I Carry Your Heart

It was one year ago today, that I last heard your voice. It was a Sunday morning, and I laid in my bed and called to wish you a happy birthday. You were kind of confused and told me about who was coming over and if I knew what their plans were. It was a weird conversation, and left me a little shaken, so much so that I called my parents and asked them if I should come home. I told PZ the same, the following Wednesday when I interviewed with her in Cincinnati. It was to be the last phone call I would ever have with you. And the last time I heard you say the familiar words we ended every call with. I can still hear your voice now as one year ago you said them last..."I love you, Natalie."

The last time I would ever hear your voice. I would ever hear you tell me you loved me. But not the last that I would say the same to you.

God how I miss you.


Happy birthday, Grandma.

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)

i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet)

i want no world (for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the budand the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

Another One Bites The Dust...At Least For Now

I used to find this blog therapeutic and as an outlet for the screaming voice inside my head. I would write effortlessly, sometimes without fail, and definitely without hesitation. It seems right now it is a struggle to any of those things and that I am completely at a loss for what to say.

I think about what I would write, here, at times when most inconvenient, like sitting on board an airplane without my PC, or in the glimpse of a magazine advertisement about the place I just moved from. I think of crafting words neatly together--how they could fill the page of an otherwise diminishing blog. Words that articulate the way the wind feels on my face, while sitting on top of a hill in a cemetery in West Virginia (ewww) how I wish I could describe to you exactly what that moment was like. How I wish that all the moments I have had you could understand or sit here with me to enjoy. I think of how I would tell you the stories along the way, writing them down here like I once did...but can't seem to do anymore.

I keep thinking about what exactly it is that I would say. What I'd tell you. I just don't seem to be able to tell you anymore.

The words are hard to form now. The sentences more laborious than ever. Ironically, my inspiration at an all time high, the "ups" perhaps even higher. Yet life derails me daily, I cry a lot, too. But I seem to have found myself a little further down this mysterious ride - and I welcome the open road it has me on. I'm too busy to dwell on the words and the paragraphs and the implied accusations or meanings that leave you guessing how relevant they really are - or whom they are relevant for. I am also resentful. I want to allow you into my world, but I wish for once I had an outlet to look back into yours. The one-sidedness of this blog thing has grown tiresome for me. I do not need it now like I once did. I once needed to exhault to you who I am, without reciprocity. Today, I wish you had allowed me to know you better. Not all of you. But some, some who read daily. I need to know the conversation flows both ways. It's pretty easy, really, I'm tired of giving and getting nothing in return.

I've never been a gardener. I don't know how to make things grow, or how to keep beautiful flowers in bloom. I'm lucky if I can just get them to survive. This blog is a garden, and it's bounty has withered. I can't nurture this blog the way it needs to be nurtured, or cultivate it's content. I feel like the more I come to terms with who I am, or what I am, the less I can say, here, which wasn't the case before. My own sense of self-censorship I suppose. My own inability to give as freely of myself as I once did. My own cynicism, my own guardedness, my own pain, my own mistakes, my own heart. It is all censored now. Mostly, because I am still so far from where I need to be.

So I'm not sure how much more I can do this. Even though my desire for a creative outlet remains strong, I'm not sure how much more I can say about myself or how much I can put myself out there, or how much longer you and I can continue the one way conversation. Maybe it's time for me to move on. To try something new. I don't know. I need a break, I need to un-chain myself from the only form of commitment I have been able to keep for the last two and a half years. I may be back. I may not be. I might walk away only to find I need this more than I know. But right now, I don't know.

For right now, all I can say is...


Au-revoir et à bientôt mes amis.

Restating The Obvious

I'm sort of a crappy blogger.

I meant to tell you I was leaving but I went out with her and spent the next day trying to figure out why Jager shots are ever considered a good idea. Especially by me.

I've been to Gulfport to see little Ms. Momma Vee. She is enduring massive swelling of the ankles and feet and might explode if that little man doesn't come out to play soon. My prediction is he will come 2 weeks early. So, now that it's Friday, I'm guessing he'll be here on or around the 25th of October. I have impeccable hunches, you know.

Had the big presentation. Went well. Just pray that my position goes worldwide. I sure could use another trip and beaucoup de frequent flier miles.

I've also been to Dallas, again. Sales meetings are always great times to close the bar down with a couple of your favorite colleagues. Yes Dolly, you are right. There is a story there. What can I say. It's always the ones you least expect to find your irresistable mojo, well. Irresistable.

I'm super tired but looking forward to a full weekend including the birthday party of my sweet Daniel - hard to believe this little guy is TWO! He's pretty freaking amazing. Pretty soon the number of children of my friends and SISTER! are going to significantly surpass the available counterspace in the Hotel Apartment.

While on my continued hiatus, back soon I promise, please laugh with me at what I can only imagine might actually be me and perhaps one of my partners in crime in about 20 years. This is a real photo taken by a dude I work with while he was on vacation. I mean, it just doesn't get any better than this.

I can totally hear it now.

"I don't know Vee. What the hell she was thinking. I would sooo never wear an outfit like that. I mean, white shoes after labor day? Bitches please. Give me the flask, I need a refill."

Delinquent

I was sick. That's the only excuse for leaving you without fresh content for the last week. That and I am lazy. It's weird, because it seems like the days go by so quickly and while I'm busy, I should have a better excuse than the aformentioned as to why I have not updated my blog. The Kentucky Wildcats have moved up to a number 14 spot - and perhaps it's my amazement at that feat alone that has left me bewildered and utterly unable to say much more. Who really would have thought. Perhaps it's the congestion in my head or the fantastic weather that has befallen the Northern Virginia area. Whatever the reason, I'm a slacker.

I spent an hour or so, talking with my sister tonight. We were looking online at names for my 12-week old embryotic niece or nephew. It's still so unbelievable that we can have this conversation, or that there might really be a kid that will come stay with it's REAL aunt in the years to come. As optimistic as I am, maybe my hope was always too jaded to believe I'd really have this splendid blessing. Maybe I never thought I'd really get to be a REAL LIVE AUNT. But it seems, as we near the 12-week milestone, that this kid is hanging on...I'm sure my cousin could say that it's doing just that. (Everyday, I think you are amazing, Shannon).

It doesn't seem possible that it's the end of September. Somehow there has been a whole year that has gone by in the blink of an eye. I remember these weeks last year as if they were only yesterday, can see the sunshine of those long ago months, and remember what the ushering in of October meant to me. How long ago, how it feels like it was just here. How I was just there. Perhaps it's this time of year that I will always hold so tight to. How the days become poetic as the nights get all the longer.

I had a date on Friday. It was horrible, to say the least. You know, people should teach their children how to have manners. Especially men who are lawyers. More on that later.

You really should watch the show Tell Me You Love Me on HBO. This is the show I've been waiting for...

Anyway, I've got to jet. It seems The Bachelor is on and somebody just lost a faux boob and I really can't take it anymore. I am so really old. Especially when the antics of the boobless wonder isn't very funny anymore.

Cheers.

Bittersweet

I lived in the L.V. for thirteen years. During those thirteen years I became a fan of the University of Kentucky Wildcats. It's just something that you can't help but avoid. You bleed blue during basketball season, you watch every game at home or at a local sports bar. You cheer for the players, you curse the coach for not living up to the expectation of the fans...you wear your blue & white to show your support, and you take each win and loss personally. But in the thirteen years of my residence, I never believed that the fledgeling football team could pull out a true and monumental win, like the win NB-C would pray for every year against Tennessee. I never thought they'd beat those thugs from UofL...And until Saturday, they hadn't...in a very, very long time.

Oh sure, being a Lexingtonian means you do fun things like tailgaiting the UK football games. There was nothing I used to like better than spending a Saturday during football season with my closest pals, drinking beer, cooking hot dogs, and setting up shop out of the back of a RAV-4, pick-up truck, or Suburban in the middle of the Blue Lot on game day. It was fun. Sometimes we even went into the game, you know to watch instead of relying on 98.1 The Bull to tell us the play by plays, or hearing that famed "FIRST DOWN KENTUCKY!" over the stadium PA system. We relished the fireworks that would come with the occasional touchdown, and most of the time we savored the success of the day as being ours - even if a "W" didn't come at the end.

