Octobrrr Ends
A new phase of Fall is beginning, and it only took me thirty [-one] days to realize the true potential of this time in my life, these... circumstances. I'm 24, and I have this awesome opportunity to make money (while serving a company that I love) and also save some of it, throw some at my student loans and my credit card debt... maybe add to my ATW travel fund.
This month, it took me four separate concert-outings and about 20 or 30 different musicians - particularly at Life is Beautiful, of course - to truly realize my passion for new, revolutionary music. From John (classic favorite), to Fifth Harmony, to Ellie and Katy and Tegan & Sara, to Poolside and Empire of the Sun and Imagine Dragons and Killers! It was insane.
It took me a super uncomfortable infection, an STD scare and a definite cold/ sinus infection to realize that I absolutely NEED sleep, more water, and less living-on-the-edge in my life in order to stay healthy. In order to maintain. Without these things and some dedication, I begin to flounder. Not only do I get sick and deteriorate, but my emotional and spiritual strength fall apart too. I'm too congested and achey to go to yoga, but I'm dying for some divine centrality - some zen. It has to wait. I'm determined to heal.
It took a weekend getaway and missing a best friend's birthday to become in tune with how friend-deprived I feel living in Newbury Park. Seeing Nela this week and talking to Bayan on the phone helped a LOT, but it's still not enough for me to go a week or more without seeing them, having a late night TV-watching- or cuddle-fest. I can't wait for our reunion house-warming this Saturday.
In addition, though, it also took more than a month of phone-tag and surface-level emails, plus an extremely belated catch-up that lasted us through the first night of our weekend-long reunion in Vegas for me to realize that Chelsea, after nearly 20 amazing years, is still the first and final person I can always go to for the perfect thing to say, to do... to know. I miss her immensely when we FaceTime or reminisce via #tbt Instagram posts, but I realize it even more strongly when we're falling asleep in the same queen-sized bed, or playing house with my toothbrush in the mason jar on her cute bathroom counter. We were meant, designed and fated to be each other's person. Why is it that we weren't destined to live in the same city again for twenty years?!
It took B reaching a huge milestone with her hubby, J experiencing utter tragedy and BJ losing her phone but somehow conveying her undying love and excitement through an email to make me realize (all over again) how much I love and need my core, original best friends; how important it is for me to make time for them, for us. I'm glad that I made the trip I did to San Francisco, but I never followed up like I would have liked to: with thank-you notes and flowers of congrats in lieu of the distance that just can't be crossed quite yet. Our holiday reunions and 2014 getaway are imminent, however. It's time that I dedicate a blog post to only them.
It took a month of bedtime solitude, two trips to LA in the worst of I-405 traffic, and countless shameless emoji-filled texts for me to realize that I'm doing it again. I deserve so much more than a half-hearted stab at loveless, pseudo-sexy crush-love. I should wait for and dedicate my attention to someone who wants to be with me - or, rather, actually shows it. I made the mistake I foresaw by staying over, meeting the puppies... getting attached. FaceTimes and brunch dates and cuddle-mornings also did the opposite of help me detach emotionally, distance myself. After a mild emotional overhaul and receiving some advice from the bffs.... I feel somewhat stronger. I awoke this month without the urge to shoot him that text that I always have at my fingertips, and I didn't even have to resist that strongly throughout the work day. Am I purely and, as always, overthinking his actions (or lack thereof)? Am I simply holding too high of an expectation of this too-much-to-be-nothing, barely-enough-to-be-something, someone? And to think that I could keep it at a comfortable distance.
Finally, it took me precisely this past month (who had money on 30 days again?) to see that it might just be unbearable to live with Mom and Dad again, after having grown accustomed and inclined toward my independence, my own space for artistic and creative license, and my own schedule to do my fucking dishes and screw my toothpaste lid back on. The apartment hunting may commence.
