Beyond 30: The Next Chapters

This project is coming to a close. And somehow along the way, among the weeks that I missed, I miscounted. There are actually only three weeks left in the year and unless the calendar miraculously changed, I messed something up there. Oh, well! Perhaps if I'm feeling ambitious enough I'll get around to correcting it. Ted gets it With so little time left in the year, and quite frankly too much on my plate to even begin to think about trying to cram in the remaining goals into the last bit of time I have, I think it goes without saying that I am stopping myself here. Though, it is worth mentioning that I do plan on finishing out the year by blogging. Writing is a habit that I not only enjoy immensely but doing so has allowed me the emotional and mental space to process my life in a healthy way. No one ever tells you how hard it will all really be when you get older. How much friendships and relationships change, the ways in which hardship change you as a person, and the tr

I know, I know. It's been a while. Believe me when I say that there are a host of very good reasons for my prolonged absence. And as it has been the case before, that's just life. Life happens. I'll give you a quick rundown. Week Forty-Four: Friendsgiving. There were drinks and food and merriment ! Week Forty-Five: Illness. A cold kept me down and out for the count. Week Forty-Six: Friend's birthday after which I spent nearly an entire day recovering from a wicked hangover. Sorry not sorry. So, that should basically catch us up! Up until the last several days, my life has been full and packed and busy with all of the love from my friends and family I could possibly endure. But that's not really why you're here. If we're being honest, that's not even why I'm here. Part of this project is telling stories about my life and getting a cancer diagnosis is part of my life. Let's dive in. A couple of weeks ago, I had an optometry appointmen

First and foremost (and this has absolutely nothing to do with this week's topic), I have a TV! A TV! AN ACTUAL TELEVISION. I know it seems silly to be excited over such a thing but when you've been watching shows and movies on a teeny tiny little laptop for nearly a year, having an actual television to enjoy is something to behold. It's the little things in life. To Aunt Sandy, thank you, thank you, thank you. Honestly, I feel like I don't deserve it but I am grateful nonetheless. Let's get to it. Last week, I mentioned in brief that I would be covering the titles I've read so far this year and made an error! For some reason, I thought I had read five books this year instead of only four and it occurred to me why: I'd only completed half of the novel I'd read in February. So, that being said, I still have one more title to add to the list. Suggestions are welcome but considering my time crunch, please keep them around 300 pages or less. The T

It seems that every time I sit down to work on my blog (and additionally, I'm sorry I haven't done so in a couple of weeks. Life happens), there is more to divulge, more to unpack, more to mull over as the days before the end of my project dwindle down unceremoniously, without any measure of ostentatious something..... Let's get into it.  We had to put my family cat down.  Mozart, who was of course named by me, was a soft, sweet, handsome, lazy boy whose daily routines consisted of sleeping, snuggling, bathing in the sun when possible, and impossibly more sleeping. Two weeks ago, on that fateful Sunday, I was sitting at home, reading on the couch and waiting from a call from my landlord. Our dryer had gone out the week before and a new one was due to be delivered sometime that afternoon between noon and six PM. It's been my experience that life is often defined by moments, distinct snippets of time where the smallest details seem to exist in vibrant color and

There is a difference between accepting criticism and being self critical. One requires you to internalize another person's opinions and actively take those ideas into consideration. Is this something I believe to be true? Is this something that I can or should work on? The other requires you to measure progress by whatever self-imposed standards are in place, forcing you into the headspace of self improvement by your own judgements. While both are good to practice, it's arguably true that criticism from others is likely a better threshold by which to compare one's own growth. You are your own worst critic, right? And at least in my experience, our biggest blind spots in life tend to be about ourselves, our own shortcomings. Self criticism also requires a measure of honesty about what you're trying to accomplish. It's not fair to judge yourself based on outrageous guidelines. E.G. " I better be a successful millionaire by the time I'm thirty or my life will

Last weekend, riding on the landslide of feeling stressed out, directionless, and altogether a Picasso-like version of myself, practically unrecognizable in my worry, I took a last minute road trip with my mother and my aunt to my pseudo hometown: St. Joseph, Missouri. Though I was born in the "Show Me" state, I have never considered myself anything other than a Colorado native having moved here when I was three years old. Going back to my "hometown" felt less like going home and more like traveling through the lens of possibility. Who would I have I become if I'd grown up there instead of in Loveland? It was my mother's 35th high school reunion, a foray into reminiscing about her life before losing her mom (my grandma), long before marrying her now husband, a couple of short years prior to marrying too young to my biological father, and looking back on how time and people and life changes you.** Nostalgia has a way of coloring your old life in golden

