What I’ve come to want and need here

Sigh. I hate to admit it, but I’ve been struggling a bit lately with my corner of the Internet… let me preface this by saying NO, this is not a goodbye letter. I don’t understand those who give up their blogs as if it was just something they tried out for awhile. Writing and this blog are as close to my heart as marshmallows and bacon. (And if you know me AT.ALL., you know that’s pretty effing close). I will never give up marshmallows or bacon. I will never give up writing a blog. This bit of absence, however, has happened to me a couple times since starting this site four years ago. And, I guess I’m doing more of a “reevaluation” of sorts – out loud, if you will. What is this blog to me, and what do I need to keep a balance between my interest and my readers’.

Recently I’ve found myself with a lack of time to write. This happened to me the last time I got a new job – so I know that it’s a relearning of balance. That things will eventually slow down, and I’ll find myself here just as often as in the past. But, in the meantime I constantly worry about missing out on the blogs I read, the blogs of those who comment and read my blog. Of missing out on the community I’ve slowly built here in the last few years.Then, when I find myself with time to write – nothing strikes me worth writing about. Kinda like when it’s been so long since you’ve talked to a friend, that you can’t think of anything to tell them cause there’s really far too much to make notes on the minutia – so you focus on the BIG. But it starts to feel as if there’s nothing BIG and exciting enough to share.

I’ve also admittedly been struggling with how much I share and don’t share. There’s a weird paradigm with being a blogger…it works best to write your real feelings and real thoughts. To be raw and not hold back. To show the human nature that links together each solitary entity floating alone in this space we call life, or the Internet. The fears, and unhappy moments. The worry and dread, and elation and tears. All of which, are 100 times easier to share when you’re anonymous. But “anonymous” bloggers – and take it from somewhat of a pro – NEVER stay anonymous. Never. I’ve seen many a blog deleted because of this. No matter how hard you try, the social spread on the Web is way too far reaching, and eventually your ex, ex’s new girlfriend, boyfriend’s ex-wife, boyfriend’s mom, that girl you don’t really like and talked a bit of shiz about, an old best friend, etc. will find your blog. (All of which has happened to me). Sometimes I read blogs that are super funny and crass (maybe two things I used to be in a former blogger life), and I can’t believe that they’re saying these things. That they’re, GASP, tarnishing their online brand.

Because that’s all I can think about now. It’s my career for God’s sake. To care about an online brand. A social space. A name you make for yourself on the Internet that is ALWAYS there. In archives. In Google. God knows how I had the premonition to be this smart. But I was always very careful on how you could or could not find this blog. And to.this.day, you can’t Google my “IRL” name, and find it. I don’t link to it on Facebook or my branded Twitter. I’m still sort of leading a double life, even though I’m no longer sharing things here that are worth hiding. I’m aware that if my employer or boyfriend’s mom finds this, I don’t want to be embarrassed. So I censor myself, yet still don’t open it up to the waterfall of people in my life.

And quite frankly, I’m already so tired of censoring myself for this waterfall as I write. I want to say the things I think about without second guessing myself. I started blogging because of the therapy that writing provides me…yet somehow I’ve lost the ability to say what I need to say most to make myself feel better. That sometimes I second guess myself like everyone else. That sometimes it freaks the shit out of me to be dating someone with a kid and not act sunshiny about it all the time. That my relationship has been hard at times and has had its ups and downs. That sometimes my friendships frustrate me. My family hurts me. And I feel insecure that people don’t like me. That I worry I’m not doing this and that, and I’m almost 28. That sometimes I reminisce about things and people so far in the past that I wonder why they even surface in my mind. That while I might seem I have a fabulous head on my shoulders, that the pressure of this sometimes tires me. That occasionally I’m sad and bored, and I’m so insanely terrible at finances that I’m somewhat of a joke. Oh, and I don’t wash my face every night either. Sometimes I’m HUMAN. And that when I admit these things to the Internet, I won’t seem like less of a person to my ex, ex’s new girlfriend, boyfriend’s ex-wife, boyfriend’s mom, girl I don’t really like and wrote a bit of shiz about or my old best friend.

