dust



Just because it's different doesn't mean it's over. 

During the summer of 2009, I found myself feeling stupid enough to dream. I mean that in the best way possible. I think it takes a certain measure of stupidity, absurdity, and suspension of disbelief to truly dig your heels into dreaming. It's a sad day when we find ourselves too practical for our whimsies.

That year, I crafted a large list of things I wanted to accomplish in my lifetime, from visiting all the Major League Baseball parks in the US to learning to play guitar. I think being a flight attendant was also on that list, because during the summer of 2009, that seemed like something I wanted to do.

Things have changed, and certainly a lot since then. Every year in your 20's might as well be five for the amount of variance that comes with each. Your 20's are like standing at the edge of the ocean, really. You think just a few waves have come and gone, but when you look down, the passage of time is amplified in the way the sands have covered your feet.

I wrote that list with someone who is so little in my life now, I sent her a message yesterday for the first time in a year. It was a happy birthday message, where in past years, such an occasion would warrant a blog post, a Tweet, a wall post, a text message, and at least one full weekend of shopping, drinking and spending money we technically didn't have.

Things change and sometimes that is stifling.

I tend to give my goals pass or fail grades, and in the face of change, it's easy for me to shelf things and walk away defeated.

This old friend and I used to have a theory that every concert has its own aroma. I've been to "weed and cream cheese" concerts and "beer-battered vagina" concerts and "fried Taco Bell body odor" concerts. This theory is now extended to say that every post-vacation period is distinct. I've come back from trips and felt utterly renovated or completely decimated. Inspired or expired, and everything in between. 

Coming home from Coachella a few weeks ago was interesting. I was exhausted and totally behind on so many of the million projects I'm juggling because YES. I CAN DO EVERYTHING. In a lot of ways, though, a few days in the desert helped me realize that I can still shake off some of that dust. "Attend Coachella" was on that 2009 summer list, as was "Los Angeles" on  my long list of big cities I wanted to visit. I found that without thinking about it, I have accomplished a number of things I had only once dreamed of.

Yes, things change. Goals change. I never want to be a flight attendant and that's okay. It doesn't mean that everything changes and it doesn't mean it's over. A bucket list with a few things crossed off, and a few things marked no longer applicable and a few more things marked, "tried it. Meh." is a successful bucket list if you ask me.

So, even though things don't turn out exactly how you plan, and even though sometimes time gets away from you, and even though you at one point gave up and shelfed something, and even though you cannot remember why you wanted to try being a flight attendant, you can still pick things back up again and give them another go.


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Hello bloggy friends.

I like all of your faces.



exhausted affection

I know my now-four-year-old-niece loves me, and I know that it's partially the result of brain washing. Before she was truly old enough to understand the concept of a "best friend" I coached her to list me as hers. I even stole a song and made it our own: Gailey and Tati, Gailey and Tati, Gailey and Tati! The best of friends for life! 

All that said, and all that prime training time invested, Gailey-bird is not always very affectionate. I can mostly count on a kiss goodbye, but hugs, and cuddles and the like are hard to come by, except of course, for when she's absolutely exhausted.

I was reminded of this last week when we visited Disney World for her fourth birthday. I sat next to her during our car ride from Magic Kingdom back to the rental house. After I buckled her into her car seat, she nestled in with a blanket and gave me a kiss on the cheek, unbidden. I told her I loved her and she reciprocated. A few minutes later she was asleep.

Such is her pattern. Fatigue makes her seek comfort, and it melts my heart that often, she finds that in me.

Dearest of readers, I am completely exhausted, as I so often am when I come back to this blog. To be honest, I went on to list all the different things I'm doing and all the reasons why I'm tired and I even confessed that my Disney bags still aren't packed and I tripped over them when I went to grab my laptop to write this post. It felt too much like complaining though and that isn't my point. My point is that in all my exhaustion and not enough time, I felt like running into some old standby arms for comfort. I remembered how great this space is for that, to nestle in and spill whatever things have been threatening to spill for a while now. To take a few minutes of better spent elsewhere time and convert it into me and what I want to say time.

I wanted to acknowledge that there are things we turn to when we are tired or vulnerable or when we want to feel safe. Here's to those things.

Here's to blogging.
Here's to Doctor Who on Amazon Prime in bed with boxer shorts on.
Here's to Phish Food ice cream straight out of the carton.
Here's to pancakes and pedicures with Penny.
Here's to a new nail polish.
Here's to emails to bloggy best friends that always make me smile.
Here's to a bad movie on Pink's couch.
Here's to dancing around Venus and Fetus's living room.
Here's to a new book on my Kindle.
Here's to the box of Zebra Cakes I took to Orlando that definitely did not come home with me.

Here's to your faces.