I loved this ritual. I cherished those days. That was the good stuff.

We went to Nashville in January for The Music City bowl and that was like the creme de la creme of all supreme UK tailgaiting/fanfare. It was Blue & White heaven. A warm and perfect January day. One of the best and most memorable days of my life, one that was not only savored for the kinship and enjoyment of the day, but one where we got our "W" - and we cheered for our Victory!

And now, the other Wildcats are becoming THE WILDCATS. They are ranked 21 (THEY ARE RANKED!!!!!) for the first time since 1985! NINETEEN EIGHTY FIVE. That was the year my sister was born. That's 22 years. That's before cell phones and quite possibly microwaves. That's when shoulder pads were big and so were flourescent colors. I was eight. Madonna was just making her mark and Michael Jackson wasn't a freak. Needless to say, it was a long time ago...

There hasn't been a time in the last four months that I have wanted to be in LEX more. I miss this. I miss being a part of this and the excitement and buzz that is sure to be prevelant throughout my favorite little city. I miss football and the pomp and circumstance. I miss hearing the cheers from the stadium from the parking lot below, or the Hobbit House not far from it. This is one of those things that makes LEX great. What makes you miss it. What made (makes) it special. Maybe Rich Brooks isn't such an asshat afterall. Maybe he just might know what he's doing. Maybe we will finally get a win against Tennessee this year. Or even have a comeback victory against LSU. Suddenly, it seems anything is possible this season. I only wish I were there to experience it.

Good for you, UK. Good for you.

Oh Yeah

Did I tell you? I saw Stunning in Las Vegas a few weeks back. We ran into each other (planned) after she landed and I was waiting to get on a flight back here. She is still amazing and fantastic and beautiful all these years later. We onky got to see each other for about an hour but it was as if no time had passed at all. Like NINE years hadn't passed at all, to be precise. Here is our self portrait.

I'm off to Dallas today. Not sure how I feel about flying on said 6 year anniversary of the events that changed our lives. Flying through IAD especially. But on with our lives and on with our spirit and I'm sure security is hightened anyway.

It's been a CRAZY week. I feel like I haven't come up for air in days, even though that is not true because Sunday I didn't do anything but laundry and watch Zodiac. Saturday I was too hungover to move until 4:00 and a trip to the outlets with SEDW. So, I guess the weekend I relaxed. But Friday was like a tour stop with Guns N' Roses as I met up with a friend from GC for dinner and unexpected late night debauchery. Let's just say Garth was right when he said "ain't goin' down till the sun comes up." We had so much fun, and I'm not sure what to say about the rest of the night except that 25 year old boys are cute. Especially when they all think you are their mamasita.

Mwhahahahhaaaa.

Don't worry kids, don't worry. There is plenty of love to go around.


Back in a few days! Until then, you should read DOOCE because it's my new favorite. Make sure to check out the pictures of her dog. Fantastic.

This Commercial Disturbs Me

I'm all for subliminal advertising, subtle even, but this defies all that. It's so blantent, that I can't help but shake my head every time it's on. Seriously, I love the fact that someone came up with a commercial that will get you to think so much about it that you might just buy the product. Except, I'm not sure of what might happen to me if I were to test it out. It kind of looks painful. And well, I don't know...just looks like I might want to leave something to the imagination. In that department, at least. What do you think?

Every Man Should Own This Album

Cause this my male friends, is what the ladies want to hear.

Okay, this is what I want to hear...but that's a different story. Run, quick like bunnies. Go buy the album Trouble by Ray LaMontagne. An old friend turned me on to him probably about a year ago, but only now have I begun listening to more of his music. He's soulful, the lyrics are charming--and all in all, this is a perfect blend of yummy singer/songwriter perfection. I'm totally hooked. This is like The N.A.T's perfect music. Whiny, sappy, and mellow. Doesn't get any better.



In case you need the words, here ya go. The song's called Hold You In My Arms.

When you came to me with your bad dreams and your fears

It was easy to see that you'd been crying

Seems like everywhere you turn catastrophe it reigns

But who really profits from the dying

I could hold you in my arms

I could hold you forever

I could hold you in my arms

I could hold you in my arms forever

When you kissed my lips with my mouth so full of questions

It's my worried mind that you quiet

Place your hands on my face

Close my eyes and say

Love is a poor man's food

Don't prophesize

I could hold you in my arms

I could hold you forever

And I could hold you in my arms

I could hold you forever

So now we see how it is

This fist begets the spear

Weapons of war

Symptoms of madness

Don't let your eyes refuse to see

Don't let your ears refuse to hear

Or you ain't never going to shake this sense of sadness

I could hold you in my arms

I could hold on forever

And I could hold you in my arms

I could hold forever

A Little Slice Of Americana

Guess who I went to visit yesterday?

My favorite of favorite of America's past. The only man I regularly courted and loved in college. Perhaps the single greatest contributor to the foundation of our country. My buddy, my long time friend, Thomas Jefferson.

To all who know me, you aren't surprised I made another pilgrimage to Monticello. The only question you may have is "why did it take you so long!?" So long indeed. I think the last time I stood atop that little mountain was probably 1999 with the husband formerly known as mine. Almost eight years ago! It was as magnificent as I remembered it. It stood in grandeur just like the countless visits before. The echos of the past still spoke to me the same, his familiarity took it usual hold.

God, I love this place.

I choraled my buddy Jeff, a native Frenchman who knows only slightly more people in NOVA as I, to accompany me to Charlottesville yesterday. We had a great (no, wonderful) day on our short road trip that meandered the back roads that Garmin suggested. Deep into the brilliant countryside of Virginia, past green fields and rolling hills that seem unspoiled from any progress to move forward in time. Up to the hill of my Mr. Jefferson. We wandered around the gardens, explored this architectural masterpiece, payed respects at his grave, and witnessed the attempt of an unknowing American diss the French, right in front of an unsuspecting Frenchman. Puzzled look on said Frenchman's face. Priceless. On our way back, we drove through the University of Virginia's campus, and found a great rooftop spot by the Amtrak (that one was for you, Vee) station in Charlottesville for a couple of beers and great conversation. It was a spectacular day, one in which a friendship was forged, and conversation a plenty about all sorts of things like philosophies on life, my weird requirements for potential suitors, religion, politics, and Jeff's sly attempts at being a matchmaker for yours truly.

A day that was hands down one of the best and where a new friendship was forged.

Oh, Mr. Jefferson and your Monticello. How you still hold my heart and mind captive!

To The Magnificent Little Monkey Man

Joey Joey!

I can't believe you are already a year old. You are a beautiful little boy who is loved beyond measure. It was one year ago I saw your face for the first time, and how I loved you from the first glance. You are a child who captivates even the casual admirer, not to mention the aunt(s!) who could never spend enough moments with you. You are a beautiful mix of your mother and father, and I only wish that I were there to spoil you and love you like I wish I could. Like I should (but haven't). You darling boy, were in the dreams your mom and I shared as a teenagers, the manifestation of lives yet to come - the hope and the love of all that was to be. Dear Joey, you are an amazing culmination of many dreams and silent prayers. May your life ahead be an amazing journey that is beyond imagination.


Happy Birthday sweetest boy and all my love to you in your many years ahead.

Hints & Expectations

In my reflections of the past few months, I've realized that I have unfair expectations of people. In turn, I think this gets in the way of a lot of the things I try to do to move forward in my life. It's almost as if the optimism in me says - oh give it a few moments more, surely they'll come through - because isn't that what people are supposed to do? Someone will reach out their arms to save me. Someone will understand that I just need them to be there. But rarely do they ever. And what happens is I end up feeling defeated and destroyed. I can't help doing this. I have done it all my life. It drives some people crazy about me, while others think it's a fine quality to have. I personally, sit somewhere in the middle.