I can’t say a lot of this anymore because I’m editing as I write for the people I feel might or could read it.

And then there’s this whole 20-something lifestyle blog thing. I’ve changed and grown since I started this. I used to write about how drunk I got. Tell all the stupid and irresponsible stories I got myself into. Wax poetically about boy problems and dates, kisses and crushes. But I’ve grown up a bit. I care more about the food I’m eating, about learning to cook, about classes and trying new things, about exercise, books and exploring culture in my city. About my career and blogging professionally about the things I think about every day. About what I’m passionate about now. Cause I’m passionate no longer about drinking and being silly. I’m passionate about my career – I read just as many professional blogs that I read 20-something blogs. I want to write about a geeky new tech site I recently read about, without feeling like I’m boring my readers because I’m more interested now in tech gadgets than I am in Lemon Drops.

I want to find a balance of just the amount of posts to keep me feeling satiated between pressure and absence. I want to write my real thoughts and feelings in a space that I can share with everyone and feel comfortable with. I want to share my real life without the fear of being boring.

Is that too much to ask? Dear ex, ex’s new girlfriend, boyfriend’s ex-wife, boyfriend’s mom, girl I don’t really like and have written a bit of shiz about or my old best friend, don’t hesitate to let me know.

Currently Feeling: Like being on a BU-dget is BO-ring.
Currently Anticipating: Wine Rocks event on Thursday. Wine and fancy food paired with rock bands at a swanky restaurant, yes please!
Currently Needing: A new class or hobby to carry me through the winter – I always do better when I have a fun week-night activity to look forward to.

Luck, preparation & opportunity

I’ve been thinking in my head about how I’d write this post for at least three weeks now. Do you ever do that? Write blog posts in your head while something is happening, after it’s happened, etc? I guess that’s the test of a true blogger at heart. If only I could have managed to get it finished and posted three weeks ago…some of you have already heard the good news via Facebook or IRL.

But, I digress. I’ll cut to the chase.

Things have been a bit quiet here for the last two or three weeks because…

I FOUND MY DREAM JOB. (!!!)

Correction: not only did I find my dream job, but I interviewed my little heart out for it – a three-week, 10-separate-interview process that had me strung out like Amy Winehouse.

And then, I was hired for said dream job, and I had to keep it a secret for an entire week before the formal announcement. Do you know what it’s like to keep a secret in like that? Two words: balls hard. (That sounds awkward).

And oh hey Twitter haters – I did it all through the power of Twitter.

Now… for a quick explanation of what my “dream job” exactly means… Apologies ahead of time, for I think this is a topic that might bore some of you other than my most loyal, loyal readers and best friends. (Heart!) And I promise I’m not turn this blog from lifestyle into an industry-specific blog, but I’m just so dang proud and happy, I need to catalog this moment in time if for nothing else than a record for my future self.

For those of you who don’t know me personally, I don’t really talk much about work here. (Blogging 101, hello! Unless you want to get Dooced). But I think you could probably already pick-up that I’m a huge fan of social media. Of Facebook. Of Twitter. Of blogging and networking online in communities such as 20-Something Bloggers, LinkedIn, Flickr, Yelp and more. Of the Internet in general, technology, computers. Of how it can all make your life so much easier. Make you more knowledgeable. And also make you broke. (Oh Amazon.com, RueLaLa and Etsy, how I love thee). How it breaks down barriers in time and distance and opens opportunities for happenstance, connections and friends.

My interest in the online world started with blogging, stemming from my love for writing and my journalism degree in college. Blogging allows anyone to be a published writer. And Carrie Bradshaw just sexified it for me even more. I took turns blogging for a local Seattle Web site and then became a “dating” blogger for a local newspaper. And of course, there’s this little baby that I’ve had for nearly four years now. But, it wasn’t until my last job that I realize social media – blogging, Twitter, Facebook and more – could actually be a career. And I could do it every day and get paid for it. I wouldn’t have to click out really quickly when someone came walking up behind me at work. Or worry that the IT team could tell how much time I’d been spending on the Internet. Hey – maybe I could just find a job where I was supposed to be on the Internet all day. Supposed to read blogs all day. Wouldn’t that be neat?

