I know what you're thinking...

Oh.My.God.Pink.

I'm trying out some new layouts in hopes that it will actually motivate me to write something. Not saying that it will actually work, but it's worth a try...

right?

get into the spirit!

So this really isn't an update but this is something you should know about.

For the upcoming holiday, my friend is posting a countdown of the 13 days till Halloween by posting a new scary tale every day! Neat, right?! I know.

So go here and get into the spirit!

Happy Halloween!!

It gets colder than this...?

"We'll show you fucking freezing up here..."
--co-worker, recently on the temperature

For all intents and purposes, while I live up here I will label myself as a Southener. (Although, I'm a really terrible one in real life. Seriously, ask any of them.) I'm used to 80 degree Thanksgivings and rainy Christmases. Tank tops all year round if accessorized with the correct shrug. (Yes, I just said shrug.) The most important and my favorite item of this dress code:

The flip flop.
(As seen here in Salem walking the wharfs.
I wear them no matter the terrain.)

I've (over)heard a lot of talk lately about the end of flip flop weather. But I don't know how to live in a world without flip flops. And I'm going to learn the hard way because

1.) Flip flops are not a choice. They are a lifestyle.
2.) I don't own any other shoes.
3.) I don't want to live in a world without flip flops.

So...this winter should be interesting, right?

It’s funny how things come about.

**It’s been awhile since I’ve been on here. Semi-reintroducing myself back into the game with this post.

After I graduated from college and had to move back home, I kept making deadlines for myself to be moved out and on from my childhood home. Not that I was desperate to leave but I wanted to take that next step. But every time that date just got pushed further and further back. Until I didn’t think I would realistically “grow up” unless something fell into my lap.

Something did.

After the up-teenth time of telling myself that I would move out by such and such a time, I finally began telling myself that I would be out by 25.

It actually happened.

This opportunity to move out and beyond North Carolina was the easiest thing to bring to fruition. Maybe that means something.

So here I am.

New England.

New Adventure.

Bring it.

another one gone.

new year, same fall restlessness.


i can't promise i'll be more faithful to you.
but i'll tell you that i'll try.

i've lost a whole year here.

[wow. i haven't posted in over a year. almost to the day. fail?]

fall is my favorite time of the year. it always has been.
it always marked new beginnings for me. there was a sense of change.
for almost 20 years, school started come fall. for me that was the real "new year."
it was time to buy new things, try new things, start anew.

but for the past couple of years, i only seem to get restless.
restless because there is no real sense of change anymore.
no new beginnings.
sure, the season is still changing but for me school is no longer in session. there's no looking forward to new classes, new pens and notebooks [and i am a sucker for school/office supplies], new opportunities.

so i'm making new changes and beginnings. making my opportunities.
as of last month, i've started created new little goals. new changes for each month.
some big, some small.
some silly, some life changing.

this month:
-go out on the town in a pair of killer high heels.
-blog/write more. [one down!]
-try one new fruit or vegetable.
-go for a walk at least twice a week.

so that's it. it doesn't seem like much right now. i'm excited for the little accomplishments and will hopefully add some tougher goals as the months go on...

So...

it might be the full pot of coffee
on the completely empty stomach
that's to blame but

i'm feeling a tad bit anxious today
about things...

knowledge.

breathe.

stretch.

shake.

let it go.

Monday...

...belly full of butterflies.

it's fixing to be a 180 up in this place. either plan A or plan B.

the announcement is this week. the job has been taken down.

it's game time.

i just don't know who's playing yet.

This is it...

I finally found you
in my dreams last night.
In passing, I was able
to throw my frustrations
in your face-
About your absence.
Your indifference.
Your lack of sincerity.


You stood still against
the wall eating
cupcakes, pink frosting smeared
along your mouth as I walked
out the door.


This is the only closure
I seem to get.

Counting...

Eight more days.

Tell me there's another beginning

somewhere other than here.

I don't want to go back.

True Story...

...We're surrounded by perfect endings, extra lives and reset buttons.

It's a terrifying realization to come to when it dawns on you:

you have no access to those things in real life.

Life:
You only have one of 'em.
Live the hell out it.

