Looking back, it's no wonder I don't enjoy my birthday all that much. It's not that I don't believe in using your day as a way to maybe, try and start directing your life in a way that you want it to go but it's not a time to beat yourself down and submerse yourself in all the things you considered you failed at over the course of the past year. It's also not because I don't think you should dream big, or aim high, or whatever else you want to call it. Go on, achieve it. If you set your mind to it, you can do it! Blah blah blah. But in my case, I focus so much on what I fail to do, it completely outweighs any and all of the actual good things I've done. Stuff that maybe, didn't quite make the original birthday letter but still good none-the-less.

With that being said, I'm done with those letters for awhile.

So, back to today. My Twenty-Third. A great friend gifted me with a new copy of "Oh, The Places You'll Go!" this morning and I found myself struggling not to cry. Between those brilliant illustrations and simple, powerful words, it just strikes a chord with my soul. Every single time. I've read it so many times in my life, I've known it by heart for years now, but I'm so thankful she chose that book of all things to give to me this year. However, when I opened it to read, it wasn't just the all too familiar words that tore at my soul this time. It's what she chose to inscribe on the inside that got me.

"Success = personal happiness + meaningful relationships = you are super-duper successful!!"

I think I'm going to try and take those words to heart this year, extra exclamation points included.

i'm just a shadow of your thoughts of me.

I can feel it. I can sense it. The dark cloud hovering, the terrible storm brewing ahead. The weight in my mind, my body and my bones threatens to crash down on me. I could write about how easily I allow it to consume me completely, wholly. That's the easy part, you know. Allowing it to sink in and build a home so deep within, it feels like it will never leave. All the things I would say, could say or should say are buried so deep down that it's easy to forget the good parts even exist anymore. All the things that I know to be true and right don't seem to be able to hold up to this invisible force of despair that threatens to take hold and never let go. Like clockwork, it comes.

The anxiety, the nerves, the racing of my heart, the feeling of loss of all control. The tailspin or the spiral, as I like to call it, it's there. Teetering on the edge all the while taunting and throwing every obstacle known to man in my way. Anything to knock me off course and fall flat on my face. It's a never ending game, this tailspin. One I'm ashamed to admit that I've allowed to win more often than not. But not without a fight, I'll have you know. Not without a knockdown, drag out, kicking and screaming fight. It's not until I'm completely exhausted that I go down.

However sometimes, it just gets to be too much to bear. There are days where even the thought of attempting to get out of bed is too exhausting, too much effort. Carrying the crushing weight of everything going on manifests into something that I'm not equipped to handle completely on my own. The monotonous schedule of life depresses me and it's just easier to curl up in a ball and exhaust myself crying over it. The sleepless nights where it just won't end. Those are the times when it's terrifying, the hopelessness of it all as if I've failed somewhere in life and it will never get better than what it is now. It's hard to be alone when it's like that. I'm not safe in my own mind.

But then in one way or another, I'm reminded of the good things in life. The activities or the moments where things are said (or not said) and my heart is able to settle down with contentment. The calming effect of just being near people I care about who somehow, in someway, always know exactly the right thing to say or do when I need it most. Soothing. Stepping up and just being there is more than enough to jolt me back to reality, even if its for a few fleeting moments, where it's sudden clarity and I can recognize that everything is going to be alright. The simple act of being in the same proximity as them serves as a reminder that this too will pass. The anxiety and the heaviness subside, leaving me with the recognizable parts of myself which I know are good and are worth fighting for.

I'm learning that everyday is not going to be sunny. It's okay to stumble and to fall and to pick yourself up only to repeat the cycle that is life. I'm starting to get that, understand it, and accept it even. Life is a test, and it can be cruel sometimes. But as long as I'm reminded that I don't have to journey down this road alone, I think I can manage the darkness that's ever looming. I can work my way through the clouds and back into the light that I know is there.

And the days where I really don't feel like being Mary-fucking-Sunshine 24/7? That's okay too. I always promise to alert people ahead of time. Consider that a fair warning.

dubsteps.

I don’t know what I’m searching for.

It isn’t a physical alteration that has me pining…at least I don’t think it is. I can color my hair, switch out contacts for glasses, take out piercings, change the way I dress. All of that I’ve done and will continue to do for the rest of my lifetime. I like to mix it up every so often, so that’s nothing new. And it won’t even begin to scratch the surface of what I seem to be on the hunt for.

I think I’m having an identity crisis.

I know what I am, what’s expected of me and what I’m supposed to do. I understand those roles and believe me; I perform them to an outstanding degree. So well sometimes I fear, that the parts get blurred with reality until I’m not sure which way is up, down, left, right. It’s not that these actions are not genuine because for the most part, they are. I’m not always on high alert, ready to feed people what they want to hear at any given time. That wall has slowly been chipped away at, with much effort, for awhile now and is coming down like the Berlin Wall. I listen, I feel, and I react. That’s something so ingrained in me at this point I couldn’t get rid of it even if I wanted to. But then again, that’s not the point.

I don’t know WHO I am.

Granted, I’m young. I don’t necessarily think that I should know who I am at this point, but it would be nice to have at least a basic understanding of it. I’ve heard people use countless adjectives to describe who I am, but they’re generic. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to hear these things of course (I may not be able to take a compliment very well, but I’m not a complete asshole) however, they’re descriptive of my personality - my emotions and actions, not so much my actual existence. Where I am in this world, how I fit into it and my contributions to it. Right now, those things can be answered in one word sentences: California, I don’t and none. Not exactly easy to describe, I would imagine.