I think that some people will look their whole lives for something they’re passionate about that they can turn into a day job. For me, this is social media. I eat and breath this stuff. I started to think long and hard about how I could get up every morning to do what I’m most passionate about.

So over the summer, I decided to take a much-needed mental break off. (Hello best summer Seattle has ever seen. Hello private dock on Lake Washington. Goodbye natural tan lines I’ll never see again). I gathered my wits about me to figure out exactly what I wanted to be doing and where; I made a note to never let myself feel as unhappy in a job as I had been this past year.

Detoxish Type Thingy

Today I am starting a summer slim down detoxish type thingy. I prefer to call it a thingy instead of a diet because I’m an avid anti-crash diet type of a person. I’m abhor things like the Cabbage Soup Diet or those weird liquid diets made from lemon juice and cayenne pepper. But, I recognize the fact that I sometimes need a little jump start to again realize how great negating certain things from my daily food intake can make me feel. Like duh Je, pizza and beer make you feel sleepy, bloated and run down. Plus, I have an entire lake weekend planned in a couple weeks with all 10 of my high school girl friends who are triathaloners, marathon runners, nutritionist grad school students, skinny, size four biatches. As sad as it is to admit, at a size 8, I often feel HUGE around them. I would just like to feel proud of my curves and muscles, which means getting rid of just a little more squish. (Even though I successfully took off 10 pounds before leaving for Mexico in April by sticking to eating right and exercising via the help of SparkPeople.com).

I read about this detoxish type thingy on Pretty in the City. It’s from a nutritionist, and is focused on veggies, fruit, lean protein, healthy grains and healthy fats. I’ve been doing some version of this for at least three years now (based on the South Beach Diet, with low sugar and complex carbs), but am often falling off the wagon with a combo of my love of dinners and happy hours, and the contents in my boyfriend’s fridge. So, I’m going to try to do this for at least two weeks to kick my butt back into shape. And since weight loss is a 70 percent diet, 30 percent working out equation, I will supplement this with Jillian Michaels’ DVDs, paddle boating, bike riding, rollerblading and a jog or two if I can push through the boredom.

Yesterday I bought all the ingredients for the diet, and was able to purchase everything at Trader Joe’s, which thrilled me. I spent an hour or so, chopping everything up into freezer bags since it’s largely vegetable based and easier to just grab a handful of pre-chopped veggies to throw into a scramble or salad. It will be a lot of preparation and discipline, but I have nothing but time on my hands, so I don’t think that will be an issue for me.

I’ll keep you guys updated here, if you want to know how it goes or are interested in doing it yourself. To read the detailed plan for the detoxish type thingy, click through to the link for Pretty in the City. Wish me luck!

Currently Feeling: Super excited to head social media marketing for Girl Power Hour (a volunteer opportunity I took on as of yesterday).
Currently Anticipating: Trying out hot yoga with my sis tomorrow. (I had to cancel on her last week).
Currently Needing: To visit my friend Justin in L.A. I’m so bummed I had to cancel my Fourth of July plans there because I got laid off!

And so it goes

Reeling. Reeling plus moments of elation. Ever felt that?

I imagine there are a few BIG moments or changes in life when this happens. Moving to a new city for a job – elation because you scored a great position at a great company, reeling from the unknown. Marriage – elation because you’re marrying the person you love with every atom of your being, reeling because it’s TILL DEATH DO YOU PART, or a mucky divorce. Childbirth – elation because you have a little human in your hands that is 50% you and 50% the person you love, reeling because you have no.idea what it means to be a parent; what if you poke them with diaper pins, or cut their fingernails wrong?

Reeling. Reeling plus moments of elation. This is me right now.

I came into work yesterday with a 10 a.m. “touch base” calendar invite from my boss. A calendar invite with no details, the day after you just “touch based” on all your projects, is never good. I was sweating a little bit, knowing that I was probably getting a lecture of some sort for something I’d done wrong.

You never think it’s going to be you.