One of the things I like best about me is that I am an eternal optimist. I see the glass half full about 90% of the time. It's only when I'm in a deep blue funk that I see the glass as empty, cloudy, or not nearly full enough. This happens to be the case for me over the last few months. Four to be exact. I've been teetering somewhere on the edge of manic depression since the end of April. Masked well, smile ever present. Behind closed doors a total freaking disaster. Waiting for someone to notice that I was doing everything wrong as it pertained to dealing with my life. People don't notice unless you don't function. I'd like to think of myself as a reasonably functioning disaster. She who spirals down farther and farther into her mind and empty bits of her soul, giving pieces of reason for the actions that are no longer reasonable. Afraid to do anything to help myself. Easier to cry because crying means acknowledgement, crying is a sensation you forgot for like, seven years of your life.

It's hard to fool the outside world, but it's even harder to fool yourself.

And finally, after months of solitude and reflection one day the light switch turns on and everything is illuminated. As cliche as it gets, you wake one day and the drops in the glass seem to add up again, instead of being taken away. You begin to have clarity and resolution. No longer wanting to be afraid or holding onto the illusions of the past. It seems the reigns have been placed firmly in the palms of your hands, and you willingly take the lead. So much change has left you tired and in need of the calm only your spirit can bring. Somehow you see what you've come through - like a hazy fog, a distant memory. You know you can be better, and you want to be.

My divorce was final two years ago this week. And it's grasp, his grasp, has loosened but the earthquakes still continue hit. Two years, it has taken me to wake up and to stand firmly on my own two feet. To get it together. To understand who I am and who I want to be. Who I don't want to be. Each chapter tiny aftershocks inside me, each step forward leaving me in a better place. I have made many mistakes, but they were mine to make. I have been to hell and back, you might not realize it, but I have. The difference is that I'm no longer looking back. I'm no longer waiting to be saved and I'm no longer scared. I no longer need to have affection to prove my self worth. I know that happiness is a choice and a choice I wish to make.

I know that the hope that overflows within me is greater than any fear I may ever have. I know that people are inately good, and I choose to believe that. I choose to have high expectations, and I choose to be a positive person. I choose to be happy and forgiving, of myself and of others. To have passion and desire, and an unquenchable thirst for something more. I choose to be thankful and to love longer and more than I should. I choose to believe in possibility and not complacency. I choose this wonderful life I have made for myself and to maybe even become a joiner.

Perhaps these two years, perhaps the last four months have defined me. But in no way have they defeated me.

Restitution is officially paid in full.

Connection

I was scrolling through some old posts today. Funny how they can transport you right back to the time and place their relevance used to hold so tight. As if you can remember the hours in which you wrote their words, the way the day felt as you let them wash over you, the way in which certain juxtapositions formed the greater part of that time and place. So long ago now. Such a far away place and time...

In my query, I stumbled upon a quote I had posted from the movie Shopgirl. Almost instantly, it took me back exactly to the moment I first discovered it. It was a summer evening. A relatively typical Friday night for me. I ordered a pizza and dove into my Netflix. That night, I watched Crash, and Shopgirl. The lighting in the Hobbit House was dim, only the table lamp and it's soft amber glow to light the nooks and crannies of that otherwise dark room. I remember talking to my friend, online. Taking it easy, I lit several candles, turned out the lights, and retreated to my favorite place - the extra-long bathtub in the otherwise extra-small bathroom. I read from Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass, a fourth edition paperback with it's pages yellowed from time. I was drawing pause that evening, and surrounding myself with words and images from months of needing and wanting to be a part of something bigger than myself. Months that lagged on without resolution.

That night, while watching Shopgirl, I was able to find some words that offered me the comfort I needed.

Words that I haven't looked upon in just over a year, or thought of since. Somehow these words that rang true that vivid July night, are even more noteworthy all these days and months later. Their relevance still stings me, though this time for very different reasons. This time the words take hold for all of the moments that have come to pass, and all of the goodbyes that came too soon, quite possibly because of a few stolen moments that led me on the greatest journey. Most definitely because he never meant to hurt me. These words echo a profound and familiar strangeness somewhere deep inside. Strangeness this time because I am no longer standing in only her shoes, but the shoes of both Ray and his Mirabelle, looking back at the world through each others eyes.

Ray: Just so you know. I'm sorry for the way I treated you.
Mirabelle: I know.
Ray: I did love you.
Mirabelle: All right.

As Ray Porter watched his Mirabelle walk away....he feels a loss. How is it possible, he thinks to miss a woman whom he kept at a distance so that when she was gone he would not miss her. Only then did he realize how wanting part of her and not all of her had hurt them both and how he cannot justify his actions except that...well...it was life.


This time it is the prose of a thousand conversations that have come to an end. The knowing, and acceptance of many mistakes. It is the beauty of trying anyway. The helplessness of running scared, and being paralyzed by fear. Of unexpectedly falling in love with someone who knew he could not love me back. Of being loved by someone who I would never love back. It is the split second reactions that cost me everything. A million tiny moments where I feel my world around me growing bigger, and smaller with every breath. It is the sum of the successes and failures. Of all the good and bad.


It really is life.

Saving the world, one company at a time

So.

I just completed the big presentation. Biggest presentation of my relatively young career. It couldn't have gone better if I do say so myself. I'm scheduled to present to the CEO, President, and all the VP's the first week of September. This is a good thing. This is the kind of thing that opens doors and leverages all those years you've spent building credibility. This is the thing that takes you places.

So the three weeks of work, really long hours, and Sunday's spent developing may pay off. Yay. It'd be nice to make a difference and bring around some much needed change. It'd be even nicer if it paid off, for the company, and of course for me at the company. It is definitely the right direction to be headed, and I'm proud of myself for it.

So tonight, I will not work late. I will go to the gym and maybe watch a movie. Just relax and take a deep breath. Good work today.

Good work.

I Seriously Have Issues

Just sitting at my desk (at home, not at work of course), and was going to reapply some lipstick after lunch. What I discovered in my purse was that I might have a problem. I mean, six lipsticks, three glosses, and three liners? If my very limited math skills are correct, that equates to twelve seperate units. I am only one person. There are only seven days in a week. How much lipstick does one need exactly? As you can discern, I am not a brand loyal shopper (for the most part).

Here we have many major brands represented. For example, the trio of lipliners from Revlon (Mocha colorstay), MAC (in Whirl), and the newest by Lorac (number 8). Gotta give a shout out to my lipsticks from L'Oreal in the essential staple shades of Naked Ambition and Fawn Fatale (ooh la la), as well as yesterday's Wearable Rose from Bare Escentuals, the super slick and shiny Raisin Cane by Benefit, a recent add of Lancome's Amande Sucree, and today's special by Nars in Masai. Of course one can never have too many glosses, and my preference for lipgloss is always Lancome. It's the only kind that actually stays on my lips for more than 6.2 seconds. My favorite is Dreamsicle, (only second best to the staple Miracle that was recently purchased and then promptly forgotten in an Anaheim hotel), and we also have Berry Bold. This little sample from Clinique is called Camisole, and it tastes like poo.

I think maybe my makeup fetish may need to get in check. How can a young hipster like myself (fantastic play on words) ever fulfill her dreams of being rich if she keeps spending it on $16 tubes of rose-colored bliss?

I may not be rich but at least my lips look good. And if they don't, I only have myself to blame.

Cheers!

Coincidentally, this is my 200th post, because I'm sure that should be signifcant somehow

I'm going to see The Cure. I think this is significant because they just seem like one of those bands you must see before you get old and saggy (er). I think it's very exciting that Robert Smith looks even creepier all these years later with that pancake makeup, heavy eyeliner, and whacky red lipstick. I gotta give it to him, at least he's keepin' it real. Their album Wish is still one of my favorites, and yes, I confess, I do still listen to it when I'm depressed. Check. And there will never, ever, be a song like Pictures of You. Sigh.

I soooo hope they play it, I mean, it's the essential Cure song. They've got to play it, right???

So September 19, bitches...woot.

Stuck Between Here and There

There is something happening to me right now.