It’s quite the reality check to see people my age with an actual niche in this world. They fill their life resumes with things like “college graduate”, “teacher / doctor / rocket scientist / etc”, “wife”, “mother”. I can’t steal any of those things and make them apply to my life. They seem so grown up while I’m the one at the bottom of the list with things like “great listener”, “music connoisseur”, “pop culture enthusiast” and “champion beer pong master.” My list, although admirable, does not scream “Hi, I’m approaching my mid-twenties and have a grip on my life”. It’s more like “Let’s get as drunk as we can and do stupid shit!” Yeah, party on Wayne!

It’s a little early to dub this an actual “quarter life crisis” since well, I’m not quite at quarter life yet. But before I know it, I will be and then where am I at? I’m not the kind of person that makes life choices just to appease living by the standard of which others expect me to (ok, I’m not that person anymore) so I’m not going to run out and get married, get pregnant or enroll in college just so I can fit myself into those categories. I just won’t do it, especially that whole pregnant thing. For obvious reasons, and my vagina is more than thankful.

I’d like something to just come out and hit me over the head screaming “DUH, YOU IDIOT” but that would be too easy, too obvious. If life has taught me anything, it’s that you have to weed through complete and utter bullshit before any sort of clarity is returned. Well, maybe that’s just my life.

I want to feel like my existence is worth something. That at the end of it all, everything'll even out in the books. That I’ve said and done what I wanted to do and the world is better because of it. Maybe that’s asking a lot. In fact, I know that it is. But I think I can get there. Eventually.

Baby steps. It’s all about the baby steps.

welcome home.

This week, I booked my flight to go back to Michigan for a week. It'll be my first visit back, since I moved two years ago. Suffice it to say, I don't know what in the hell to expect from the visit.

...except that from the moment I land at DTW, I'm going to want to come back home.

HOME, home. Home as in here, where I am right at this very moment. California. With it's sprawling mountains and clear blue skies, vineyards and incessant heat with no humidity. With my house, my car, my stuff, my life.



I realize this is an odd statement to make, considering I grew up in Michigan and all. My first twenty years were spent there; first experiences for everything. Graduation. Family. Friends. I knew the area like the back of my hand. But now? I look at pictures like the one above, and I struggle to put it together. It's like trying to place together this jigsaw puzzle of a former life I led, with pieces that seem to get smaller by the minute, losing the intricate details. Sometimes, they fall into place immediately. Other times, they do after awhile but lately, it's not coming at all. And I'm oddly okay with that fact.

Let me rephrase this: I don't hate Michigan. It's the place that I grew up. It's the place where my family lives, whom I miss terribly. It's the place that introduced me to some amazing people that I call my friends, and whom I can't wait to see again. But I'm just completely disconnected from the place. I have been for a long time, even before I moved. Is that weird? To live in a place your whole life and just feel like no matter what, you don't belong there? That there's something out there that is better and worth reaching for? Maybe an actual place you can love? Well, that's my thinking. In one big crazy nutshell tied with a bow.

Two years. It's not all that long of a time if you think about it. Two years is a long time for someone or some place to change. I don't expect the place to have changed. In fact, I know that it hasn't all that much. But for people to change? That's way more than enough time. Don't we all put this ridiculous amount of pressure on ourselves when it comes to proving others wrong? Or maybe that's just me. I feel like people are expecting this whole different person to come waltzing back into their lives (for a goddamn week, mind you) and blow their hair back with OH MY GOD, LOOK HOW MUCH YOU'VE CHANGED. When in reality, I'm still the same person - just a little older, much wiser and (hopefully) a little more tan. No valley girl accent, no glamorous L.A. lifestyle stories, just me. I want people to recognize that I'm the same person, just more finely tuned. I want them to see that everything that I've gone through and everything I've struggled with was worth it. And just how much I love my life and where I'm at right now, because it's helped me become the best person I can.

But most of all, splitting my time (equally) between my parents is what stresses me out more than anything. It's a never ending battle when it comes to stroking the egos of a divorced family. Fighting a losing battle, I think is what they call it? Oh well...I guess that's why they make pills designed to deal with these situations. And believe you me, I'm planning on stocking up on Mama's Little Helpers before this trip. It'll be what's best for all parties involved.

However, as for the godforsaken humidity I'll be experiencing when I'm there at the end of August? Shoot me in the head, now.

the post in which I have an epiphany.

So, a little-known fun fact about me: I can be extremely stubborn. Hardheaded, irrational, ridiculous. As well as egotistical, prideful and well, “independent”. I airquote the word because as often as I say that’s what I am and though I do believe that I am, to some degree, I’m actually not.

Did that make any sense? Well, WELCOME TO THE INNERWORKINGS OF MY MIND. I don’t get it either.

Let me back this up. Ever since I moved, I’ve developed this hardcore “I’m on my own and I need to do this by myself” independent streak. As the time goes on, this attitude does not waver. It makes perfect sense to me considering it was my choice to move and do this so asking for help from anyone is not an option to me. Well, let me rephrase, it’s not my FIRST option. It’s my very last go-to when I need something and when I say “very last” I truly mean that I’ve sold what I can of my belongings, lived off of Top Ramen and probably even donated blood for money in order to avoid the phone call or email to one or both of my parents asking for something. No, seriously.

I also recognize that I am probably not the only person that does this. I’m just one that emotionally berates herself over it for days prior to and weeks thereafter… giving me yet another great personality trait to deal with. And I wonder why no one wants to hang out with me?