“This is really tough, budgetary cuts, it’s not performance based, blah, blah BLAH.”

Ladies and gents, step right up, welcome to unemployment. Yes, yes, I am part of the recent, ever growing statistic. It’s funny, one of the first things that went through my mind was, “Well this is a bad luck dress.” I’ll never put it on again without thinking, “This is what I was wearing the day I got LAID.OFF.”

Needless to say, my mind has been reeling.

Reeling from the financial instability. It’s scary to have your expendable income taken away. I spent yesterday canceling the frivolous – no more executive club gym membership (thankfully, the summer sun allows for jogging, bike riding and rollerblading outside), no more tanning membership (probably better for avoiding da cancer anyway). I looked in the mirror, and thought about how bad I need a color and cut, but just can’t justify it. Nor can I justify the pedicures. I’ve thought about all that I can sell and am planning to have that garage sale I was planning a month ago. I’m kicking myself over the last three pairs of shoes I bought, the bike, the books, the clothes, the jewelry. You always wish you had some sort of warning; maybe I’d been a little bit more frugal. I went to the grocery store yesterday, and it gave me a headache to analyze every purchase and put back items I wanted but didn’t really need. I have spent so long not thinking twice about money; it’s an adjustment, to say the least. I gave myself a stomach ache, calculating my severance and my 401K, minus my living expenses. I’ve already started pinching pennies – who knows how long this will last.

And then occasionally, I’ll go “OMG.I.DON’T.HAVE.A.JOB.” Will I have to move out of the fancy apartment I love and back home with my parents? Will I have to sell my car? How long will it last? I have to interview and apply for jobs again…right away… Right.Away. I have to update the resume…have to practice interviewing again…need to search job Web sites daily…

Reeling.

But then I get bouts of elation.

I DON’T HAVE TO GET UP AND GO TO WORK! NO MORE TGIFs. NO MORE BLAH MONDAYS.

That, to say the least, is just a little bit exciting. I never liked my job. I was doing some of what I wanted, but the position turned out to be completely different than what I thought it was going to be. I didn’t like my company, or what we stood for. (I can say all this now that I don’t have to worry about losing my job). I went from a global nonprofit, where my job was to run a program for villages in Africa, to a company that is driven by the bottom dollar, rich old white men, and working long days so our client – the broker – can make 15 million a year instead of 5. I had zero drive to stand behind the company. And I’ve realized this is something I need in a job. Not necessarily working for a nonprofit, but at least a bit of pride in my company’s product.

I had a boss that made it hard to get up in the morning. I was treated pretty bad. I left work in tears on numerous occasions; I had anxiety problems for the first eight months; I was scared of her temperament on a daily basis; I was micromanaged to the point where I was nervous every day – nervous that I’d forgotten about item 21 of 40 things to do. Sunday nights were always depressing to me because I was counting down the hours until I had to go back in. I was held under her thumb; I was supposed to do her expenses, call restaurants to make dinner reservations, make her flight arrangements, reserve rooms for her meetings, and grab bottles of water for her and the meeting attendants. I was not hired to be her personal assistant. Let me repeat. I was not hired to be her personal assistant. I felt like my level of education, and skill set in the market, was way beyond what the position ended up being after she lied about what it entailed when I interviewed and took the job.

I was not happy.

And now, I feel elated. Now I get to reclaim a bit of myself. I have had a job, solid, since I was 15. It was McDonald’s (yes, that was my first job, isn’t that awesome?), to waitressing, to being a receptionist at a salon all through college. I worked three jobs during the summer to save up for a two-month backpacking trip in Europe – delivering pizzas, scheduling perms for little old ladies and taking orders at a teriyaki joint where the non-English-speaking owner liked to stick his hands in my back pocket and lift me up in tight, bear hugs (Um, red flag?!). I worked commission-based at a clothing boutique in Seattle where I was in tears nightly because I had an outrageous sales quota to meet, hated pressuring girls to buy, and would get reprimanded each evening for not meeting the quota. The owner liked to tell me to stop eating cause I was a size 8 and their largest size in the store. I worked as a barista straight out of college until I landed my first “real” job at the nonprofit I mentioned above. I worked there for three years, until I transitioned into my last position.