I feel like I'm going through the motions of moving forward and hanging on again. Perhaps my move is finally sinking in, perhaps I find myself challenged in the desire to fully start living my life here. Still clinging onto the memory of a life I used to find a little to familiar. I am in a state of constant movement, of constant longing, and of constant commotion. I think all too often of all that is left behind, and I'm fascinated by all that lies within me. I have this intense yearning and desire to stop feeling so alone. To be held in the arms of the people that I love. To remember how it feels to be surrounded by people who know me for me. Yet I am in awe of the experiences and self reliance I have come to know in only a few weeks, a couple months, out here on my own.

My heart is pulled into a direction five hundred miles South and West of here. To a place where life stands still to me only in memory. Where the cars pass by an address that used to be mine. Where the sun rises and sets, just the same as when I was there. But now, it does so with one less citizen. Days pass by now in that place, unfettered by the soul that exited its gates only a few months back. Undisturbed by my fleeing. Little does it know that the person who never could call it home, only knows now how to call it just that. And the people there...The people who I don't know how to let go of. The old friends, the best friend, the newest friends who were left all too soon. It just perpetuates this need to run back. To wonder how I ever took them for granted, or ever wished for more.

To be 30, and single, and slightly edgier than the people in your new place of employment were quite ready for, in a suburb not exactly what you pictured it to be, is hard. I find myself in a constant battle with my mind. The good vs. the bad. What out weighs the other? Was this the right choice, or was it me, running, again? I struggle with the wondering, with the looming cloud over my head - will anyone here ever know me like they knew me. Will I forever be...

This lonely.

Because I sure am, lonely.

There are days that are better than others. Where strangers who only see me as threatening, ask me questions about who I am...where I think, maybe a breakthrough isn't far off. But it isn't the same. And I wonder if it ever will be.

I think about the friendships I sabotaged on my way East on I-64. My best friend. Whose laughter I hear, and whose tears I see played over and over every day in my mind. She who I loved more than anything else there. She who made it home.

I did so many things in my grand departure that I am not proud of, and my restitution has been masked by illusions of grandeur, by fleeting moments of content, marked by an ever present battle between my heart and my mind.

If there is such a thing as Karma, well, she has come knocking on my door - demanding her payment in full.

And I live in regret.

Regret for not appreciating what I had. For not truly understanding what it meant. Or for seeing the love that surrounded me. I regret not being a better person to the people I should have been better to. For causing my own heartache, and the heartache of those I cared for the most.

And somewhere inside my core, there is something that still enables me to know and believe that where I am is exactly where I am meant to be. To learn and to fall and to be just me, maybe for the first time in my life. Perhaps where I need to be is totally alone so that I may stumble, to recreate and to learn how to stand on my own accord. To be self reliant, and to rediscover. To cry. To remember. To be thankful and draw pause. To not take for granted the friendships I do have, ever again. To make changes in a company - that needs the kind of changes I can bring. To meet people who have never had the pleasure to meet someone like me. To be sad and spontaneous instead of sad and pathetic. To love from afar those who have changed me the most. Appreciating, a life that was better than I ever thought it was.

It's a strange feeling of empowerment and utter helplessness. Of wanting to say, I need you. I'm sad. I'm lonely. And I'm happy. Because, I am happy. I think that's what is the strangest contradiction. I am happy. Yet I'm so sad. I don't know how to balance these emotions or feelings. I don't know how to say things to even my closest friends because I can't describe the intensity these mixed emotions have. So I retreat, as always, inside this empty soul, inside this small apartment, inside another empty bottle.

I retreat, because I don't want you to know how bad it really is. I just want to smile and laugh and hide the tears that come too easily, no matter what their origin. I want to hide behind the good days (that do outweigh the bad) so that you can't tell that I'm having a hard time.

Anyway, I'm stuck somewhere between here and there. Between the good and the bad. The past and the present. The before and the unknown. I'm stuck. Trying to move forward before I spend too much time holding on to something that is no longer there, as I'm so prone to do.

Waiting to learn more.

Wanting just to remember.

I Always Said, She's Hell On Wheels

And it's not even an election year.

Good job, Floss!

Delirium and Randomness

It smells like pee in the Hotel/Apartment. I know that My Girl hasn't done the deed inside, but I'm perplexed as to the smell that I can't seem to get away from in here tonight. Odd.

It's hotter than 69-kinds of love in the No.VA area. I only went outside this morning, at lunch, and to take Abby for a walk and that was more than this old girl could handle. When you are anywhere but the beach, 95-degree winds do not count as blissful. They are just hot air. Much like most of my writing.

I made a trip this weekend and got to see some of my friends. It was a bit of a foolish, and spontaneous one, that left me really, really, freaking tired and unable to, yawn, get back into the groove.

I'm working on a big-for-me presentation at work. It's keeping me hostage at the office until 7:00 p.m. each night and so I really don't feel like blogging when I come home.

Really excited about the new Jane Austen/Anne Hathaway movie. Going to go see it on Sunday. By Myself. Yes, that would be solo movie, deux.

Just got notice that the love of my life, Paolo Nutini, will be in DC on October 4. The dilemma to accept an invitation to make another trip across the pond with a friend+her friend has now just become a harder decision to make due to that unfortunate show date. Couldn't he wait until the 6th? Bollocks.

Had weird dreams about you.

Figured out that my Vee's due date is the one year anniversary of my Grandmother's death. It seems a brilliantly beautiful irony.

Off to more PowerPointing now.

Will be back from neglect, soon.

The Best News I Could Ever Receive

My cousin is pregnant.

I'm going to be an aunt...

Can I just express how freaking amazing Shannon is? To give so much of herself for this opportunity to give my sister the greatest gift of life? To not give up and hold fast her determination...We got the news yesterday, and after an early call stating that the urine test was positive followed by some long hours spent waiting for the blood test to confirm, it seems my little sister may soon be a mom. How wonderful and utterly unbelievable. It hit me in a swell of emotion after my four hour delayed plane took off the ground...A flood of tears came over me. So much love for Rebekah, for Shannon, for all of the miracles that have and will continue to bless them, and us.

So please keep our family (growing! family) in your thoughts and prayers over the next few weeks...On to the 12-week milestone.

This is life's wonderment, these are the miracles we pray for, this is what is rewarded by faith, and hope, and love.

It seems so real. So true that the greatest is always Love.

The Least Complicated

It's been a good week. You know, not the kind of week where everything is perfect. But the kind of week where your routine is changed, maybe for the better, even if only for a brief second. It's been the kind where you are grateful for the split seconds that come to pass because they give you different scenery and surprising bits of change. Where you feel abnormal and yet, happy, all in a matter of minutes. Hours. Days. Not where you gain profound, life changing moments. But where you just have nothing to complain about. Nothing to feel sad about. Or extremely happy about either. Where it's just calm. And the peace comes over you. Where you know, that you are still in a huge state of change. That the change is going to be okay.

So as I sit two stories above the street, I can only reflect on the week that has come and is on its way to being gone:

• A flawless weekend in Northern Virgina, spent with family...spent with people who just know who I am...spent in the glorious sunlight...even if the sunlight was temporarily interrupted by the earth shattering stock revelation...it still rocked out.
• Traveling, again, to the city I loathe, but bearable for the good of earning miles.
• Somewhere where questions of earnestness are pervasive in every spoken sentence.
• Where the finality of the most important of friendships is revealed and concluded in a single word.
• In a place where you've seen a long-haired man, carrying a chihuahua in a bag.
• A found sacred temple for men who like to wear shorts, black socks, and sandals.
• Someplace where Geek gets its definition and women with plastic surgery are the norm.
• Sitting in the LAX airport, surrounded by English blokes and middle aged-American wannabes.
• Where you hear an accent, steal a glance, and a woman is immediately set on fire.
• Days that leave your knees and joints mangled.
• Surrounded by people who may never love you for you, at least not the way you were used to.
• Where an orange polo shirt, a favorite pair of jeans, horrible - yet semi-fashionable shoes, and accessories by Tiffany, Coach, and Gucci seem to just have to work as an ensemble.
• Where you are thrilled and horrified by the thought of a red-eye.
• The same place where 3-glasses of Merlot and McDonald's make a fine dinner.
• A place where you can say "I'm heading back to the East coast," and after the words cross your lips it finally hits you that you fulfilled your goal. To go, instead of wish. To have the documentation to prove it.
• To be carb-laden; bloated; and menstruating.
• The only place in the world where you can see a newscaster, faintly reminiscent of Jewel (with better teeth), delivering the weather forecast in a baby doll dress.
• Somewhere where Lindsay Lohan's recent arrest was not only the biggest headline, but also breaking local news.
• Where concrete and palm trees are supposed to form Paradise.
• In a place where commercials seem to perpetuate your divorced-American family because of how great you look after your Fantastic Sam's haircut.
• Thousands of miles away from the boss who doesn't know your cell phone despite 1) it being the number he called you on in order to hire you; 2) it being attached to all your email signatures; and 3) it being given to him prior to your departure.
• How sweet the feeling of getting a taxi and arriving to your door in only 20-minutes after landing .
• Seeing your best friend (albeit it of the canine variety) after a few days away.
• Arriving to a Gorgeous Giggling Frenchman (GGF) surprisingly back on your shores.
• Being so tired on a Thursday night, but spending an hour and a half talking to someone who is fast becoming a best friend, and feeling somehow revived after hearing her voice.
• Being asked to lunch with said GGF...
• ...and dinner too...
• Feeling a sense of accomplishment two months after arriving, still without regrets.
• Being okay. Financially. Emotionally. Professionally.

Yep, I'm pretty sure that next week it will all go to shit.

For My Slimy

It's been like, eighteen years or something since I first wished you a happy birthday...and although I'm a bit early, I wanted to make sure you knew that I am still thinking about you on your birthday all these years later.

In honor of your thirty first, I wanted to give you a trip down memory lane. Just thing, if you never bought this, then you would have never named your son after my favorite New Kid...
Joey Joey, which, I might add, was said here, first (I believe).



It's Sole, you know? Seafood... God, that video changed my life.

Have a great birthday!!!

Love ya!

Oh Shit

I just found out/confirmed...

I lost in the excess of $30k in stock to follow the yellow brick road to move here.

I just screamed. And cussed @&*@&#@*&#@*&#@*#&@*#&@*# HOLY SHITTTTTTTT.

I could have paid off my debt.

Are you F'in kidding me???

This shit only happens to me.

Eww.

Dear friends,

I'm back to the City of Angels this week. Perhaps this time, I'll see him:



There is always hope.

If you don't have plans and say, you wanted to get away next Tuesday, you could join me for an overnight romp here:



Free hotel!


Anyway, this week has been crazy and the good part of crazy during the week means that I'm getting very busy at work and actually getting to do what it is they hired me to do. I also got to catch up with a good friend from college this week - and the hours passed by effortlessly and all too quickly. My aunt and her family is in town this weekend and I had a great day shopping, lunching, and talking with her yesterday (not to mention I walked away with a new pair of some fantastic Gucci sunglasses, compliments of her). It's been a great weekend spent with family, full of sunshine and incredible weather. I'm also reading Wicked. And LOVING it. It's the first book in a very long time that I haven't wanted to put down.

Yawn.

That makes for some really boring blog material.

Back soon with tales from another tradeshow floor...

Cheers,
N

Beauty In The Breakdown

After the blog rebranding effort, I've been a little more than lax on providing any really significant content (if you couldn't already tell). So my little daily diatribes have had to suffice for the last couple of weeks.

The truth is, I've been spending time on another little project and it's taking a mental toll on me. I've been writing a lot. Just not here. The truth is, there are some things in my life that I'm forcing myself to deal with and writing about them is the only way I seem to be able to do that. I wrote of censorship not too long ago, and it got me thinking about something I had myself been censoring. And well, this something is something I'm choosing not to post here.

Sometimes you just need to scream out loud, and not let everyone hear you. Right now, I really need to let some things go. First, I have to remember. Shed some tears, as I fill in the details and miniscule moments I otherwise forced myself to forget.

What I have learned in this process is that the acknowledgement and the writing has opened up the flood gates in me. It's almost like if I don't get it out of me somehow, my heart and mind will explode...soon. I need to focus on getting it all out of my head. So that I don't forget all that I've learned in the last 9 months about myself. I must do this so I don't let my heart get cold.

Don't get me wrong. Things are pretty darn good for me right now. All in all, I have a profound peace about me since moving. Sure, there is a lot of adjustment and my social life isn't exactly thriving...but at the same time, I never feel like I want for anything to do. I never feel like just staying inside my apartment like I did in LEX. I feel better here. It's nice to live in a place where family is just a couple miles away. Where a best friend isn't much farther. And where everyone isn't cut out of the same white-bread mold. It's nice to have so much ahead and so much opportunity.

But I need to let go. So that I don't wake from another dream in tears. Or spend anymore time living in a moment that has already come to pass. I need to cherish the good and I'm afraid that if I don't take the time to do this, that I will be confined to another week, month, year chained to its memory.

And I don't want to lose sight of all that is good in my life, because there is far more that is good than isn't. So my diatribes and quick updates may remain for a bit. Until I get it all out and not be anymore exposed then my own emotions allow. I hope you will understand.


I just need to scream for a little bit.

Scream.

Into the infinite abyss.

Even Though I Keep On Trying

It's Starting To Be More Than Coincidence

Made a new friend.

He's a...

Seriously, universe. WTF.





(It's just commical anymore. No offense to my other Pisces friends out there...)

Tragic

TGGF is headed back to my favorite city tonight.

Trip has been cut short. By. Three. Weeks.

I'm crying.

He's back in August...sigh.


In other international news, the rumor on the street is that Mercedes headquarters is coming to the new office around the corner from Casa de Natty. You know what that means...tee hee...

The Virginian

After a long 3-ish hours of sitting at the ewwww Virginia Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV), by the Vee and I ... I'm officially a Virginian. I surrendered my Kentucky license for that of the other Commonwealth. Weird. My plates are still to be changed on my car. But maybe I'll get someone to do it this weekend. It's a commitment thing. Bygones.

I Said A Prayer For You Today

I've been so caught up in my life as of late, I haven't relayed the most important happening in my family right now.

My sister is trying to have a baby.

So, in 10-days, she and her husband will get on a plane and go to Los Angeles, alongside our cousin and her husband and try to make one.

You can read her story here.

It's a story about survival. And of defying the odds. A long road travelled in a relatively short time. Of love. Of hope. Of sacrafice. A journey where you will find the ultimate example of unselfishness...

And when you have read her story, may you take away with the lessons I have come to learn from being blessed by her over the last 22-years. She offers a lesson more valuable than many are ever able to learn.

These are only a few of the lessons she has taught me.

Live each day with acceptance, with defiance, with inner beauty, with grace. Smile. Laugh, a lot. Create your own reality. Let go. Trust. Believe. Be happy. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Have hope. And faith. Love wildly, love more than conventional wisdom says you should. Believe. Rebel. Take chances. Don't. Ever. Give. Up. Sometimes, the only thing in life you can control is the way you deal with defeat. Laugh. Let go. Be a good person. Sing like you have an awesome voice. Write. Express yourself. Just be happy. Life is hard. Get over it. Take time to cry. Believe. Laugh. Choose to create your destiny instead of letting your destiny choose you. Be yourself. Be it well. Laugh. Let go. Don't take anything for granted. Choose to be happy. Some lessons you never want to have to learn. Sometimes the truth hurts more than you thought it could. Some decisions have to be made ahead of time. Life is hard. But who said an easy life is any way to really live...


May God continue to bless you my sweet sister. May you know how very much I love you and support you, and how much I look forward to more of your unsuspecting life lessons.

Thank you, Shannon. For being what I couldn't be to her. For doing the one thing I always wished to do for her, but couldn't follow through with. Thank you, for loving her like I love her...

Monday

This day started like any other. Except there was a crisp coolness in the air as I took Abby out this morning. A flawless sky. A warm sun without the threat of the oppressive humidity I like to call "July." A beautiful day, coupled with the best friend who is visiting this week. And the impending sighting of a gorgeous giggling Frenchman...