So, I hate being offered help. In any way really, but monetarily, it kicks my ass. I equate it to me being irresponsible and having the person offering see me as being weak. I appreciate any and all consideration of my well-being of course, but I hate…and I mean HATE…that people even think that they need to consider helping me. It feels like an inner failure so I rehash and mull over the situation until I can no longer deal with it. It’s not fun, not at all.

I’m very aware that I need to get over this. Not only is it, quite frankly, stupid but the equation does not mean Help + Allison = Fail and I’m borderline special needs when it comes to anything math related . I figure it means that I did SOMETHING right in my present (or, past?) life and people that I know don’t want to see me fail. Holy crap, they’re actually on my side? Whoa. People actually want to help me without expecting me to get on my knees and grovel or sell my soul? NO WAY. I must have been a pretty awesome person in my past life to deserve to have all these amazing people around me now. Friends, family especially. I’m so fortunate for each and every one of them, even when they do make me cry for hours because I don't understand how they can like me so much.

Whatever. I’m totally having a martini with the man upstairs once I get there. Extra dirty, three olives. My treat.

better than a cheerio.

I don’t take compliments well.

I’ll be the first person to admit it, forever and always. It’s just not in my mind to accept someone consciously pointing out the better parts of my “wonderous being of light and splendor” –esque type personality. I get flustered and silly, yet always manage to stutter out a “thank you” at least… Mama did raise me right and all. It makes for a little uncomfortable scenario that I still have not quite figured out how to deal with in these twenty-some odd years of my life.

I’m not trying to be self deprecating when it comes to these things. I’m not depressed, I don’t have an issue with self-esteem it’s just NOT SOMETHING MY BRAIN IS EQUIPPED TO HANDLE… amongst many other things, of course. I can dish out the compliments to other people all day, yet when it comes back to me, it’s something different. One might say “if you can’t take the heat, then stay out of the kitchen” but I don’t think that’s applicable when the words out of my mouth are along the lines of “Your ass looks GREAT in those jeans” or “Those are the fiercest shoes I’ve ever seen” or I can sometimes even come up with something that doesn’t refer to clothing items or body parts. Believe me, it’s happened.

So with all that has been going on with me lately, it’s not like the compliments have been pouring in. It’s been more like, a mental smack-down going on in my head producing a withdrawn self and newly apparent devotion to Satan. However, now that I’ve gotten that lovely part of my wonderful personality subdued and under control, it’s like I’m back out in the real world now. And still just as sensitive as ever, awesome.

And flashback to last night, where I sat in the former dining room of the George household across from one of the greatest people I know as I haphazardly tried to explain what has been going on in my head these last few weeks while she tried to understand and tell me what I needed to hear (one of the many things I know I can count on her for). But at a certain point, these words that seemed to spill out of her mouth, about me, were unbelievably kind and sweet. I mean in the “make my eyes well up, throat constricts and heart hurt in a good way” words that she seemed to honestly believe. And by her being so earnest, I think I actually started to believe them myself.

It wasn’t until the tail end of our conversation that I really got it though. As we were finishing up, she said “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I see more value in you than you see in yourself.”

……………..

How does one respond to that? Not because I took it in the wrong way (she made sure of it) but really, what's the appropriate action when someone essentially says that they believe in you, they see more good in you than you do. That despite the fact that I find myself incredibly flawed and complex and downright insane for the most part, the good is still there even when I don’t recognize it. I just felt like it was that straight up "I've got your back" type love and it was just a lot to process all at once – those words, fighting back tears and relief while trying to keep my heart from growing exponentially and spontaneously combusting straight up from my chest and out my mouth. I try and save that type of Kodak moment for times where tequila is involved.

So if anyone needs a pep-talk, and I'm talking the type of one that you leave feeling like you can walk on water, lift mack-trucks straight up off the ground or channel your inner Jesus and part the goddamn sea, boy do I have a person you need to meet. Though she might charge you by the hour, it's so totally worth it.

playing the numbers game

It's a funny thing when you feel like the weight of the world (or um, future) is lifted off your shoulders. I guess that would be life as we all know it. Or life as most people know it if their name isn't Allison Kelly.

Wow, stop worrying and the crippling anxiety attacks and sleepless nights and bad feelings go away. WHO IS THE GENIUS THAT THOUGHT THIS UP?

I don't know what did it. What brought on this sudden ability of letting go and deciding that allowing things to fall into place is much easier than toiling over it endlessly for hours at a time. Maybe pure exhaustion, maybe comforting words of a friend, maybe realization of the fact that while I may believe that things are bad - they could be MUCH worse. Whatever it was or is, I am not fighting it in the slightest. In fact, I'm embracing it with wide open arms and the same level of excitement that I would have if Jesus Christ himself appeared and told me that not only was I going to win the lottery tomorrow, I would also wake up with the body of Britney Spears and Mariska Hargitay was going to be my new best friend.

...I'm pretty sure that accurately describes just how accepting I am of this feeling at the moment.

But really, I think it's more of recognizing that things are only as bad as I'm going to make them out to be. That I can sit back and whine, complain and bitch as much as I want but as we've all been told throughout our entire lives...that gets us nowhere. The only action is reaction and that's all I can do. At least, for the time being. My newly adapted snarky, sarcastic and probably borderline satanic behavior is pointless and suggests to people that I'm way worse off than what I really am (as it was brought to my attention today due to my inability to think before speaking or in this case, posting on Facebook. Which I will now refer to as the MECCA of taking things out of context) and that just makes things worse.