I want. A few days. To myself.

And I want a lot of days with my best friend, who works an opposite schedule from me, and a lot of days with my other friends, who are also unemployed right now. (It’s happening to a lot of us). I want to sunbathe at beaches this summer, hike, read the looong list of books I have in the queue right now (more on that later). I want to rollerblade and bike ride during the day. I want to wear sundresses and flip flops every day. I want to wake up and make an egg scramble and a latte, and write and read blogs. I want to go in paddle boats, float rivers, drink beers, sleep in, stay up late, roast marshmallows at bonfires on the beach. I want.to.enjoy.my.summer. It’s so exciting, I can hardly stand it. I finally have had responsibility lifted off my shoulder for a short time. And I don’t have to feel guilty because the decision was made for me.

Unemployment – elation because I get to reclaim my life for a bit, spend my days doing only what I want to do and find a job I love, reeling because I have a lifestyle I’d like to keep, and I have no idea how long this will last.

Currently Feeling: A little nervous to go back in and clean out my desk.
Currently Anticipating: Lake Chelan this weekend for my BFs work trip!
Currently Loving: Trader Joe’s new fat free frozen yogurt, with a few berries sprinkled on top.

Sushi 101

Sushi class last night was fracking amazing.

I arrived, hung over and exhausted from a sleepless week that I couldn’t seem to catch up from. A three hour cooking class, immediately after work, felt like someone was asking me to climb the Himalayas while stoned, with only one leg and a blind mountain guide. Basically – how am I EVER going to make it through this?!

But, it wasn’t long before the energy in the class ZINGED me wide awake. I found myself joking around with the other people in the class, laughing a lot (my favorite), smooching my boyfriend when I could sneak it in and rollin’ some of the best damn beginning sushi rolls I’ve ever seen, if I do say so myself.

The best part about our class was that it was also a sake-tasting class, so we had about 20 bottles and five different types of free-flowing sake. That stuff isn’t as bad as I remember it being after playing drinking checkers with sake bombs for Mardi Gras in 2002. (THAT was a bad night). The instructor also bumped music while we all hustled and bustled around the kitchen. Tunes from Led Zeppelin, Fiona Apple, Kanye and other randomness kept us moving while we learned how to make basic sushi rolls with some really amazing ingredients – anything we wanted out of Whole Foods, basically. Tuna, shrimp, real crab, fake crab, veggies, cream cheese, yellow tail – even Copper River salmon. We also made a number of other Japanese dishes, including miso-glazed eggplant, gyoza (pot stickers), steamed clams with sake, udon noodle soup, Agadashi tofu and a green tea shortbread cake. Then afterward there was A GREAT BIG FEAST, obvs. It was so fun.

I learned some very key tips about making sushi – like how to make the perfect sushi rice (did you know you have to add a mixture of water, rice vinegar, sugar, sake and salt to the rice??); that inside-out rolls (rice on the outside) require you to use saran wrap on your rolling mat and sesame seeds so the rice doesn’t stick; that you MUST wet your fingers down before touching the rice cause that shiz is sticky; and how to perfectly cut the ingredients.

Here are some pics:

[BTW - Did I mention this is the FIRST thing to officially cross off my Bucket List? (!!!)

Currently Feeling: SO freakin excited to pick up my new bike from REI today.
Currently Anticipating: A weekend away at Osoyoos Lake. We decided to try something new this Memorial Day – I’m looking forward to wine tasting on our new bikes!
Currently Loving: That I seem to be dropping pounds without trying too hard now? Weight lifting is the best. You burn calories even when you’re not working out!

Sometimes I laugh like a hyena

Packing, moving and unpacking all went well this weekend. I missed a Bacon, Bacon, Bacon Saturdays for Breakfast post because I was busy doing the latter from 11 a.m. to 8 p.m. on Saturday, so forgive me, all two of you who look forward to those.