A song got me thinking...:

i don't mean to seem that
i am constantly complaining.
that i'm constantly unhappy.
that i'm constantly stuck.

the truth is, while i can be all
of those things, it is not because
-i live at home.
-i don't have a "real" job.
-i have a mountain of bills that my income can't support.

i have faced that.
it's life.
i can deal with that.
i will always be able to.

what drives me to my moods is simply
that i feel that i am so
blessed
and
thankful
to honestly just to be alive.

sometimes i can't stand to think
that i'm wasting one second
of this gift.

this life.

this opportunity...

the C word...

stack of papers here.
pile of clothes there.
random bits of mess
scattered in between.

clutter.

i can't seem to get away from it.
i feel that i'm constantly
cleaning.
straightening up.
putting away.
and i can never tell when i'm done.

clutter.

the stacks, piles, bits and mess
feel like they're spilling into the rest
of my life
till nothing seems to get accomplished.

clutter. clutter. clutter.

even these words i write...

clutter.

An open letter to whoever lives upstairs [or whoever cares to listen]::

i'm trying.

i know that i am.

but obviously not hard enough.

i'm open to criticism. really, i am.
lay it on me.

because apparently i'm not doing something right.
and i have no idea what i'm doing wrong.

lend a hand?
a finger to point me in the right direction?
please?

because i'm tired of feeling sorry for myself
and questioning my abilities.

i'm tired of staying stuck in the same place.
i'm tired of being patient.

Are You Writing...?

There is a constant need to write.

To create.

About the day. About the thoughts in my head. Stories about people.

It's the people that get me. That stress me.
Those people can do whatever you want them to. They can represent whatever message you want to put across to the reader and so forth.

We're always told: "You don't write the story--the people do."
But the characters can always do a number of things. Anything they want.

Who am I to tell[write] them what to do? Or how to do it?

There is a pressure behind that. Because all I can think about are the countless possiblities. And I find myself stuck. I've always had trouble with the beginning. But it's always the end that gets me. Because nothing ever ends.

Stories are, in essence, about life-the life or instant of a person. And life doesn't have a nice, set-up ending.

unless, of course, the person dies.

And we're always told and always warned not to kill a character at the end of a story as a means of copping out an end.

Is that death the end? And who would I be to give it anyway?

So it goes on...

January is...:

Everything seems disconnected. As if there’s a gap between the here and then. The distance between the heart and the mind. Dissonance between thought and action.

There is a distance. Distance from friends. Distance from career goals. Distance from satisfaction.

I feel that I deserve better. I know that I deserve better. But I don’t know how to BE that better.

The scariest thing about life is that is goes on. It’s January. Lackluster. Glazed over. And full of misappropriated anticipation. I don’t yet have that job. I’m looking. And filing. But I don’t seem to be acting. I thought that this would be easier. But anything worth something is never easy. And I think that I’m realizing that. The trouble for me always lies within the realization and the follow through to participation.

But I seem to be paralyzed.

I have so much respect and awe for my friends who have made it. And not even to their top goals. But have made it past that first step. I think that I hold myself on such a high pedestal of expectation that I’m terrified of falling off that edge. So I stay clear. I stay comfortable.

Everyday I stay in my childhood bedroom is a step away from my adult life. I keep saying that I’m ready to move on. That I’m ready to leave.

But actions speak louder than words.

And I seem to live in silence.

I kid you not...:

...while at work today i heard over the intercom--

"customer needs assistance at the winder blinds.
customer needs assistance at the winder blinds."

i need to get out of this place.

Unfinished Business :: Here's to the New Year!

The idea of New Year’s resolutions completely appeals to me, I’ll admit it. Things you will or won’t do in hopes of becoming the better person you want to be but keep putting off because the holidays are coming up, it’s not a good time, or you would prefer to begin at a better starting off point so that you can really stay on track and keep up.

But the New Year means a new start to most people, including myself. Simply stated--a clean canvas to create new chaos. When I was younger, on December 31^st, I would write myself a letter to the new and improved girl I would be the next go around. I would explain my year, how things were going and what my hopes and plans were for the next year. I would sign it “Love, me” in hopes that I had become the person my new year’s resolutions were supposed to create.