Irregardless of ongoing shenannigans, it just feels good to have that AHA! moment where I literally feel the crap that I allowed to build up just drop off like it was nothing. That million pound weight is slowly but surely getting lighter by the minute and it feels amazing.

This is what growing up is like..right?

one is the loneliest number.

I haven’t felt this way in a long time. Battered, beaten and defeated. The sleepless nights subside, only to return just when I think they’re gone and the 3am staring at the ceiling contests are back on, just like they never left. At least I get a break every now and then so I don’t go full on Psycho crazy due to sleep depravation. You’re welcome, everyone I know.

Life is pushing hard and I’m fighting to push back equally, if not harder, which is a struggle since it seems like my opponent is some crazy hybrid of Freddy Krueger, Godzilla, Mike Tyson and Satan all rolled into one. But I’m trying, I really am, it’s just not happening in the way that I would like. Granted, that’s been my problem from day one and it’s gotten better but when it comes to things like this (the words “desperation” and “panic” come to mind) my brain can’t seem to process anything other than OVERLOAD. OVERLOAD. FAILURE APPROACHING. COMMENCE FREAKOUT STATUS. thus, bringing me to the irritable, sleepless, overemotional mess that I currently am.

I think the worst part about this, the one thing that’s really getting to me, is that I don’t know how I let it get this bad. I mean, I do but at the same time I don’t. It’s not really just the financial thing (or, lack thereof) that is making me feel this way. It’s the fact that I’ve allowed it to reach this point where I’ve let it consume me so wholly. I feel it in the pit of my stomach, in my bones, in my mind all the time. I’ve allowed the anger, frustration, desperation and guilt to harbor and manifest there for so long – it slowly seems to become a part of me. Like a huge blanket of darkness, the frustration bubbles up and the anger spews out and the guilt that I allowed myself to be put in said situation when I’ve known for a long time that it would probably come to this. I don’t want to be a cold, broken, angry person but if we’re keeping score: Life – 100, Allison – 0.

I know what I need to do, and I know that it will happen. I HAVE to believe that something, ANYTHING better will come out of this situation as long as I pursue it with as much as I can muster at this point. Failing is not, nor has it ever been, an option that I’m willing to accept. So, I guess I’ve got that one thing going for me. I suppose I just need to put my head down and get through it, without compensating who I am in the process. This is a battle that I can win. I need to win. I will win. I guess my deeply embedded, over-competitive genetics will come in handy for something in this life.

eyes half open, glass half full

I'm a creature of habit. Always have been and probably always will be. The more concrete the plan the better and there can never be enough details covered, only too many things left out. I recognize this and realize that this also may make me one of the most boring person to ever walk this earth. However, it also keeps me from going crazy and progressing into a full-blown panic attack 99% of the time so, I take what I can get from the situation.

Needless to say, I'm not a big risk taker. Not in the slightest. I like what I know, I like what's comfortable. I need that, I love it, I thrive on it. No really, if someone so much as changes the perfume they've been wearing, I NOTICE. And have family members that can attest to that randomly, creepy fact.

As...troublesome as it may be sometimes, I firmly believe that it has also helped me develop a trait to my personality that is something that I actually really like about myself. It's made me really sensitive to the people who I interact with and their emotions, and then how I go about reacting to that. I guess what I'm really trying to say is that I'm a professional bullshitter.

Ok, maybe that's a little harsh but really, I'm am damn good at telling people what they want to hear when they want to hear it. It's a gift really, as it has continued to get me out of sticky situation after awkward situation over and over again. I embrace this personality trait like a favorite pair of jeans. Sometimes, it can get ugly but it's what I know and what I'm most comfortable in and wear all the time. (Yeah, actually my wardrobe really is that limited if you were wondering)

SO ANYWAYS - comfortable. That's where I was going with this. These last few weeks have been anything but. My routine has been thrown all to hell and I've been trying to reconcile the damage that has been done there which has led to many sleepless nights here these past couple days. Sleepless nights coupled with incessant pacing throughout my house at 3am to a soundtrack of David Gray none the less. I only wish that I'm kidding about this (the sleepless, pacing thing. not the David Gray thing, that man writes music that makes my hypothetical, probably never going to be born future children weep)

I'm trying, I am really really trying to open my mind and allow my brain to process that THIS IS LIFE. Life is not constant, it never is. I don't know what my whole issue is with it but it just can't seem to penetrate and stick in this so-called brain that I have. This constant, almost crushing anxiety of NOT HAVING a constant variable in my life is getting really old, really quickly. Plus, there's only so many times I can stare at my ceiling and tell myself that I need to clean my fan. And there's only so many times I can see that godforsaken St. Jude Childrens Hospital infomercial and cry my eyes out.

This constant state of stress and panic and apparent COMPLETE AND TOTAL INABILITY TO GET A GRIP ON LIFE is also what is keeping me up now, 1:00am on a Saturday morning and I haven't even been drinking. I'm just hoping that my roommates don't wake up, come out to the kitchen for a drink of water and see this creepy shadow just sitting in the complete darkness on the couch. I guess I just need to affirm to myself that I am trying, I really am. That making mistakes doesn't make me a bad person, or less of the person that I strive to be on a daily basis. It just makes me human and it makes me, me. I just need to convince myself that right now, that is enough.

caffeine and asprin take me away.

So, bad days.