It all went to shit at about 10:00 a.m..

Today was one of those days that will make me cuss (32 F-bombs), drink (0 but looking up), and smoke (6 by 12:30). A lot. Without going into the dirty details due to possible litigation that might come my way, lets just say, I might not have made a good judgement call on the company I now call mine. There are some who like to throw me under the bus, yet others who just don't respond--well, they respond, just not to me--and some practices long ingrained, that I'm not sure may ever be changed. Even with my persuasive, sparkling and effervescent personality...

Plus I hit a car, kind of backed into it when I was furiously leaving to return to the pit of despair. There was a man across the street who I'm 110% sure saw me do it. But alas, he might take pity on me (since I did get a speeding ticket this weekend), and be a kind soul and not leave a note on the unsuspecting victims dash telling of my wicked hit-and-run-way. It was only a tap. Gentle, kiss on the cheek if you will.

Anyway...


The Gorgeous Giggly Frenchman (to be referred to herein as TGGF) has arrived on these shores once again. He is as dark and beautiful as I remember him to be. And he is as giggly as he was before. But this time he is asking questions. This time I was greeted with a great big smile and a "hiiiiiiiiiiiiii." Oh, and a follow up "It's hard to be sad around you, isn't it?" A lovely, poigniant, question from what one can only surmise as a natural response to that big dorky grin I gave him ((as our eyes locked for those three long seconds I convienently (read: strategically)) walked back to my desk from the printer).

Pshew. That was a long sentance.

Did I mention that he is sitting at the desk to my left?

And he is suggesting cocktails...Tee hee...

And he has no plans other than to sleep this weekend...

I'm sorry, did I hear that correctly?

Reaaaally?


Muauahhahhhaaaa....



I don't know. Might I suggest a companion?



(Mom, ha ha I'm just kidding. I would never suggest that a GGF need a beautiful bedfellow such as your daughter. It's only a joke. Please. You rasied me better than that. I mean...sheesh. Such silly talk. Bygones.)

Meet Me In Montauk

Pardon the Interruption...

Just got the best news of the last few weeks and I am giddy...GIDDY!

The French hottie who giggles at me when I look at him (even in serious conversation) is coming back on Monday. Did you hear me? MONDAY!


AND, the best part?


He's freakin staying the whole month. THE WHOLE MONTH.


Shit.

I nevah' been so 'hoppy in my 'hole liiiife.

Well, that maybe a tad bit of an exaggeration. But STILL!


Yep. I'm a dork.
Don't rub it in.

It's the small things in life that give me the most pleasure. Well, that's not entirely true. Bygones.

Time For A Change

I started blogging in January of 2006. And it's been a really great way for me to get the things that were stuck inside my head, out and available for the world to see. Granted, there are only a few of you out there who read it consistently, a handful more who find me by chance and check back in every so often, and there are those who find me by Googling "Whitman," or "Is this as good as it gets," or my recent favorite - and one I've contemplated blogging about - "Can laughter give enough fuel to live?"

My blog is my journal, my diary...it's a lot of what is going on around me, or what I'm milling over at any given point in time. It's very simply, just who I am. There are stories about things that are very personal to me, like my divorce, like the death of my grandmother, like the people and places and events that my journey has afforded me over the last year and a half. I put myself out there, knowing it can be found, knowing that at any given point in time I could say the wrong thing or hurt the wrong people.

And even though I tend to get a bit windy, there are a lot more stories, experiences, and happenings I choose not to include. There is a lot I don't say, mostly because the information can be misconstrued, misundertood, misinterpreted. What is more, what I don't say is because I am censoring myself from the admission of what I don't want people to hear because it means acknowledging things I'm not quite ready to say outloud. There are certain things a girl must let her heart and mind contain. There are certain friendships that must be protected. There are apologies you can't always make online. There are certain times when you just can't expose all the details of your life.

In recent conversations about this little blog of mine, I've become aware of what these words can do if taken in the wrong context, or if stumbled upon by unprepared eyes. How maybe my words for all of you to read can be blasphemous or hurtful. All I can say is that there are some posts in here, like the ones I've labeled as "Take Another Little Piece of My Heart," whose relevance lasts perpetually. Most of the other is only relevant for the precise time I'm writing in. The difference is, I don't go back and tell you how the story ends up. I don't tell you how the arguements end, where the resolution comes, or when it is I let go.

Just trust that the people I write about are those whose friendships are the most significant to me. And that no matter how the friendship came to be, that they are there for a reason, that they matter to me or they wouldn't weigh on my mind, and that most of the time...most of the time, the resolution comes to pass.

So with that being said, it was time for a change to the look of this blog. A time significant not only because of my recent move, but because to anyone reading this, you should understand these terms, if you choose to keep reading. You should understand that this is how I express myself. This is how I say to you what it is I need. This is what is going on in my life at this time. This is where my heart is spilled out. Happy. Sad. Pissed. Reflecting. Acknowledging. Whatever. This is where you, dear reader, are perpetually a part of me. And I pledge to you, that in this change, the stories that may include you will be censored with the same guard as I sometimes give to myself. At least I will try.

To those of you who read me, thank you for being a part of me and loving me anyway. To those of you who just found me, or to those who understand anything you've read here, may you know our souls likeness is closer than you think...may you know, you've found a friend.

Cheers,
Nat

Natology

(thanks, Kate)

Q. What is your salad dressing of choice?
A. Lemon juice & olive oil.

Q. What is your favorite fast food restaurant?
A. Wendy's.

Q. What is your favorite sit-down restaurant?
A. PF Chang's for widespread appeal. Still looking for that favorite here.

Q. On average, what size tip do you leave at a restaurant?
A. 20% or whatever rounds up most effectively.

Q. What food could you eat every day for two weeks and not get sick off of?
A. Undoubtadly, potatoes.

Q. What are your pizza toppings of choice?
A. Mushroom, bacon, onion, cheese.

Q. What do you like to put on your toast?
A. Butter.

Q. What is your favorite type of gum?
A. Eclipse Spearmint.

TECHNOLOGY

Q. Number of contacts in your cell phone?
A: Guessing, fifty? Probably more.

Q. Number of contacts in your email address book?
A. For those I regularly email, 20.

Q. What is your wallpaper on your computer?
A. Roses.

Q. How many televisions are in your house?
A. That would be deux. And yep, it's only 702 sq. feet.

BIOLOGY

Q. Are you right-handed or left-handed?
A. Right-handed.

Q. What’s your best feature?
A. Eyes. I use them to make cute French boys giggle.

Q. Have you ever had anything removed from your body?
A. A mole the size of a pencil eraser that left a 1 inch scar on my ass. Hawt.

Q. Which of your five senses do you think is keenest?
A. Does intuition count?

Q. When was the last time you had a cavity?
A. 2-years ago.

Q. What is the heaviest item you lifted last?
A. My suitcase.

Q. Have you ever been knocked unconscious?
A. Only when I got hit by lightning.

BULL[CRAP]OLOGY

Q. If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die?
A. Torn on this subject. Think I'll just keep livin' like I was dyin'...

Q. Is love for real?
A. Not sure at present. Maybe love is something different to everyone. Maybe the idea of love is the only thing I am in love with...the only thing I am capable of really loving.

Q. If you could change your name, what would you change it to?
A. Isabella. And I'd want to be called Izzy.

Q. What color do you think looks best on you?
A. Blue. What do I wear? Black.

Q. Have you ever swallowed a non-food item by mistake?
A. Technically, no?

Q. Have you ever saved someone’s life?
A. No.

Q. Has someone ever saved yours?
A. Saved my heart, maybe.

DAREOLOGY

Q. Would you walk naked for a half mile down a public street for $100,000?
A. Heck yes I would.

Q. Would you kiss a member of the same sex for $100?
A. Yes.

Q. Would you allow one of your little fingers to be cut off for $200,000
A. Doubt it. Although, it would pay off my debt.

Q. Would you never blog again for $50,000?
A. Are you kidding, real therapy would cost me a lot more than that! Nobody puts Baby in a corner.