I was too busy having mini orgasms from the dishwasher and washer/dryer in my new place this weekend to do anything fun. Or have real orgasms, apparently. My boyfriend now has to fight for my attention. I am in love with my appliances. (He already feels inferior to one “appliance,” so I might just lose him over the new additions. I might end up a lonely spinstress with my cat and my appliances. God help me.) I have been washing things that were always deemed not worth the dollar or time it took in my last place – and everything is so shiny, sparkly and CLEAN. I feel so unlike myself. Dirty is my middle name. But onward and upward! I am a changed woman!

*Riiiight*

The move-in went as smoothly as I could have hoped, I suppose. Minus the fact that my beautiful CREAM micro suede couch had to be moved in BY ROPE to the FOURTH FLOOR BALCONY. I managed to catch it on the Flip video cam. You will probably be mostly bored by this video since my videography skills are lacking, and clearly I need to learn how to “talk to my audience.” However, you might want to watch it if you would like to hear me snort like a hyena or a squeeky see-saw. Kinda like this: hahaha HUUUH. HUUUH. HEEE HUUUUH. That happens somewhere around 1:18.

Move it along now, move it along

I think I might have mentioned a bit in the last couple weeks that I’m moving. I’ve lived in my apartment in Seattle for more than two years now. It’s officially the longest I’ve ever stayed in one place since I’ve been 18, and I’m slightly attached. It’s walking distance to everything, has “Old World Charm,” hardwood floors, two walls of windows that overlook Puget Sound and a rooftop patio with 360-degree views of the entire city. BUT, it also has the tiniest closet you could ever imagine (I’ve opted to use my bed and floor for increased closet space, so that’s getting really old), no dishwasher, coin-operated washer and dryers, and a kitchen so ancient that I’m pretty sure it predated my grandparents. (The color of my appliances is actually called Harvest Gold, if that tells you anything).

So, when a great new roommate came along, I bit her bait when she asked if I’d be willing to find a new place, rather than have her move into my soon-to-be vacant second bedroom. The decision to move out is something I feel both super excited and super bummed about. I’d been holding out on signing another lease because of that whole “wanting to move out of Seattle this year” thing. Le sigh. But, the prices available right now for renting were too great to pass up. If the bad economy is doing one thing – it’s making everything cheaper and more affordable. It’s hard to be bummed about signing another lease when I’m moving into a place that is newer, even closer walking distance to everything, with a washer, dryer, dishwasher, two balconies, my own bathroom and my own garage parking spot – for LESS than I pay now. And I didn’t even have to give up the water and Space Needle view. Can you believe that?

I’ve spent the last two weeks saying things like, “I can’t believe I’ll never have to do another sink of dishes again!” “I’m SO excited to never have to pay for laundry again!”

So this week I’ve been futilely attempting to pack up my “life.” In this apartment, I’ve acquired a lot more STUFF than I’ve ever had before. Each box I fill and each box I tape, I ask myself, “Why in the HELL are you moving out, again?!” I know I don’t have to tell you that moving is seriously the most miserable thing. Right up there with oh, um, funerals, stubbing your big toe and Hillary Duff concerts. Which makes me second-guess signing another lease even more because the thought of doing this again in less than a year makes me want to pluck my eyelashes out one by one. Or dry shave. (Are those enough metaphors to get my miserable point across?)

The weirdest part of packing is going through all the drawers you rarely open, finding stuff you didn’t know you had, sifting through the memories… I’m not a pack rat, but I do carry sentimental value with few items that I’m not ready to let go of. Last night I cracked a bottle of wine and allowed myself to linger and look through things while I packed. I read pages of journals from college about feelings I don’t remember having. I read love letters, break-up letters, birthday cards, poems I wrote, college essays (I actually wrote a persuasive essay for English 101 about how Eminem is the greatest artist of all time), and looked through pictures that I think were of me; it was almost an out-of-body experience. I looked at a girl who I know was me, but I don’t really remember being that girl. Life is so weird. I can’t tell you how much I can relate with the whole “life is like an onion” comparison. I feel like I’m continuously peeling away layers of myself to find a new self inside.