Bad days, bad weeks, bad months, bad however long always seems like a lifetime. It's easy to slip into that mindset where it's easy to just be miserable and let it consume you. I'd have to imagine it's the same, yet different, feeling for everyone though that's still to be determined. For me, it's like a black cloud following me that slowly and surely escalates into something more along the lines of BIGGEST FUNNEL CLOUD OF MY LIFE wherein I am then sucked up and in and spun around and beat up until I can take no more. And then I get irrational. Like, not just over the issues at hand (aka: the ones that really matter) but I bring up events like "OH MY GOD, WHY DID I PICK THE PINK BARBIE CORVETTE INSTEAD OF THE BARBIE JEEP WHEN I WAS 5? I'LL NEVER FORGIVE MYSELF. THAT'S WHY I'M THE WAY THAT I AM, I KNOW IT"

... yeah, I've got more baggage than anyone probably should. Louis Vuitton would be proud.

ANYWAYS. When I get this way it's not pretty. And, that's being nice about it. So between the current issues I'm having coupled with my issues about Barbie cars when I was 5 and sprinkled with a nasty little cold that won't go away, I then go and lose my debit card. In the span of 10 minutes. ME. THE PERSON WHO HAS NEVER LOST SO MUCH AS A LIBRARY CARD IN MY LIFE. (Sidenote: I really hope that when/if I have kid(s) they don't inherit the insane amount of anxiety and masochism I apparently like to inflict upon myself. This type of mental torture is not fun.) so, when this happened, on top of my already shitty week and sickness, I was done, completely done. But as is my life, I had to suck it up and deal with it until I could lose my shit in the privacy of my own car.  Just as I was about to completely lose it - and just break down into a very embarrassing hysterical fit (because I am, you know, an adult) I look up to find that Stacy, aka: the best aunt in the whole universe, has walked in to surprise me with an iced chai.

AND IT WAS LIKE THE HEAVENS HAD OPENED, & WAS BEAMING A LIGHT DOWN ON THIS CUP THAT WAS FILLED WITH THE TEARS OF BABIES, UNICORNS AND RAINBOWS.  WHILE BEING STUFFED WITH $100 BILLS.

No kidding, that is the type of euphoric feeling that I got OVER THIS OUTRAGEOUSLY PRICED CUP OF COFFEE. I mean, more than anything, seeing her was the best part of it even though she tends to have this creepily scary accurate radar over me and when I'm in distress (like um, I dunno, saving me from being abducted / raped / murdered) but really, it was just what I needed at that exact moment. It didn't matter what it was, it just righted my world a little bit. I didn't feel so alone and isolated all due to her generous nature and my affinity for overpriced coffee drinks. I don't think that I would have ever been so happy to see a green straw in my LIFE.  I would say I've never been so happy to see her too, which is true but I am ALWAYS happy to see her face Starbucks or no Starbucks.

So, things are on their way back to becoming normal again. Well, stable anyway. And it was all thanks to a little chai tea latte that I sucked down almost immediately. Well, that and the Ambien + red wine coma that I put myself in last night. But that's another story for a different day.

pondering.

“Stay hurtable. Stay human. Stay open. It’s always worth it.”

what have we got to lose?

So, I maybe-kinda-sorta forgot about the self portrait project. Well, not so much forgot as abandoned I suppose. Oh well, I had an excuse. That very next day, Megan went into (what turned out to be) a 4-day long labor thus, I was not so much concerned with keeping up with the self portrait.  I'll get back into it when (if) I ever do. Leaning more towards the when though.

I'm teetering the mountain-esque edge between sick and not sick, which is more irritating than anything on this planet it seems.  It's not that I actually feel bad, but I have this irritating cough and my throat hurts which go hand-in-hand I'm sure (thanks, genius).  But I'd rather just get full on sick and be miserable for a couple days then just get over it, rather than have it drag on like this. In a perfect world, I just wouldn't get sick at all but, I save my hopes & dreams for more important things (ie: boning John Mayer and/or marrying rich)

So other than fighting with not-quite-sickness, I'm fighting my overwhelming urge to spring clean the hell out of everything that I own. I want to erase and get rid of EVERYTHING and just start over. Of course, I have recognized that to be a terrible idea for the most part (erasing my iPod to start over clean? I shudder at the fact I even CONSIDERED THAT AT ONE POINT) so I'm taking baby steps.  I'm just ready for spring (and warm weather) to be here, I think. Let's get a move on it Mother Nature.

a message.

I consider myself lucky for most of my life. I grew up with luxuries and opportunities that some kids just don't get.  I've never felt great tragedy, loss or anything of the sort. Twenty-two years, I remained unscathed and unaffected by that type of grief or fear.

My Dad had a heart attack on Wednesday morning. He's fine though, and doing well. Hospital and all that, so he's now resting. But I can honest to god say that I have never IN MY LIFE been so scared. Never in my life have a I felt so... out of control and completely helpless. Literally, my world came to a screeching halt. I'm pretty sure I even stopped breathing because I felt like I was going to pass out and throw up at the exact same time. Once that passed, the tears came (at a minimum as I was, of course, at work and I had to keep some sort of composure) and then when that passed, anger because I'm not there and frustration because I can't be.

All I want to do is hug my Dad, be near him and feel him. Be able to tell him that everything is ok and will be ok. But obviously, given the circumstances, that is not able to be done and it's eating me alive. I'm really trying, trying just so hard to remind myself that he is okay, and that worrying myself to death about something that I just can't control is pointless. But I can't shake this feeling. I can't shake this terrible feeling that now, I've had to face the fact that my Dad will eventually die. One day. Not any time in the near future (I hope) but eventually. And while that sounds really silly to say out loud because obviously everyone dies, I can't imagine feeling like I did for those few seconds but having that last for a LIFETIME. That darkness, and despair and hole that magically appeared at the mere thought of never being able to see him again. I just, don't ever ever ever want to feel like that again. Ever.

