"You know that point in your life when you realize the house you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of a sudden even though you have some place where you put your shit, that idea of home is gone. ... You'll see one day when you move out it just sort of happens one day and it's gone. You feel like you can never get it back. It's like you feel homesick for a place that doesn't even exist. Maybe it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't ever have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I don't know, but I miss the idea of it, you know. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people that miss the same imaginary place." Garden State
Most every one of my close friends knows my love for the movie Garden State and even more specifically the quote above. I've used it countless times in my writing and every time it means something different to me. I guess because I'm continually growing and changing my ideas about people and the world.
The other day I stood at my host stand staring out the window, waving false hellos with a fake smile to accompany my friendly greeting. I quickly realized that all day the only person I'd thought of was myself. How pathetic? If I had thought about any other person for that long I would have been ashamed of myself and for the most part, I am. So many of my wonderful friends and family have so much going on in their lives and all I can think about is "how hard I have it". I knew something had been bothering me but I didn't stop to think on what it might be until that moment. Recently it has come to my attention that most everyone around me is moving away and getting their life together while I feel stuck in Murfreesboro, TN. I feel like a stoop kid. (Yes, I just referenced the Hey Arnold Stoop Kid episode). I know eventually I'll move on but right now it's hard to see all these pieces of my heart move so far from me. I had created this big idea that if I just moved to a place I'd always wanted to live that I would be happy. Thank God I realized what a mistake that could be.
I've been so worried about time lines and saving money to leave by a certain time because I fear that this current time is defining the rest of my life and maybe it is but I can't help but think of all the solitary years in my life that didn't completely define me. Then, I had to take a look at my parents. Two people I admire very much. There are years upon years of their lives that I know absolutely nothing about. I'm sure those years shaped who they are but I can't imagine that one or two years defined their character. I know it seems like a simple concept but it took me a while to take these things into consideration because the world moves so fast and let's be honest; I don't.
I've always thought of Tennessee as my home and I always will but something inside of me is dying to get out of the place that has always been a comfort for me. There is a need to get away and create my own idea of "home". As I thought this a favorite song of one of my favorite local bands came to mind: "Home is not places; it is love." Alas, a revelation!!! I've been so lost because everything I consider home, for the most part (I still have some little pieces here ;) ) is no longer close at hand. That's life. No one said life would be easy but no one warned me that every idea I had of home would spread far and wide across the world. For now, my home rests in little pieces everywhere: Tennessee, Georgia, Florida, Africa, Louisiana, New York, Vietnam, Colorado, etc.
Enjoy the song :http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tMjXZlUOWSE
And the lyrics:
http://www.sweetslyrics.com/870846.The%20Apache%20Relay%20-%20Home%20Is%20Not%20Places.html
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
"I really suck at this whole life thing but you're my friend anyway."
"It is a fair, even-handed, noble adjustment of things, that while there is infection in disease and sorrow, there is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good-humour." A Christmas Carol
Each day I concentrate on something that I am grateful to have in my life. Today it's friends. Cliche, I know but I'm grateful for them because of the laughter they bring to my life. It'd be impossible for me to write about all of my friends in this one blog so I have to write about the girl who has stuck through thick and thin with me. Around the year 1997 I stumbled into Pulaski, TN with overalls in every fabric imaginable, brushed out curls and no friends. I asked the girl in the stretchy pants at the lunch table to be my best friend and the rest is history. I've no recollection of meeting my best friend but she's relayed the story to me enough that I believe it whether it be true or not. She's been there through everything. We had our first fight over Santa Claus. She told me if I didn't believe in Santa that I didn't believe in God. In the fifth grade we kept sprained ankles in an attempt to wear heels like the spice girls, ate an entire pan of fudge in one night and painted her dog's nails. She heard me swear for the first time when I forgot to edit a Spice Girls song that I had been singing. I made her promise she'd never tell anyone that I had done that or that I had a crush on Lance Bass. I should have kept the latter to myself; that's still embarrassing. We had our fights in high school over boys that now seem trivial and hilarious but felt real at the time. We spent an entire summer riding around listening to "The Essential Michael Jackson" and eating Sonic. I crawled onto Kayla's porch the first time I ever had a hangover and waited for her to get home. We spent the entire day watching workout videos and eating junk food but never actually doing the workout. She helped me write a letter for a contest to win Jonas Brothers and prodded me to use the cancer card in hopes of sympathetic readers. It didn't work but she still went to the concert with me. For now, Kayla lives in Florida and I absolutely hate that she is that far away but am proud of her for getting out. She makes me laugh more than most anyone I know; even if it is unintentional. Years later and we've upped the ante to two casserole pans in a night between us. I'm not ashamed. The point I'm trying to get across is that I realize how blessed I've been to have a friend like Kayla. Not many people keep friends from elementary school. I'm blessed to have all of my friends.