However, as Nela and I have decided, No Fear November commences now, as well. What's meant to be, will be. I will continue to be grateful for the opportunities at hand, thankful in the spirit of the holiday that will end this new month. I will communicate freely, love fearlessly, and live at home comfortably with no shame.
This month, it took me four separate concert-outings and about 20 or 30 different musicians - particularly at Life is Beautiful, of course - to truly realize my passion for new, revolutionary music. From John (classic favorite), to Fifth Harmony, to Ellie and Katy and Tegan & Sara, to Poolside and Empire of the Sun and Imagine Dragons and Killers! It was insane.
It took me a super uncomfortable infection, an STD scare and a definite cold/ sinus infection to realize that I absolutely NEED sleep, more water, and less living-on-the-edge in my life in order to stay healthy. In order to maintain. Without these things and some dedication, I begin to flounder. Not only do I get sick and deteriorate, but my emotional and spiritual strength fall apart too. I'm too congested and achey to go to yoga, but I'm dying for some divine centrality - some zen. It has to wait. I'm determined to heal.
It took a weekend getaway and missing a best friend's birthday to become in tune with how friend-deprived I feel living in Newbury Park. Seeing Nela this week and talking to Bayan on the phone helped a LOT, but it's still not enough for me to go a week or more without seeing them, having a late night TV-watching- or cuddle-fest. I can't wait for our reunion house-warming this Saturday.
In addition, though, it also took more than a month of phone-tag and surface-level emails, plus an extremely belated catch-up that lasted us through the first night of our weekend-long reunion in Vegas for me to realize that Chelsea, after nearly 20 amazing years, is still the first and final person I can always go to for the perfect thing to say, to do... to know. I miss her immensely when we FaceTime or reminisce via #tbt Instagram posts, but I realize it even more strongly when we're falling asleep in the same queen-sized bed, or playing house with my toothbrush in the mason jar on her cute bathroom counter. We were meant, designed and fated to be each other's person. Why is it that we weren't destined to live in the same city again for twenty years?!
It took B reaching a huge milestone with her hubby, J experiencing utter tragedy and BJ losing her phone but somehow conveying her undying love and excitement through an email to make me realize (all over again) how much I love and need my core, original best friends; how important it is for me to make time for them, for us. I'm glad that I made the trip I did to San Francisco, but I never followed up like I would have liked to: with thank-you notes and flowers of congrats in lieu of the distance that just can't be crossed quite yet. Our holiday reunions and 2014 getaway are imminent, however. It's time that I dedicate a blog post to only them.
It took a month of bedtime solitude, two trips to LA in the worst of I-405 traffic, and countless shameless emoji-filled texts for me to realize that I'm doing it again. I deserve so much more than a half-hearted stab at loveless, pseudo-sexy crush-love. I should wait for and dedicate my attention to someone who wants to be with me - or, rather, actually shows it. I made the mistake I foresaw by staying over, meeting the puppies... getting attached. FaceTimes and brunch dates and cuddle-mornings also did the opposite of help me detach emotionally, distance myself. After a mild emotional overhaul and receiving some advice from the bffs.... I feel somewhat stronger. I awoke this month without the urge to shoot him that text that I always have at my fingertips, and I didn't even have to resist that strongly throughout the work day. Am I purely and, as always, overthinking his actions (or lack thereof)? Am I simply holding too high of an expectation of this too-much-to-be-nothing, barely-enough-to-be-something, someone? And to think that I could keep it at a comfortable distance.
Finally, it took me precisely this past month (who had money on 30 days again?) to see that it might just be unbearable to live with Mom and Dad again, after having grown accustomed and inclined toward my independence, my own space for artistic and creative license, and my own schedule to do my fucking dishes and screw my toothpaste lid back on. The apartment hunting may commence.
However, as Nela and I have decided, No Fear November commences now, as well. What's meant to be, will be. I will continue to be grateful for the opportunities at hand, thankful in the spirit of the holiday that will end this new month. I will communicate freely, love fearlessly, and live at home comfortably with no shame.
To No-Fear November.
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