So, I'm slowly picking up the pieces. Trying to get everything right and in order again. But it's hard, really hard. Especially when I'm so far away but, I'll deal with it. Always do.

the silence is deafening

This 100+ degree weather is starting to get to me. I sit outside and feel the sweat pool around my temples and resonate on every exposed part of my body and it's just another weight that I need to deal with. I wish that I could sweat out all the emotions and feelings that seem to have piled up within the last three months, but no matter what, they stay.

This past summer has been particularly rough one on me. I'm not one to play the pity card by any means but, it has. From June and the catastrophic visit with my Dad, dragging through into July with other unexpected events and into this month where it's finally mellowed out, I'm still at the point as to where i'm expecting the other shoe to drop at any time. I hate feeling this way. Karma has its way of catching up, that's for sure. I keep this bottled up because in some way, I know that it will right itself. But I'm sick of waiting. I'm tired of the indecisive and inconclusive and the monotonous routine that I've brought on myself.

I've been being kind of hard on me lately - just with everything. & with every new engagement announcement, pregnancy shock and talks of graduation I can't help but feel left behind. Do I want to be married and/or have a baby on the way right now? NO. But the realization that people that I grew up with, people that I KNOW are getting married and having babies cause me to, for a fleeting moment, grow completely enveloped with jealousy. I'm jealous of what they are building. Going on to bigger and better things while my moment seems to have passed. My moment of independence is passed and now, I don't know what to do. I feel like I have no direction, with no inkling of which way to go. I wish I would have a moment where, much like I did when I decided to move, it just all becomes clear and I can see my path from that point on. I know that I'm the only one that makes those choices and decisions but I seem to have lost that spark, that ability to look something in the face and tackle it without question. But the future seems to hold so many more unanswered questions, it escalates the fear to a whole different level that I can't seem to grasp. I hate it. I hate being scared. I want to be strong. I want to find that part of me that I know is tucked away inside somewhere and pull her out. I can't make these decisions on my own. I need that guidance. Come on self, do me a solid and stop hiding.

I want to feel like the world is right again. Like I'm not teetering the edge of failure. I need a sign that everything is going to be okay.

one year (+ one day) later.

yesterday marked my official year anniversary of moving. Of changing, and making quite possibly the biggest and best decision that I've ever made for myself. Of finally following through with something that I WANTED and aspired for. And all within this last year, I've grown by leaps and bounds in just about all aspects of my life. All of which, I know that I've spoken about in great depth and detail many, many times. But there really isn't a way for my to truly, and I mean truly, grasp the concept of how I can be the same person yet so different.

When I sit down and really think about it - reflecting back on everything that's happened is quite a trip. I looked through my (written) journal the other night and there is all was, my life chronicled on paper right before my eyes. I found myself getting teary eyed, then angry, then laughing hysterically (what? I can be funny sometimes) and then teary eyed again. The emotions and thoughts that I had were not things I haven't dealt with before, but the way I wrote about them and digested them and tried to work them out was. And it's laid out completely, like I can physically see myself changing through the tone and structure of how I tried to work everything out. It's quite comical. Maybe one day when I'm feeling sassy, I'll scan some stuff in and people can really get a glimpse of how my brain really works (scary thought).


My thoughts on how or why I was able to accomplish this goal of mine, are quite scattered. Obviously, I went through the steps. First, I was able to do this because I am awesome and much more resiliant than I ever gave myself credit for. While this is true, taking into account all the trials and tribulations that I've gone though, had I just had myself to rely on; I came to the conclusion that I would have waved the white flag a long time ago. Okay, so next possibility. I got LUCKY. I'm talking the kind of luck that's more than just winning the lottery type lucky, I mean more along the lines of suffering a 80MPH head on car collision, getting thrown out the window for not wearing a seatbelt, rolling down a hill hitting every tree on the way and landing facedown in a river yet still surviving type lucky. I think I'm making my point here. While this is more likely than the first possibility and I'd agree with it to an extent, it's not exactly right.

So the third, last, and option that I'm going with is the fact that, I pretty much have the ultimate of ultimates, best of the best, most amazing people in my life. Family, friends, you name it - I got the best of it. Now, this obviously refers to the people I see / talk to on a daily basis but it extends to the people that I don't as well. My parents and friends back in Michigan, my best friend in Arizona, etc. All of them have contributed to my success and growth, in every way, at one point or another. Knowing that I have that, and have had that for quite some time now is a pretty awesome thing. I truly know that had it not been for them, I wouldn't have made it this far nor would I probably have wanted to. At the point where I was in my life, I needed a change and these people were directly responsible for helping me make one. That sole fact is something that I'll never be able to repay them for (not that it's expected) but it's something that is so important to me for them to know. This wasn't all my doing, I've done the labor work sure but they've been my backbone. Without them, I would have crumbled.

Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everybody I've ever known.
-Chuck Palahniuk

(eta: my new favorite quote.)

So, this year. These past 365 days (well, 366 I guess now) have flown by. I still know that it won't be easy and believe me, I still expect to stumble and fall every now and again but I've got a little weapon now. Whenever that terrible voice of doubt creeps up in my head, all I have to say to it is fuck you, Mr. Doubt! Because I've done this, have been doing this and will continue to do this. Thanks.

it's been a long day.

Some things never change.

