getting lost in the miles

Ok, ok. Yesterday morning I sat down with my coffee fully prepared to disclose my weekend adventures, when I just lost interest and got sucked into work. Work that I really should have been working on weeks ago, but lost interest in that as well.

I’ve been going through a bit of a rut for a while now. Issues in my relationship, feeling not whole as a person, and combating with what feels right to continue with in my life. So, naturally I did what I always do when I feel bogged down and lost, I got in a car (a rental, my car would have fallen apart 20 miles into the adventure) and drove back to New York. I can’t remember the last time I visited with my family, and the day before it was my mom’s birthday. Off I went!

I had almost completely forgotten how recharging it is to me to drive for miles on end. To open the windows, sing along to songs on the radio, and lose myself in the journey.

I planned it so my brother drove up from where he lives as well to surprise my mom. It’s usually my way of doing things, I tell very few people I’m coming into town and surprise my family. It worked. We had dinner and general tomfoolery that comes with getting together. I spent just enough time with them to qualify it as quality time, but not enough to drive me crazy.

Later that night I went to see one of my (used to be) closest friends. I hadn’t seen him in 3 ½ years. We had a huge falling out, which took years to mend. We went out for a few drinks and tried to catch up as best we could. It was heart wrenching, and I’m still working out the feeling of what we had lost that can’t quite be fixed. It’s never easy to realize a close friendship is broken.

On the drive back home I multi-tasked between crying, singing along to 90’s pop songs, and indulging in fast food French fries.

Monday night turned into a long relationship talk with the girlfriend. I’m still reeling from all the emotional exhaustion I’ve felt for the past few days, and mostly just want to keep myself busy so I don’t think about any of it. I'm terrible when it comes to letting emotions sink in. I even ordered checks yesterday. Checks, like from a bank. From a miserable woman that couldn’t stop chewing on her mouth, might I add.

I’m trying to move towards the beginning of August with a new found sense of clarity and realization. Trying to find my footing, and push forward in my goals, not letting anything get in my way while also finding the right decision on matters that may be hard.

In a slightly lighthearted turn of events, I’ve scheduled my next tattoo appointment tomorrow. I’ve already been plunged headfirst into work, and need to really start prioritizing what keeps me sane. Going 8 weeks between having a full day off is not one of those things.

xo 

stream of conscious sunday: my birthday

My birthday is in seven days. It seems like it’s really speeding towards me this year, palm open and ready to slap me across the face. Last year I turned 26, and I wasn’t dreading it so much as I am this year.

It’s not the getting older thing that bothers me. It’s the odd number thing. 27 just doesn’t have a very nice sound to it. 

“Oh yeah, cool, I’m 27.”  Said no one ever.

Pffft.

I’ve never really been one for celebrating my birthday. It was usually just an occasion for someone to make me feel terrible, and sink me into a dark depression for at least a week.

As a kid, I used to hide under the table when everyone would try to sing Happy Birthday to me. Or worse, when everyone’s attention was drawn to me to unwrap all the gifts. What if I got a shitty gift? I’d have to hide the shattering of my little child heart and pretend like I was oh so happy to receive pink fuzzy socks. That hasn’t really changed in adulthood. I hate opening presents in front of people.

I don’t like being the center of attention, I’m more of an avid onlooker that sits back and takes it all in. Forming a good story or silently judging the idiots making fools of themselves.

 

The only time in my life I started to really enjoy my birthday was when I started dating Kh. I’ve had 2 birthdays with her, and each year she makes them pretty great. I get sucked into some kind of birthday obligation that involves hanging out with friends that make me feel miserable the day of my birthday, and Kh always plans a “make up birthday”, the day after. It usually just involves me doing whatever I want and her supporting me with my decision. If I wanted to lie in bed eating ice cream cake and watching Harry Potter all day, she’d be there to change DVDs for me.

True love, that shits for real.

I’m hoping this is the one birthday that afterwards I wake up and feel like an adult on. When I turned 20, I thought 21 would bring a newfound clarity on adulthood and life. When I turned 25, I thought it would be 26. And so on.

Well. Perhaps this is the birthday when others start thinking I’m an adult.

While I know it’s not your age that determines adulthood, I’m still waiting for that “a-ha!” moment. I mean, I’m ok with going on with life always feeling like I’m 21. I’d say 16 but I need to be able to legally drink in my own mind, right? And these lines on my face weren't there when I was 16. 

And my butt wasn't quite as wide as it is now. 

