Friday, February 27, 2015

When it Hits You Like a Ton of Bricks

So, this happened this morning:
Look at all the orbs you say? I'd be the first to admit there are ghosts
 in that bedroom, but I highly doubt orbs from the spirit world make
you sneeze like you're trying to extract your brain through your nose.

Note to self, when moving leave the curtains on the bedroom windows or you'll wake up at 6am even if you don't have to. I'm sure my neighbors really appreciated me hammering on a cast iron bed at 7:30 this morning. But considering they've been known to vacuum at around the same time I don't feel too guilty.

Last night was the last night I'll ever spend in this apartment. Tonight I'm at Best Guy's as it is his birthday. Tomorrow, the Great Move commences.

I was standing in the bedroom marveling at how small it looked without the bed set up, when I was just hit by how far I have journeyed over the last 20 years. This bed has been with me since my first apartment out of college. It used to be my.... great grandmother's? I think? Someone familial.

This piece of furniture has served me very well indeed. And now it's going to serve as the guest room bed at Best Guy's condo, and again in our new home when we sell the condo later this Spring. Yes, I'll be moving again in just a few months. Best Guy has indicated movers will be involved with that one, and I am fully on board.

I am not the person I was 20 years ago. Back then, I dreamed of something like this happening to me, but never believed it would. My self-esteem back then was so low I never actually thought anyone could find me attractive, let alone love me.

But here I am, my dreams coming true.


Monday, February 23, 2015

Home Stretch

It is Monday. On Saturday I will be moving. Just five days left in my old apartment.

It's crazy, yo.

I don't like spending time there anymore. It's not the sanctuary it once was. Nearly all wall decorations have been taken down. Almost everything else has been categorized into box up, throw out, or give away.

All that's left are those few key items that you absolutely can do nothing with until 45 minutes before you lock that door for the last time. A couple dishes, shampoo, toothpaste, my bed. And also about 20 things I just can't decide what to do with. But that's it.

I still have some logistical things to do like rent the U-Haul for this weekend and call a couple of the utilities, but for the most part I don't live there anymore.

So the fact that I have to spend Tuesday-Friday there is not filling me with joy. But it is those last days everyone who moves has to go through, isn't it? Those final days to say good-bye to all of the memories that live in that space. To cut yourself free from any final attachments you may have.

Shortly after I moved in, before the purchase of Esmerelda the Couch.

This apartment was good to me. It was nice for what it was, and it was exactly what I needed at the time. But I would be lying if I said I was going to miss it. Because I'm not. I spent a great many unhappy days, weeks and months there before I was able to turn myself around. It was the cocoon I needed while I was transitioning into who I am now. As grateful as I am for my time there, I am flying from this place with no regrets and no looking back.

I've already been welcomed with open arms in my new place... open paws too as the critters have officially adopted me into their tribe, as evidenced by the fact that one slept on my head all night long. This new space is bright, open, warm, and inviting. It is not a womb in which to quicken, it is a home in which to grow.

I am excited for this new adventure.

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

It's Ash Wednesday! That Means Things. I Guess.

Today is Ash Wednesday, which means it is the start of Lent. It is supposed honor the 40 days Jesus spent wandering the desert, fasting. If you observe this, the done thing is to give up something you enjoy during this time period as a way of emulating the trials and suffering Jesus went through.

I think?

Honestly, I don't recall an emphasis on this in my particular (Methodist) church growing up. I'm sure people did it but no one in our family made a big deal about it. All I knew from my Catholic friends was during the weeks leading up to Easter they had to eat fish on Fridays instead of meat. Which I understand even less. And let's not get started on the whole fish-isn't-meat deal.

Anyway. I know a lot of people who aren't religious who still like to give things up for Lent. I have even done it myself from time to time. A little self-sacrifice never hurt anyone, and sometimes it is good to prove to yourself that your vices don't run your life. At least for 40 days.

I guess I've gotten to the point where I don't understand how giving up something you find enjoyable for 40 days is in any way a penance if you are going to go right back to the habit at the end of it. Sure, giving up smoking for Lent is a noble deed, but if you know you are going to smoke an entire pack as soon as it hits Easter Sunday, then really what have you proven? Any good you may have done at any point is completely undone the second that lighter hits that cigarette tip.

I guess maybe my issue goes deeper than just giving something up for a little while. Because fasting/cleansing in and of itself isn't a bad thing. Maybe it goes in to the fact where I have issues with religions just assuming we're all sinners up to no good and any little pleasure we get out of the small things just damns us further into Hell.

This year, instead of giving up chocolate, fried foods, television or any other vice that you're going to pick up again on day 41, give up the things that are truly bogging you down. This year, turn off that Inner Negative Monologue for 40 days. See how it feels to go without that for a while and I can guarantee you'll not invite that back into your life.