So this is the first time that I’ve moved since college where I’ve taken a look at all the sentimental college stuff and asking myself why the hec I still have it hanging around… Do I really need a desk chocked full of all the magazines I was Editor in Chief for, or all my newspaper article clippings? Do I really need rainbow candles, snowboard company stickers or a penis figurine? I finally boxed everything up that I haven’t needed or looked at in years, and am trying to be super picky about what I don’t throw away. I want one of those clean, uncluttered, “adult” rooms that have everything in their proper storage bins ala Trading Spaces or Real Simple.

So, the time has come to let go of all those college items and memories that are really lovely inside my head, but don’t necessarily need to be outside of boxes anymore. Time to peel away another layer…

Currently Feeling: Cheerful, bright and sunny.
Currently Anticipating: Signing the lease and getting my keys tonight!
Currently Loving: TextsFromLastNight.com So freakin hilarious; it’s made my Friday.

A trinket from my memory shelf

This past weekend I headed up to Victoria B.C. for a friend’s bachelorette party, with a teeny stop along the way in my old college town to stay with a nearest and dearest friend on Friday night. I haven’t been back in more than a year – and haven’t stayed more than one night since I graduated four years ago. But, as soon as I drove around the Evergreen-lined bend of the freeway and saw the approaching exit sign with “Western Washington University” on it, my face stretched into a huge grin.

Bellingham has been deemed one of the best places to retire, and now that I look back – it was one of the best places to go to school. As I drove through the familiar streets on my way through the sleepy town, I, quite literally, took a trip down memory lane. I thought about all the bus rides I took to school, bumping people with my huge art portfolio that carried the naked sketches I’d managed to do without busting at the seams (a wrinkly penis from an 80-year-old man is really hard to look at for three hours without wanting to giggle). I remembered the party where I chipped my tooth, the night I accidentally left my friend in my trunk, the day I partook in festivities from 4:20 in the afternoon until 4:20 in the morning, and the afternoon I made out underneath a sleeping bag on the cliffs of Larrabee State Park. I remembered eating popcorn at The Beav and shaking my groove thang to 80s music and Journey at The 3-B. I thought about Belgium waffles and buffet breakfasts in the cafeteria, the house on the corner with bumper pool, a dozen pink roses on my birthday and holding hands in the park, Franzia wine in a box, and frantic mornings I spent at Kinko’s, printing out my graphic design projects after I stayed up more than 24 hours to finish them. I remembered drinking 40s on Thirsty Thursdays, walking through bars, searching for half empty pitchers left by people I didn’t know, interviewing bands, restaurant owners, mothers and graffiti artists for the school magazine, and painting my nails every day at the salon I worked at. As I drove, I thought a lot about laughter, a lot about friends and a lot about heartache.

“It’s hard because I have some of my best times here and some of my lowest,” my girl friend said as we drove together on our way back through the town after our girl’s weekend.

What is the expression – “nail on the head”? Yeah… that.

College was, well, amazing. There is no other time in my life that I’ll get to live in a community with thousands of people within three years of myself, start a life for the first time without parents, or have my only commitment be three hours of class a day. I will never get to skip work just because I want to watch The Price is Right. But, I also went through some bad roommates, losing a few good friends and a little bit of heartache.

I think life is a lot like trinkets on a shelf – there are parts of yourself that hold either a tiny memory, or a lot of memories, that are put up on a shelf and seldom thought about, until you take that trinket down for a minute, dust it off, rotate it in your palm, smile or feel sad, and then put it back and continue with your day…

For me college is one of my most cherished trinkets. When I take down my college life off the shelf and think about it for more than a fleeting second, I do occasionally get a twinge of sadness. But, for the most part it makes me grin so big that I can’t hold it in.

Those memories will be with me forever.

Currently Feeling: Twitterpated after our spaghetti dinner and cuddle under the covers date last night. After four days away, our reunion was quite nice.
Currently Anticipating: Finding a fancy new place to live, with a dishwasher and a washer and dryer! Imagine that.
Currently Needing: Something to knock me out for the plane ride to Mexico. I’m already getting nervous. I freakin’ hate flying with a red hot passion. When did I become so neurotic?!