I am fat. Now, I know what you're going to say "You're not fat, you're beautiful!". Why is it that our social constructs dictate that body weight and beauty are directly tied? How did we reach this point? Earlier this week, my dear friend Julia posted an article about the obesity epidemic in America  and the ways in which a person's weight, most especially women, forces individuals to exist in the world in much different ways than those who are gifted enough to be traditionally beautiful or thin. Fat women don't get to behave in ways that thin women do. We have to be funny and also sincere. We also don't really get to be sexual because sleeping with a fat chick is only something people with fat fetishes do. Activities that are reserved for the thin and beautiful are perceived as gross and unseemly (honestly, when is the last time you saw a very overweight woman in a bikini?). It's likely no secret that I've struggled with my weight my ent

There's really nothing that I want to talk about this week. I can honestly say that nothing of note has occurred; there is nothing happening in my life that is worthy of discussion or thought. Work, come home, play with the dog, eat dinner, sleep, repeat. And though it sounds boring, I kind of live for routine. I'm the type of person who is comfortable in the familiar, comfortable in realistic expectations. I like knowing that everyday when I come home I'll have a sweet dog to greet me and give me sweet kisses. I like knowing that when I get home there's nothing to do but relax, hang out with my roommate, spend some time on the internet, and enjoy my downtime. Monotony is welcome in my home.  Perhaps we could talk about the non-monotonous stuff. Friday I went out on a date. Please, no, don't get excited about it because frankly, there's nothing to be excited over. We met for a couple of drinks at a local bar/restaurant, talked, sat in moderate awkward silence

I know, I know: it's been a while. Weeks, in fact. I would apologize for the lack of communication or the lack of dedication I have to keeping up with this blog but I won't do it. Life happens and I won't apologize for enjoying myself or taking time away or anything in between. But what I will say is thank you for sticking with me and allowing me to have downtime when I needed it. Now, moving on to the important stuff. We have so much to catch up on! But wait! You're wondering "Where is the NSFW juicy bits  (not safe for work for those out of the internet loop) ?". You, my friends,  will have to wait and see. Find the hidden link in this blog and I will take you through a journey... First things first: about a month ago, I got a terrible haircut. Now, this isn't just your run-of-the-mill "Oh, it's not exactly what I asked for but it'll do". No, this was "I think I might cry because this is so far off the mark from what I ask

I've spent probably the last hour navigating between cooking dinner and checking over my list, trying to decide what it is that I wanted to talk about this week. And that's when it hit me: I don't want to talk about myself this week. While I understand the purpose of this project is to work on myself, accomplish some new goals, mark off a self-imposed bucket list so that when I die, whenever that fateful day is forty, fifty, one million years from now (who knows, maybe my work will allow me to live on forever?), I'll feel some measure of accomplishment, so that this last year of my twenties was not wasted on the folly of youth. But my life is not just mine. It doesn't just belong to me. It belongs to all of my friends and family and colleagues. This project belongs just as much to the people I love as it does to me. You've all celebrated, sympathized, understood my doubt and curbed my fears, and turned my sadness into joy. Every step of this year, though there

There are days when I think this blog is filled with nothing but the spurning and whining of what I wish my life could be; lamenting the loss of who I wish I was; hanging my head low at my lack of accomplishments. And then, as I am down trodden and worrisome and plagued by the cycle of self-doubt, I am surrounded and covered in abundant love. If I have not told you lately that I love you, let me say it again, loud and clear: I love you. Whoever you are, wherever you are, whatever part you play in my life, I love you. I've often said that love is not a finite resource, that we, as social creatures, have more love than we know what to do with. It seems to me a pity that for all that effort in loving our friends and family and furry companions, we seem to lack the diligence to use that love on ourselves. It goes without saying that I've not been very kind to myself as of late. Perhaps it is no secret that I was recently rejected, the burden of which I've been carryin

Whenever my mental health takes a dive, it usually manifests itself in physical ways. Not cleaning the house. Forgetting to eat. Neglecting my personal hygiene. Laying in bed all day lurking around the internet as if it will distract me from how miserable I am. That's where I've been lately by which I mean mostly this weekend (okay and a little bit of the week, too). I would say I'm sorry for being such a downer but the reality of this project is that my life is on highlight: the good, the bad, and the stinky (and I mean that both literally and figuratively). Rejection is a certain kind of heavy sadness, the kind that feels like worthlessness and talks like self doubt, the persistence of which spends its days whispering the inevitability of failure in your ear: you are nothing . And this leaves me with a feeling of deep shame: I generally consider myself to be a self-sufficient, independent person who has never relied on other people to supply or ensure my own happiness