Q. Would you pose naked in a magazine for $250,000?
A. Might be a little awkward for the readers, but a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do.

Q. Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000?
A. Two words: plane ticket. Yes.

Q. Would you, without fear of punishment, take a human life for $1,000,000?
A. Not for a billion.

Q. Would you give up watching television for a year for $25,000?
A. I'd try. Though success is questionable.

DUMBOLOGY

Q: What is in your left pocket
A. No pockets.

Q: Is Napoleon Dynamite actually a good movie?
A: Tops in my book.

Q: Do you have hardwood or carpet in your house?
A: Carpet.

Q: Do you sit or stand in the shower?
A: Is that a trick question? Depends? Only when convienent? WTF?

Q: Could you live with roommates?
A: Not anymore. I don't want anybody's stuff integrated into mine. Still pondering and am open to negotiation should the right roommate be found.

Q: How many pairs of flip flops do you own?
A: 7+/-

Q: Where were you born?
A: NashVegas, TN

Q: Last time you had a run-in with the cops?
A: Not in a long time, thankfully.

Q: What do you want to be when you grow up?
A: Rich. Thin. Surgically altered. A mother. (In no particular order, of course).

Q: Who is number 1 on your top 8
A: NB-C.

LASTOLOGY

Q: Friend you talked to?
A: SEDW.

Q: Last person you called?
A: Vee.

Q: Person you hugged?
A: My aunt.

Q: Person you kissed?
A: I should let your minds wander from what I'm not saying...

Q: Number?
A: 3 or 5. Five is my life path number so it out weighs the 3.

Q: Color?
A: Blue.

Q: Season?
A: Fall.

CURRENTOLOGY

Q: Missing someone?
A: Always.

Q: Mood?
A: Tired. Pensive.

Q: Listening to?
A: Check the right side, check the bottom. One of the two.

Q: Watching?
A. Myself fill out another survey.

Q: Worrying about?
A: Nothing, surprisingly. Absolutely, nothing.

RANDOMOLOGY

Q: First place you went this morning?
A: To the park.

Q: What can you not wait to do?
A: See Vee.

Q: What’s the last movie you saw?
A: Wild Hogs? Terrible airplane movie.

Q: Do you smile often?
A: Yes, indeed.

Q: Are you a friendly person?
A: Most of the time. Till I have to whip the bitch out.

Q: Now that the survey's done what are you going to do?
A: Review a few more contracts.

Let others know a little more about yourself, repost this as your name followed by “ology.”

Censorship

Observations

Hi,

I haven't been very good about keeping up my blog recently, so to those who check regularly, sorry for the lack of fresh content. I don't know if it's that I don't have anything to say, that I don't know how I feel, or if it's just that I'm so darn tired these days that I can't keep up with this thing, too. Maybe it means my life is a taaaaad bit more exciting or that I'm finding more to do. Although, I'm not sure that's true either. Life is better here. Yes. But there is a trade, and some days that trade takes its toll.

I miss my job. I miss that company. I miss my friends from that company, and those other friends from the last 9 years in Lexington. But I don't miss the expansive lonlieness that that city filled me with. I don't miss the way I felt there. All. The. Time. Just kind of empty, just kind of sad.

I'm having a tough time getting used to this new job. It's not that I can't do it. It's that the people are so different, so kind of cold in some ways. They just don't feel like my old friends. And I remind myself that it's new, and it was months before the last felt comfortable...months, a year maybe before I really made my mark. Years before I would feel the ease I left with. It was a good ease. A familiar. Comfortable. Wonderful ease.

There hasn't been a day that has gone by where I have looked back, and this isn't one either. I am so happy that I am here. I am so happy that I did this, for me. And I know that this is where I was meant to be all those years ago. Here. Surrounded by this familiar, comfortable, wonderful ease...

So from where I'm standing, this is what I've observed so far:

• I wish my bank was here. I hate my new one. The online banking is a nightmare and I just wonder how long it will be before I inadvertantly bounce a check because the bill payment is effed up.
• I got a tick in my hair and flipped out on Tuesday. Or, should I say, I found a tick attached to my head and flipped out on Tuesday. Just a dog tick. I think. So now am patiently waiting to get Lyme disease. That is until Vee, in her best-pulled-out-of-her-ass accent said "Well shhhhiiiitttt Naaaaaaaat! I used to get those all the thaaaayyymmee when i was a keeeiiiiddd." We laughed so hard I forgot that I might be dying.
• I now know what it's like to go to the Rolls Royce of tanning beds. It's hella expensive, and the fans will blow you away. So far, after two visits, only my face seems to get color. I think it's a scam. But nonetheless, I'm sold.
• Meeting fabulous bloggers is fun. It's amazing how much you can have in common with people you never met, but who are shockingly not that different from you. Especially when it comes to getting into conundrums. Or however you spell it.
• When you actually have plans, you actually get asked by other people to do things.
• Hanging out on a Saturday night with your aunt and uncle in the hot tub admiring the universe is a damn good way to spend an evening.
• Is it prettier here? Cause I'm pretty sure it's flippin' gorgeous and I'm pretty sure that I love it.
• Travelling through Dulles blows. B-L-O-W-S. Hello extremely busy, completely outdated, could-it-take-any-longer-to-get-my-stuff/ass-back-to-the-main-terminal?
• And I'm not a fan of United. For the simple reason that I finally made mediallion on Delta, and now I'm a nobody on United. Case in point, a 5-hour plane ride from LA to Dulles, middle seat, wedged between two very large people, and behind a 20 year old who kept insisting his seat went back farther than the legs behind it would allow. That is until I asserted my pissiness and said "Um, just so you know, my legs can't get shoved up my ass any farther." He sat his seat up and didn't budge or dare look at me the rest of the way.
• I need to take a French class. Also, I would really like to attend this little soiree but what does one wear to such a fete? Who can I con into going with me? What is colorful cocktail attire entail? If it's not black, I don't really know what to do. Palms get sweaty. Start shaking a little. I do believe the German Embassy event would be fun as well. You know, I have goals and all.
• Target is too close for my own good. If you can walk there (and yep, I have) it probably means you should never carry your purse with you. Because, you know how the Tarjay is. You go in for one thing, come out with 15-sudden must haves.
• Two words: Trader Joe's. Three more: 3 buck chuck.
• I really need some color on my walls. Pronto. The cream is sucking the life out of me. And I'd really appreciate a decorator to come in and spruce up my tired furnishings/decor. For free.
• Large marketing teams should be more efficient then some that will not be named.
• Favorite dog owner's line: "My dog is friendly. Is yours?" Yep. She's friendly alright. That is until your larger then her dog tries to make friends and she squeals like the little bitch she is. Boy that makes me happy, every single time she does it.
• Wait a minute. You mean to tell me I walk an hour a day, on average, eat nothing/don't eat out at lunch, and I'm not losing a pound? An inch? Whhhaaaaaaattt?????
• Is it wrong the 5:00-11:00 lobby guy is kind of cute? Is it wrong that I called Nanny Jo on the beotch across the hall from me because her screaming/out of control children are asses and they need to have the smack down? Is it wrong I no longer find taking an elevator to go outside a problem? And neither does Abby?
• Fabulous hair chick: I got a new do. And I love it. But, you can/will never be relplaced by the 80-pound woman who insisted I pick out a color and cut before doing anything to it.
• Why is it that you are half a world away and the universe still sends me messages and thoughts of you? How can it be that on one plane I see the word "Antwerp" in my reading materials. It jumps out at me almost as much as a stolen glimpse, catching only the word "Montmartre" did in the newspaper of my neighbor on the plane home.
• Did I really move to a place where the closest thing to a bar I have is that in which the majority of the space is a restaurant? Really? And it's true that you can still smoke in them here? Seriously?
• I wonder what's been going on in Lexington? I wonder if those friends miss me as much as I miss them. Cause, boy do I miss them.

Cheers,

N

If Virginia is For Lovers...

Then what on earth could Paris be for?

Cause see, if I would have stayed in LexVegas, I would be in Paris right now...I still can't believe I gave it up.

Oui! C'est ça.