Possible ways to fall in love with my staying-in life

I was explaining to Bestie Amanda last night my “In Limbo” post, and she had a great amendment – “It’s like a limbo between feeling like you want to go out and that it’s sooo much fun, but then once you’re out, not really enjoying yourself as much as you remember you once did.” Precisely. I should just have her write my blog for me.

Anywho, a number of you have related to me, either in conversation or within the comments, about feeling the same way now or at one time. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one, and this too, shall pass. Since writing it, I’ve thought about some ways in which I can possibly fall in love with my staying-in life:

1. Yoga - I want to make it a goal to continue to go to the class I’ve been attending on Mondays. I like having something to look forward to on the usually dreaded start to the work week.
2. Hobby Crafts – I’ve been intrigued by the blog ladies I know who are making greeting cards. I think it’s a great idea since those little devils are like $5 a piece these days. Also, one of my good girl friends swears by scrapbooking and does it every Sunday. Seems a bit more for the older crowd, but I’ve got 3,000 plus pics that could really use some printing and organizing. I’ve also always wanted to learn how to sew (on my life list). I think it could do me some good to channel my creativity into an art form.
3. Cooking Classes – I’m thinking sushi making (also on my life list) or a wine pairing class with my boyfriend and some friends.
4. Lap Swimming – It doesn’t hurt to try, right? I could start with swallowing my pride with a purchase of one of those damn ugly hats and a pair of damn ugly goggles (Perhaps if they’re pink or LEOPARD print I’ll like them a little bit more).

In limbo

The past two weekends, I’ve been out and about in a couple different bars in Seattle that I used to call my stomping grounds, but not so much anymore. Without being able to pinpoint when the exact transition happened, I found myself feeling a bit older than the crowds, a bit less likely to puke in the bathroom or knock over someone’s drink while stumbling by, a bit more likely to head home early so I can get up and jam out a workout or list of errands without feeling like death. I felt out of place in the singles scene – something I thrived in just a short year ago. I felt out of place in the 20-something scene – despite belonging to the club for another three years. In each bar, I looked around the room and thought to myself: getting old sucks.

I used to be the 22-year-old out with her group of stylish friends who made guys’ heads turn. I used to know bartenders, door guys and cocktail waitresses. I used to be able to post up at bars where I knew everyone and had all my drinks discounted. I felt like I owned the city – I could go out at a number of different bars in a number of different neighborhoods and see people I knew. I was a networking, friend-making, drinking and bar-scene machine.

But, that’s all tapered off. The thought of getting up in the morning to make it to work by 8 a.m. makes me want to stab my eyeballs out. Throw booze into that equation, and I’d be burning through my sick days faster than I could accumulate them. Read: I’m a sucker for going to sleep early on “school nights.” And, I feel like more often than not, I’m opting for one stay-in night and one party night on the weekends. When I go big both Friday and Saturday nights, I’m left feeling like I need a weekend from my weekend.

“I feel like just another face in the crowd,” I said to my boyfriend, after explaining all of this awkward “I’m not that girl anymore” stuff to him on our walk home from one of these said bars Saturday night. “You’re still cute. You stand out to me,” he responded.

Cute or not, I’m feeling a bit awkward these days. People say moving into your upper 20s, and eventually your 30s, is great. We’re supposed to be more financially stable, more sure of ourselves. I’ve been wondering when the pay-off happens because at 27, I’m feeling too old for some bars; okay with staying in, but depressed with the lull of life; financially semi-stable-but-a-lot-of-times-rocky; and generally a little unfulfilled.

I’m trying to find something else that fulfills me other than feeling like the center of attention in a bar – something a bit more healthy and sane. But the transition, the next “phase” of life, which most people my age are going through, is just another awkward room where I feel like I don’t belong. Marriage in my 20s is just not for me. Sometimes, I think back about all the ridiculous shenanigans and stories from my 20-something days of being out six or seven nights a week, and I feel like I was laughing and loving a whole lot more back then. Or at least saying to myself, “I LOOOOVE my life” a whole lot more.

I need to fall in love with my life again – the one where I’m staying in more often than I’m going out – I just don’t know how to do it.