Right now, it is almost four in the afternoon, the window is open and it is pouring rain outside. There's a burrito'd dog at my feet, snuggled and cozy, snoring the day away. Despite the chaos as of late, life is good for the moment. I want to spend some time for this weeks blog talking about a few things. One, I'm not sure if I've mentioned my whole housing situation. I honestly can't remember if I've talked about this previously so if I have, sorry! Back in June, after literal months of searching, I found an apartment that was below my budget, close to work, accepted dogs, etc. Come to find out maybe a short week after I moved in that the landlord was in the process of selling the complex to another property management company, who, funny enough, didn't offer us a lease renewal at the end of August. Suffice to say it's been an absolute clusterfuck. There's a possibility my roommate and I may be able to stay here for an increased rate or at le

My life is now and has always been very musical. From a very early age, music was as much part of my every day routine from waking to falling asleep to all the movement in between and it seems to permeate everything that I do. It's often been said, usually but not always in a loving way, that I get carried away with the music in my head and in my feet and in my mouth. Sometimes, I'll catch myself humming or whistling or tapping away without even realizing it, occasionally to the chagrin of the people around me. I'd apologize but I really can't help it. Music is so very much who I am.  Much in the same way that music has a rhythm and a purpose, so does cleaning. I know this sounds like an odd premise but keep up with me here and we'll get to the end; I promise.  Though I'm sure it's different for some people, having a clean home feels like home base for me. It feels like the stillness before an ensemble takes that first unison breath, fingers waiting a

I would start this weeks blog by apologizing for it being so late but frankly I neither have the energy nor the desire to do so. This is my blog, damn it, and I will write during the week when it suits me! So there. Suck it, self-imposed punctuality! And on we go! This last weekend, I had an inordinate amount of things to do. Between work and shindigs with friends and preparing for a family reunion in Nebraska, it seemed that what little free time I had was quickly and unceremoniously taken from me. While it certainly seems to the be the case lately that my life is just full  of things and of obligations, I was just swamped with an endless list of tasks to accomplish. Here's the funny thing about that: by the end of it all, I felt not the slightest bit put out by this mountain of responsibilities. Though I normally have a penchant towards irritation (after all, I am a Slytherin and prone to bouts of pessimism and aggravation), when Saturday evening finally rolled around, after

This week I want to bring it back home to re-focus on my list, two items in particular: putting four digits in my checking and savings accounts and paying down 10% of my total debt.  I also would like to preface this week's blog with an admission: I am bad with money. It seems to be that throughout my life, I have struggled with money. Part of this is due to my circumstances as most people never leave the financial bracket that they were born into and part of this is the "la la la I can't hear you" method of dealing with debt. This lack of discipline (and really lack of understanding on how to budget) has gotten me into trouble more times than I can reasonably count. Thankfully, I been fortunate enough in my life to have people in my corner who were willing to bail me out financially when I needed it.  But here's the thing: I don't want that to be my life. Who would, quite honestly? While there are some schools of thought that say "Do what you want

Friends, strangers, confidantes, there's a lot to catch up on. As you may or may not know, between my Memorial Day Weekend trip to Kansas to visit family and moving into my new apartment the following weekend, it is no small understatement to say that life has been incredibly busy. Busy to the tune of sometimes I feel like I can't breathe let alone get anything done worthwhile and I think I might collapse oh my goodness.  Let's start with the most interesting stuff. After months of searching, convinced that an apartment within my budget that allowed dogs in Fort Collins wasn't possible to find, I did finally find a place. While it's true that it needed a lot of elbow grease (three hours worth of deep cleaning can attest to that thanks to the valiant efforts of my mom and myself), slowly but surely, it's becoming my own. I've managed to unpack a good majority of my things and keep looking for more ways to decorate, nest, arrange. It helps that I managed

"Love, love is a verb. Love is a doing word" Firstly and most importantly, it's worth mentioning that I'm sorry this is so late. It is not an understatement to say that this week has been incredibly, incredibly busy. Between preparing for the trip, work being all manner of chaos, and preparing for my move next weekend (finally!), this mini vacation could not have come sooner. That being said, I am currently sitting in a hotel room with Isabelle curled up at my feet, a cold air conditioner protecting me from the unbearably hot Kansas humidity, and watching a movie in the background with a mere three hours drive left to my destination. Life is good. Let's talk about love.  As mentioned in the above named lyric, from the brilliant song (which you may recognize as the theme song from "House"), "Teardrop" by Massive Attack , love is something that you do. It's something that you give to someone else--whether that's time, affection