I don't know why I have such a hard time grasping that concept sometimes, I truly don't. It's one of the least complex things in the world yet I fight it, tooth and nail, most of the time. Call it naivety or denial or whatever else but it's just what I do. And of course, this is something I don't realize until AFTER the fact, after everything has been said and done and the dust is beginning to settle - I have the cliched moment of clarity and it hits me like a ton of bricks.

"You've changed"

It's not that I don't know that. I can see it in myself and I swear to god, if one more person says it to me, my head might just spin around Exorcist style and I'll projectile vomit all over the place. It's just the truth. I have. I've acknowledged it, accepted it, even grown to love it like a fabulous pair of Louboutins but sometimes I realize it and I just freak out. More-so when I'm put into situations that I feel completely out of control (or uncomfortable) in and I revert back to the old shell of a person that I once was...or for those following the Louboutin analogy, going from those to a pair of knockoffs from Payless. They may get the job done for the time being, but we all know that they'll fall apart probably sooner rather than later. Plus you'll more than likely end up with blisters / burned feet. And that's exactly what happened.

My Dad's visit. Came and went and...it was, well, enlightening. I freaked out. I felt completely torn and uncomfortable in my own skin and I just, didn't take to it very well. Which then, after 5 days of course blew up like fucking Hiroshima Part 2. Right in my face. Everything was laid out, no card left unturned nor no word left unsaid. This was HUGE.

Skipping the complete and total "Days of Our Lives" melodramatic version (of which, I am absolutely exhausted from talking about) it was just, hard. Quite possibly, the hardest thing that I've ever had to do in my entire life. It was so foreign and uncomfortable for me to be so open with him that I quite literally, was on the verge of spweing up my entire crunchy roll and Sappuro as I was trying to convey to him just exactly how I was feeling and have been feeling for the past 3 years. Then at the same time I was trying to word it in a way as to not completely and totally demolish his feelings because contrary to popular belief, I really don't like doing that. Not on purpose, or to my Dad anyways. But whatever, so I'm there, spilling my heart, soul and tears over my crunchy roll in the middle of a packed restaurant, looking like a complete and total idiot and...in all reality, it gets me no where. I mean, he was listening but, not. When things got too serious, he'd crack a joke. Or he'd deflect and totally change the subject. Like, yeah Dad I'm happy that you're proud of me because I'm proud of me but OPEN YOUR GODDAMN EARS FOR TWO SECONDS AND HEAR ME OUT. But whatever, he knows how I feel toward him, toward CB and the most important being that he knows that his and my relationship is comepletely seperate from his and hers. He may not like it, but that's the way it needs to be for me right now.

Of course afterwards, because the end of our conversation was so memorable and gutting, I reacted like..well, lets just say I could have won an Oscar for my performance. But, it wouldn't have been a performance as it would have been real because trust, it was SO REAL. I could do nothing but cry. Cry, cry, cry, cry, cry. And I did that for about, 3 days straight. After they left the next morning (which, is a whole different story and just, not worth telling other than the fact that I experienced my first earthquake that morning too which by the way is 1. NOT FUN and 2. a sick joke from God) I was BROKEN. Completely and utterly, non-shamelessly broken. Gutted. Everything on this planet. And it went on this way for about a week, all crying and no sleeping. Sucks ass let me tell you.

But, it's done. I'm moving on. Our relationship is not irrecivably broken by any means. The door is there, the door is open. But I need that type of understanding to come from his side. I'm an adult, lets handle this in the adult way. We've passed the point of "I told you so" reasonings and have moved on to bigger and better things, and that's all I want. I want a relationship with him and he knows that. Even more so, I love him and always will. He just needs to get his crap together, that's all.

There were tons of other stories that happened and I just, would rather forget. And I apologized for his trip ending the way that it did because it was not my intention for it to go this way (in fact, wasn't my intention for this to happen at all, but that's another story for a rainy day) but I can't say that I regret that it did. It needed to. 3 years in the making, and there it was. I speak in past tense because it is what it is now, just done and over with. Now can we just move on? I'm still working through the feelings I have but it's just the process. Thank god I have the people I do to keep my head on straight. It's not like I already don't know what they're telling me but it's nice having different perspectives and just, hearing it from someone else that my feelings are valid and that I shouldn't be sorry for expressing them. I'm beginning to accept that changed part of me much easier now, and I like it.

sweet silver lining.

Things have been tough. Really, really, REALLY tough the last couple of weeks. All of this change and adjusting and everything has just really worn me out completely. Mentally, physically, everything. I'm just 110% worn out from it all. It's been causing a lot of anxiety and stress coupled with everything else going on, it became almost overwhelming and I didn't take to that feeling all too well.

I don't do well with people telling me how to do my job. This (type) of job, is all that I know and what I'm good at. I'm not saying that to make myself feel better or anything of the sort - it's just the truth. I'm good at telling people what they want to hear or what they need to hear and I'm likable. Truth. I've never had one person complain about me, EVER. In the 6+ years I've worked in this business, there has not been one complaint. So forgive me if I'm not completely open to you trying to force the way that you do things on me when in reality, it's obtains exactly the same results. Just... don't. I'm open for constructive criticism always, but other than that? No thanks, try again.

So there was that, on top of a few other things completely pulling my mind in about a million different directions too. So job. I'm still struggling with the decision on going back to school or not. I know that I have to but - I just don't know. I've never been one for it but I know that it's the right thing to do I guess? There's just so much time and what not that needs to be involved in preparation for it and that's something that I just don't have to give. Working 9 hours a day, 5 days a week really doesn't leave me with much time for anything else. So I'm stressed out about that.