I would have been back in my favorite city of lights...and instead I'm heading to the city of Paris Hilton on Thursday. Oh. My. God. The irony is almost profound.

Wait, don't I work for a French company now?

Scratching head...

I suppose it's better this way. After all, this time it would have been a lonely trip, it would have lacked those big brown eyes I had become so accustomed to getting lost in.

C'est la vie, mes amies. C'est la vie.

PS: Speaking of, my Belgian, this one is for you. Found it a week or so ago at a bar not too far from me...thought you would get a big smile out of this...if it would have been on your birthday, and wouldn't have cost $45 to attend, I probably would have gone. I settled for proudly telling the waiter that I had, in fact, been to Ghent. You would also be glad to know they had Delerium on tap...But, instead I had a pint of Stella...cause well, you know how I love the Stella...

Theme Song

I can't find a prettier boy

Okay,I've been waiting for this song to be on You Tube forever and now it is. Yay. You will have to look at his royal prettiness, my boy Paolo. Mmmmm, pretty. This is my favorite of his songs...

Multitudes

It seems there are places and times in your life where you are naturally more reflective and conscious of just where your place in this world is. Sometimes its because of a million little things that just add up and all of a sudden you realize that where you are isn't because of chance. But because of the footprints you've left for days, weeks, months, years before. Sometimes its because people come and go...love you and leave you. You realize more than just the happenings of the day, but the happenings of a journey, and you see the stepping stones that were laid out before you - instead of looking at them with eyes and a heart that couldn't figure out their path. You acknowledge that there is something bigger than you at work. A force greater than your logic can explain. Maybe you understand the reason. You give it pause, and thanks, and remember what it's like to have faith...

To have hope.

To embrace the beauty of learning and brushing off that jaded being you had become. You stop being cynical and start again, just because you finally can take a deep breath, exhale, and do it all over again. You realize you have just continued learning. You realize you just made it through. Your tears dry and you quietly come to understand that the reasons for them were bigger than you can ever grasp, and you find peace within. You smell fresh Honeysuckle in the air and you savor its sweetness and the way it seems to be omnipresent now. You stop equating that favorite scent with the name of the street on which a faded memory stands, where you once lived. Because it now signals what it means to move forward, to go for what you want instead of settling. That enveloping scent means that fear didn't stop you. It now signals that you are capable of more than you know. That you can. What's more, it means that you did.

Suddenly, you look up at the sky and you realize your tears of the past were from the fear of the doors closing, instead of the joy for those being opened up in front of you...Those doors that seem to beckon your presence to walk through them. As if someone were there showing you the way...

The way to...

A new place of self assuredness. To serenity. To empowerment. To choice. To celebration. Towards the unknown. New places. New adventures. New ways. Endless possibility. To greater self-reliance. Inner peace. Family. Re-discovery. Challenge. To continue the journey. To move forward. On to where you always wanted to be.

On the way to something fantastic...

...That place you've been looking to find for so long... a road on which the time has been short, but where just around the corner you can tell that it is beginning to look like, to feel like...


Home.

Relocated

...And happy.


I've been lacking a computer and therefore am unable to update about all the changes in the last week. But I'm here. And all is well. Start the job on Monday and looks like I'll head to ATL on Thursday and then to LA next Thursday and Friday. I would say the next few weeks are going to be a whirlwind. Thankfully, I went from the Hobbit House 40502 to a Deluxe Apartment in the Skkkyyyyy...so I've had a couple afternoons of R&R at the pool...

My Girl is enjoying a multitude of walks each day, and is settling in better than anticipated. We're in 702 sq. feet of hotel, er, apartment living bliss. Big change, but the right change...at the right time.

Lots to do and lots to take advantage of. I'm sitting here at SEDW's on a Friday afternoon, just cause. Cause I can. Cause I live here now. Finally.

:-)

Yay.

More to come when I have my own PC again, but to you who were wondering...I'm here.

The fantastic is just around the corner now...

Much to tell. More soon.

Fragile: Handle with Care

You know that feeling you get when you are so overwhelmed with anticipation and the desire to just stay a little longer...that feeling that makes your stomach have that slightest tinge of wonderment. I think that is what I feel today. Seven days left here. Seven days which will go by too quickly. Where the sound of laughter from those who I have come to know will begin to fade. Seven days where I will know the shortcuts and troubled traffic patterns. Where the friends made over the past few years will wish me well, will be sad to see me go, and who will cheer for me along the way. Seven days left of shared memories - stories or songs or nicknames mixed with laughter from those they mean something to. Leaving LexVegas is not a goodbye, it's just a see ya later...

I am ready to go. I am ready to embrace my future. I am ready for the challenges ahead. I am ready for the fantastic to happen. I am ready to begin again, to try a little harder, to love a little more, and learn how to continue to move forward instead of looking back. For this moment, I have put the brakes on my tears. There is much ahead, there is much in store. Life is too short to be sad. It's true that I am a trainwreck most of the time and maybe a basket case, too. But I am moving forward. As I have said before: I am still learning.

So my peace has come back to me, and the tears are now three days gone. I've had three people and a little too much on my mind, so these are the things I need to say before this chapter closes.

I miss you, dearest friend. I hope you will one day forgive me. I know life has us on diferent paths right now, but I understand a little better than I did before. Especially over the last couple of weeks. Please know that there isn't a day that I don't miss hearing your voice on the other end of the line or the sound of your laughter. I want to tell you that I'm moving next Friday and I want to ask if you would like to go to lunch before I go. It's not that I'm running from you. It's because I can't say your name without crying. It's because the loss of you has profoundly impacted me. It's because I'm scared that all I'll do is cry and beg for your forgiveness. That's why I haven't called. Because leaving you behind hurts like hell.

My Belgian. Thank you for giving me perspective, and for being a true and good (great) friend. For showing me that I can open up my heart, and why that is so important. You have been the one person who has inspired me to follow my dreams, to create my own path, to live again. I don't know why, I don't know how, but I do know that it is because of you. So this is my pledge to you: I promise that I will be here for you and I'm not going to push you away, you are one of the most important people in my life and you will remain so, always. I will be thinking of you on Monday and wishing I were able to be there for you.

These are the words I need you to hear. These are the words I want you to read and understand that they are for you:

the stillness in your eyes,

convinces me that i,

i don't know a thing,

and i've been around the world,

and i've tasted all the wines,

a half a billion times

came sickened to your shores,

you show me what this life is for

i wanna dance with you,

i see a world where people live and die with grace

the karmic ocean dried up and leave no trace

i wanna dance with you,

i see a sky full of the stars that changed our minds,

and lead us back to a world we would not face

in this altered state...in this altered state

full of so much pain and rage,

you know we got to find a way

to let it go

The two of us have shared a long road these last few months. It's been a good journey, a good ride. And one we've gotten through, together. So, thank you for that. And thank you for giving me the ability to look towards the future, towards possibility, towards life...

And finally, to the one who calls me his best friend. I am over it. I am over being second best to everything and everyone. I am over the commitment phobia for even the slightest decision to be made, like buying a plane ticket, helping me pack, going to lunch, or anything else. You are selfish and I have had enough. You don't deserve my friendship anymore. And not because of what you told me. But because I seem to be so easily replaced by you. Guess what, babe, I am irrefuckingplaceable. You were right, something fantastic is going to happen when I move. It will be me, without you. It will be me focusing on me, not on you. It will be filled with more people who give than who take and that will be a welcome change. You have hurt me immensely this week. Perhaps it's just because you don't want to see me go, but guess what. I am not just a convenience. I have been a loyal and loving friend to you. You know that, but you don't give that in return and so there is no room for you any more. Not on this ride. Not this time. Sorry. Find someone else to mind fuck for awhile. Oh wait, you already have.

...And in seven days I will pull away from the apartment, the friends, the job, the life formerly known as mine. I will be reborn into my thirties and I will begin somewhere new, in a place I used to dream about. It's going to be hard. It's going to be scary. It's going to be me going for it, me growing up, me closing the door and taking a leap of faith. It's exciting and it's surreal. It's me becoming me.

Me.

Hmm. I sure like that sound of that.