We sometimes seem to forget that there are so many more things we can invite out of our life that will increase our happiness exponentially. Why give up chocolate if it makes you happy? Give up something that makes you miserable.

Then at the of those 40 days, see how much lighter you feel. Isn't that the point? The feeling of lightness that comes from easing your load? Isn't that what Jesus' message was? Let me have your burden. I will carry it for you.

I somehow doubt Jesus thought chocolate was a burden.

Saturday, February 14, 2015

I don't even know what to call this.

It's just after midnight. My brother's band played at a pretty big-for-Vermont venue this evening, and I couldn't go because of work. About a half hour ago, I got a text from my cousin whom I haven't seen in ages inviting me to the after party. Which I couldn't go to because I have to get up and go to work bright and early in the morning. Actually, this morning.

Right now I am feeling pretty miserable. I am feeling like I used to feel 15 years ago when I had social anxiety/shyness that prevented me from doing the things I wanted to do. I would get invited out all the time, make lame excuses to not go and then bemoan the fact I was home alone.

Here I am, desperately wanting to be out and doing and experiencing with my friends and family, and yet I am tethered by the responsibility of work. I miss so much because of my work schedule.

I am feeling very excluded, sad, anxious, and frankly frustrated and angry. Have I done this to myself? A little replay of those years so long ago? That social anxiety I worked my ass off to be free of? Because I don't want this. I don't want to be always missing out on everything because I have to get up at the ass-crack of dawn on a Saturday or race through a 60 minute commute at 8pm just to catch everyone as the fun is winding down, and I haven't even had dinner yet.

There has got to be a happy medium. Because this? Not making me in the least bit happy.

Wednesday, February 11, 2015


This weekend Best Guy and I are bringing a bunch of things up to my Mom's for storage. It is a bit of a PITA but renting a van for a couple days is way cheaper than five months of a storage unit rental, so there you are.

I have started bringing easily transportable things to Best Guy's condo. Most of my clothes are now here... because that half of the closet isn't truly mine until the red heels are safely tucked away. I've also started bring other little pieces of me here. My cookie jar, a couple of plants, my cast iron frying pan. Little bits and pieces of me that make it easier to feel truly at home.

Last week I was stressing out pretty badly. I felt like I was being pulled in a zillion different directions and I had no place I could go where I could decompress. Now I do. It is funny that just bringing a few things to the condo made such a huge difference. I can see Me here now. This is my place too.

I was remarking to Best Guy last night that when I first starting spending serious time here, I brought little left-overs so I wouldn't have to pack a bag every week - extra pjs and socks, a spare eyeliner and lipstick. Now, the left-overs are in my apartment and the real deal is here in the condo. There's been a major shift. I'm more here than there now, even though most of the boxes are still there.

I still have a great deal left to do, and I have a hard time focusing on it because it stresses me out. But as in all things, it will all get done eventually and it will all be fine. And the best part is, this time I'm not doing it alone.

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Zen and the Art of Moving

The thing about moving is, no matter how much you accomplish, it looks like you haven't done a damned thing until your place is completely empty. I'm not a particularly tidy person, but for the most part everything has its place. It may not always be *in* that place, but it has somewhere to go when I get sick of it.

Nothing has a place when you move. Everything is everywhere and in the wrong place or in a half-packed box. You have to make hard decisions about what still means something to you and is it worth hauling to the next location. Then you come upon those items that still give you a little tug at the heart-strings but are no longer a part of your life. You may put them in the donate box, recycle them or just throw them out. But those little pangs of good-bye add up.

I think part of the reason moving stirs up so many emotions is that, well, moving Things about generally stirs Things up. We become comfortable in the status quo of our surroundings. The outside world is chaos: ever moving, ever changing, ever pushing us to keep up. When we come home though, nothing has changed. Everything is exactly how we left it. All of the things that keep us grounded surround us and comfort us. When we move, we stir the energy. It literally forces us out of our comfort zone. In fact, we really don't have one. What was once comforting is now every bit as chaotic as what we are trying to escape.

I could sit here and talk about the idealistic theories of non-attachment, but let's face it we're all attached. Moving forces us to come face to face with our attachments. Especially the attachments that no longer serve us. It's easy to ignore those things when you can hide them away. But moving brings every little thing to the front and center. Why do I still have this? Where did this come from again? Oh I loved this back when but I haven't used it in four years. Who the hell gave me this?! What the hell is this anyway?

In the end, all you can do is breathe through it, acknowledge the sentiment and sadness when it comes up, and try to keep one small place where you can go to find peace in the chaos.

Hiding under the covers of your bed counts.

This is Two.

Monday the 21st was our 2-year wedding anniversary. We build the Matrimonial Pizza, with my brother officiating and my Chick of Honor wat...