My car's fuel pump is going out, apparently. That - is bad. It's not completely out at this point but eventually it will give out and I hope I'm not stranded somewhere that looks like Rapeville, USA with no cell phone service or something to that effect which would happen to me. It's just expensive, and I don't have the funds to do it right now. I'm hoping that it lasts and can hold out for awhile longer...please oh please let it last for a little while.

Mom and Grandma are coming next week to visit. I was completely stressed out about it - because of having to work and worrying about them having a good time and all that but, I'm kind of over that part. I work myself up with things like that when really it's not all that big of a deal. They'll be fine and they'll have a good time, I know it. I've got a ton of stuff planned for us to do in the 5 days that they are here, so that will be nice.

My Dad will be here the 13th-20th of June, and that's what I'm most anxious for. I was talking to Stacy about it last night and it all just kind of came out (like things tend to do when I talk to her, because I can't seem to keep my mouth shut at all) I'm just really anxious to see how things have changed. How the dynamic is different, which I'm sure that it will be. How he's changed and how I've changed and how our relationship has changed after this past year of not being there and me "steering my own ship" (her words, not mine). It'll be interesting, I just don't want it to be akward. Yet another things that's completely out of my control and that I need to let go, yet I just can't seem to.

Thank goodness for having the people around me that I do - I think I would have lost my mind (or quite possibly, have killed someone this week) had I not been able to talk to them. S especially. Considering I go on-and-on about here more often than not, it's just a true fact that I can't not talk to her. Even on Tuesday when I really just didn't want to talk, once she brought it up it was like I couldn't stop. Word vomit just came spewing up and it wouldn't quit. It's really easy for me with her, almost scarily easy to just vent and talk and look for her advice because well, it's good. I hate burdoning her with it, but the response I get...I just, need. Call me selfish, but it's the truth.

Oh well, things are starting to get better. They always do, but it's just hard to get through it at first. The last couple days, I've been walking again with S which has helped tremendously with the stress and anxiety. Just sweating it out and venting a little coupled with lots of laughter (which is guaranteed, more often than not) has pushed me through a little. I can always count on them for that. I'm pretty lucky in that sense.

looking for some hope, I polished off the whiskey tonight.

It was a great weekend. Just one really, really great weekend. a lot of discussion and exploring, infused by a ton of booze (but really, is anything else expected now?) but just in general; a fun and much-needed distraction from all of the other stuff going on inside my head as of lately.

Saturday night, I was presented with a question. Something that I've thought about on occasion but have never really digested I guess. In the booze filled night that it was, I was asked - "How do you like living here?"

With as many times as I've been asked that since I have been here, I've developed a quick answer to deter people from wanting me to elaborate. Not because I don't want to talk about it, it's just because I think that when I say anything more than "I love it.", it tends to - I don't know - complicate things? Well, it all makes sense in my head, but trying to put it into a way that I can explain it to others not in my head complicates things. So out of habit, I fired off the same answer I usually do to deflect. But in this case, it was followed by a question that I don't think that I've ever been asked - "...so, no regrets?"

It took me a minute actually, to let it register (I semi-blame the margaritas and many glasses of wine that were swimming their way through my blood stream at this point) but when it did, I honestly wasn't sure what to say. Not because I have regrets, because I don't. But more so because no one has asked me before, and I didn't want to sound like an idiot. It took its time slowly sinking it, kind of just washing over my (already fairly slow) brain. And I was left with not much to say other than what I initially thought. So, that's what I said. The truth, and nothing but the truth.

In all honesty, I don't think that what I've done is that huge of a deal. Not to downplay it or anything but people have been doing it for way longer. I look at it this way - there was nothing left for me where I was. Other than the people that I knew there, nothing tied me there. I was stuck in a state of just existence - not growing, not learning, not doing much of anything. I knew there was a place out there that I've always felt a connection with since first visiting and I knew there were people there that could understand that. So, I made the decision to move. Not to say that it wasn't hard, isn't hard and won't be hard because I fully expect it to be still. I think once I try and convince myself otherwise is when the real problems will arise. So, I'm sticking with that and moving forward. Thus, I get kind of embarrassed when I talk to people about it because like I said, it's just not something that epic to me. I guess, if I had been asked that question a couple months ago, I may or may not have said something different. But not once have I ever, even for a second, regretted or even second guessed my decision to do what I did. I got lucky, I really did. I said that too, when talking about me not regretting anything. Because I really, truly believe that I was lucky with the opportunity I was / am presented with. If I hadn't had such support from my family, I don't think that I could have come this far. I think of how J did what she did - moving so far away without knowing anyone - and I just know if that had been my case, I'd be in a completely situation than I'm in now.

I'm doing what I want for a change. I've got no one to answer to except for myself, and while I may not think that what I've accomplished thus far is anything to scream about - I feel like the growth that I've made as a person in such a short amount of time is much more admirable. Personally, anyway. Not to say that when other people recognize it, it doesn't feel good because it feels really good. Like all the work that I've done really shows and it's not just something I've been telling myself to get me through the day. I've really established some great relationships being here - sometimes I don't know what I would do without them. I think the thing that I cherish most is that I get to build upon these relationships while at the same time creating new ones and working on maintaining my old ones. That in itself it worth all the disagreements, arguments and tears (because believe me, there were some serious ones at some points) that I've had since leaving the place that I grew up.

So with the long story short: I love where I live. I have no regrets, and will never have regrets. It's almost safe to say that it was the best decision I've ever made.

Then in true to form family fashion, we polished off the rest of the wine while moving on to the next topic of discussion and then promptly went to bed.

Perfect weekend, just sayin'.