And my boobs weren't nearly this awesome.

 I'm sure I'll have more birthday posts this week. For now, shhh.. it's not this close..

xo

stream of conscious sunday : a little alone time

On Friday I dropped Kh off at the subway station, and watched her disappear from my review mirror. She was on her way to a flight out West. To sunny California (at least it’s got to be sunnier than Massachusetts).

She’s going to be gone until next Friday. Her company is doing some work for TED, and she’s one of the lucky few that get to go. They went last year, and she got to tweet with Bill Nye. Neat, right?

I mean, Bill Nye tweeted her scribing, and then she retweeted his tweet of her scribing and they took a picture together.  Does that all make sense? Twitter confuses me!

When we first started dating, Kh was often traveling for work. Brussels, Germany, London, all over the US. But within the past year or so her promotion and role has changed considerably and she doesn’t travel nearly as much. We lived in different apartments then, and it was easy to get my alone time. Now I have to squeeze it in whenever I can.

The first afternoon without her coming home to dinner I’m all “le sigh”. Then the second day I’m all “ok, I can do this, lets get shit done!” But after that I slowly get lonely and miss the shit out of her. I've been making her facetime with me instead of talking on the phone, this way I have to pay attention and can't jut "uh huh" her to death. 

Ohhh do I love my alone time. 

My top 5 favorite things to do when I’ve got the apartment to myself. And try not to think of anything dirty here people. That’s usually a given.

1: I find any and every excuse to take a million naps on the couch.
2: I stay up until 1am drinking wine until I’m either too tired or to drunk to stay awake any longer.
3: I watch tv shows like The Vampire Diaries, because no ones here to yell at me and tell me it’s crap.
4: I go on a culinary tour of exotic places via my foodler account.
5: At the very last possible moment I rush around doing various chores to make it seem like I didn’t spend the entirety of my time alone doing all of the above. This is my least favorite, it means dishes.

I’m using this next week as a time to recharge myself. I’ve been running low on steam, and letting a lot of every day things slip by me.  I haven’t been in a positive, nor productive mindset in what seems like a very long while, and my mission this week is to kick my own ass back into gear. Whether it be finishing projects that have been sitting on the shelf, do some early Spring cleaning, or finally take that last step needed to be on my own business wise. I’m going to get it done. And I’m not going to be watching any paranormal movies while doing it. Serial killers? No problem. Psychotic disfigured beasts on a rampage? Ok, let’s do it. But ghosts? Scare the shit out of me when I’m alone. 

xo

stream of conscious sunday: insta-crazy

I’ve decided on Sundays I’m going to try and write about something going on in my personal life that’s making me feel guilty, or just something I need to get off my conscious. Or just random bull from my life in general.

Just recently I blocked my very first user on instagram. I’ve had instagram for a long ass time now, and for me to just now be blocking someone; you know it must be serious.

I do contracting work for a local-ish company. With this come a lot of consultations, meet and greets, schmoozing. This past Monday we had a client consult at my house for an overnight boarding request. This is the first time the owner of the company I contract for was at my house. It weirded me out a little, but a lot of things weird me out. Like peanut butter and jelly in the same container, or belly shirts.

What tipped the line of weird-stephanie out? The second she walked in the door she introduced herself to Kh and said she “practically knows her from all my posts on instagram.” Then she tripped up and even said that I was a “post-a-thon-er.”

Eh, what? Kh instantly turned red, and I played it off like “yeah sure, I’M the insta-crazy here.”

Over the next week I couldn’t stop thinking about how she pretty much said she stalked me on instagram. I don’t know her at all, and what I do know of her, I'm not overly fond of. So after getting over my guilt for not wanting her in my business, and getting the "it's ok" talk from my friends, I googled how to block someone on instagram.

I know it seems a little weird, since I have plenty of people I don’t know following me on instagram. But there’s a fine difference between people you don’t know and could potentially get to know, and someone that’s in your life that you completely don’t know, and possibly don’t want to know. There’s also that unwritten rule about never revealing you stalk someone online. My grandma breaks this one often.

“I saw those pictures your friend N posted on facebook, where was she? Who is that guy she’s with? Is that her cat? Did she buy new boots?”

Gram, shhhhh.

Am I crazy for doing this? Maybe. I still feel a little guilty about it, but since then I’ve made my profile private and I’m on lockdown. I know the internet and any public forum is fair game, but blocking features exist so why not use them? 

xo