But the truth is, I’m terrible at getting things done on time. I always have been. I suppose that if you were to look up the definition of “procrastinator” you would find this:[insert picture, perhaps?]

[how’s that for cliché?]

In fact, I stopped writing that letter to my new self years ago because I would read back and realize that I hadn’t done anything new and that my resolutions were unaccomplished. Granted, I’m sure one of those years one of my points was to meet the Backstreet Boys [even though in truth, I’m in N*sync girl at heart anyway] and would in any event be highly unlikely, but I stopped because I didn’t want to hold myself up to unrealistic expectations and disappoint myself.

Pessimistic sounding perhaps, but there’s so much negativity surround most teenage girls thanks to hormones and stores like Abercrombie and Fitch, that I didn’t want to disappoint the one person who was always there for me: myself. I didn’t want to hold myself to the New Year Resolutions and the absurd expectations that people place on themselves just because they have a new year to mess up in. Because honestly, I began to realize that all the problems and craziness that you dealt with in the previous year is going follow your happy little hopeful ass right in the New Year and set up shop. The changes have to come from within and you have to be able to look whatever you want to do or change head on and really want to do something about it. I’ve learned my lesson. I want to do something with it.

This year I’m hopeful. Hopelessly so. There are things in my life that I want to accomplish and change this year. I’m writing resolutions. I’m sticking to my guns. And if you know me and I am in fact not doing something that will get my to my goal, kick me in the big ol’ booty I was blessed with. [and I promise I will try hard not to kick back. J]

Here goes no[some]thing::

1. Find a real job.

Simple as that. I don’t want to be a big fish in a small pond. I’m comfortable with the idea of being a small fish in a big pond. But I want to in a pond that I am excited about with other fish friends that I enjoy. And I want to have a job that I know will better my stay in the water. I can’t stay where I’m at. I just can’t.

2. Write more often.

Thoughts. Words. Sentences. Chapters. Books. Writing has also been a release for me but over the years, I put away less and less time for it. For awhile I thought that I had run out of things to say. But I never did. I’ve just never made the time to put the thoughts to paper, which is sad. I hate to think about the thoughts and ideas that were lost because I didn’t take the time to get them out. So they were wasted. I’m tired of wasting away my intelligence and ability. And just the part of me that is the thinking and creating. I don’t deserve it. So I owe it to myself to get back some of that time, stop procrastinating, and get those thoughts and words out. And who knows? Something might become of all those little sentences.

3. A balance under $1000 on my credit card.

I know that fees and got to have items have in the past deterred me from making the best decisions when it came to that little charge card of mine. But I’m tired of owing people money. I’m tired of not having things financially in order. It’s suffocating and I can’t spend my life like that. I can see it in my parents’ faces, the strain that money can cause and I don’t want that for me in the long run. I can’t. So I’m going to start creating the smarter choices today to ensure a better future tomorrow. [hellllloooo PSA!] I know that the school loans I accrued at Elon for my four years will continue to spank my bank account for the rest of my existing days but I can fight the smaller battles before attacking the front line. My credit card balance will be dramatically smaller for the next new year.

4. Travel.

As in, vacation. As simple as going somewhere I’ve never been before. And not just to the town next over that I happen to have never been to. Simple as that.

5. Spend wisely. Save wisely.

I’m tired of being in debt to others. I want to be more proactive about how I spend my money and how much I can keep tucked away. Easy, peazy.

6. Follow through.

Enough said.

I honestly can’t think of anymore definitive resolutions. I am alive. I will change every single day. Hopefully some of those days, some of those changes will help keep me on the path headed towards my resolutions.

Here’s to trying. Here’s to the New Year.

So it begins...

an explanation:

Because my home isn't contained within four walls
or a physical address.

I find home when I close my eyes
and get lost in a song.

I find home
in my mother's icing
my father's singing
a friend's hug.

I find home
within the words in a book
and a smile across the room.

I am undefined.
I am clueless.
I am hopeful.

And it took me awhile to realize that
where I belong
is in my own skin.

And I am constantly searching
not for a place

but for a moment that seems
somewhere like home.