I realize that somehow I've collected the most hilarious group of friends. I'm embarrassed to say that some have even made me pee myself with laughter. I love waking up to a post on my Facebook or Twitter from my friends because I know it's going to cause me to giggle. Everyone knows my love of people falling and luckily, right along with my hilarious friends comes their clumsiness. My closest friends embrace who they are and I can't express to them how much that means to me. Whether it's Margaret falling off a fence, Nikki bouncing off a rock, Kaitlin running from a tornado with me, Tracy falling down in a cave, Lauren giving us a Friday present by riding down the stairs, or any of the other countless clumsy moments my friends have had I'm so glad they're all there. If I didn't mention you it wasn't because I forgot you or don't love you. Maybe you're just a bit more sure footed than the rest :) Anyways, please feel free to remind me of any hilarious moments.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2FPDKwtVns
Each day I concentrate on something that I am grateful to have in my life. Today it's friends. Cliche, I know but I'm grateful for them because of the laughter they bring to my life. It'd be impossible for me to write about all of my friends in this one blog so I have to write about the girl who has stuck through thick and thin with me. Around the year 1997 I stumbled into Pulaski, TN with overalls in every fabric imaginable, brushed out curls and no friends. I asked the girl in the stretchy pants at the lunch table to be my best friend and the rest is history. I've no recollection of meeting my best friend but she's relayed the story to me enough that I believe it whether it be true or not. She's been there through everything. We had our first fight over Santa Claus. She told me if I didn't believe in Santa that I didn't believe in God. In the fifth grade we kept sprained ankles in an attempt to wear heels like the spice girls, ate an entire pan of fudge in one night and painted her dog's nails. She heard me swear for the first time when I forgot to edit a Spice Girls song that I had been singing. I made her promise she'd never tell anyone that I had done that or that I had a crush on Lance Bass. I should have kept the latter to myself; that's still embarrassing. We had our fights in high school over boys that now seem trivial and hilarious but felt real at the time. We spent an entire summer riding around listening to "The Essential Michael Jackson" and eating Sonic. I crawled onto Kayla's porch the first time I ever had a hangover and waited for her to get home. We spent the entire day watching workout videos and eating junk food but never actually doing the workout. She helped me write a letter for a contest to win Jonas Brothers and prodded me to use the cancer card in hopes of sympathetic readers. It didn't work but she still went to the concert with me. For now, Kayla lives in Florida and I absolutely hate that she is that far away but am proud of her for getting out. She makes me laugh more than most anyone I know; even if it is unintentional. Years later and we've upped the ante to two casserole pans in a night between us. I'm not ashamed. The point I'm trying to get across is that I realize how blessed I've been to have a friend like Kayla. Not many people keep friends from elementary school. I'm blessed to have all of my friends.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2FPDKwtVns
Monday, January 16, 2012
A Break
"[S]ome birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up DOES rejoice. But still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone." ~The Shawshank Redemption
The other night I felt something in me break. The details of what brought about this break are not important. What is important is how it felt. I quickly attempted to gather myself but it was like chasing marbles on a tile floor. Some get away, others roll into something indistinguishable but you gather the ones you can and realize the once beautiful package will never be whole again. So, for once; I let go. I indulged and sobbed. I haven't let myself cry like that since I looked in the mirror and realized that chemotherapy had robbed me of all of my hair. Soon I began to cry for more than the original cause. I've felt trapped for the past year and what hurt the most is the realization that I'm the only one that has the power to change that. I woke the next morning with puffy eyes, red nose, somber expression and a new beginning. Unfortunately, I started that beginning with an attempt to de-puff my eyes. Note to self: toothpaste reduces swelling at the high cost of a squinty, watery, burning eye. I couldn't help but laugh at the girl in the mirror attempting to hide the traces of her emotions. I've always convinced myself that real, strong women don't show emotion but realized that every now and then I can allow myself to be human. That very day I started doing everything I'd said I had been wanting to do. I got dressed up, put in applications, treated myself to a healthy lunch, exercised, talked to an old friend and wrote. I never understand my reasoning behind putting down my writing because for someone who tends to hold on to their problems; it's a great outlet. The only logic I can find behind it is that when I write, I let go and sometimes realize things I didn't know I felt and those things aren't always pretty. Life isn't always pretty. When I stress I indulge. I have a hard time eating, I workout constantly, paint my nails almost every day ...and spend money. Essentially, stress: makes my body look good; makes my bank account look bad. However, I'm changing that as well. Saving money has never been my strong suit, those genes went to my brother along with every single one of the athletic, hand/eye coordination ones. I'm still learning and that's okay. I never want to stop learning, growing and improving. Life isn't easy but no one ever said it was. Speaking of life being easy, sometimes you need to just listen to yourself and take your own advice. The other day a good friend told me she thought maybe she wasn't meant to be happy. She's one of the most strong, beautiful people I know and it broke my heart to hear her say that. She's worked hard at her happiness and deserves it more than most anyone I know. I told her that no one wanted to read a book/watch a movie about a girl who got everything she wanted. Those stories aren't interesting. Immediately she recommended "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: How I Learned to Live a Better Story". The book, thus far, is wonderful. I continued that day with one de-puffed eye, friends by my side, a good porter and my journal. So, right now, I'm barely treading water but that's fine because I can still breathe. This year I'm going to attempt to live the story I've always wanted to read.
The other night I felt something in me break. The details of what brought about this break are not important. What is important is how it felt. I quickly attempted to gather myself but it was like chasing marbles on a tile floor. Some get away, others roll into something indistinguishable but you gather the ones you can and realize the once beautiful package will never be whole again. So, for once; I let go. I indulged and sobbed. I haven't let myself cry like that since I looked in the mirror and realized that chemotherapy had robbed me of all of my hair. Soon I began to cry for more than the original cause. I've felt trapped for the past year and what hurt the most is the realization that I'm the only one that has the power to change that. I woke the next morning with puffy eyes, red nose, somber expression and a new beginning. Unfortunately, I started that beginning with an attempt to de-puff my eyes. Note to self: toothpaste reduces swelling at the high cost of a squinty, watery, burning eye. I couldn't help but laugh at the girl in the mirror attempting to hide the traces of her emotions. I've always convinced myself that real, strong women don't show emotion but realized that every now and then I can allow myself to be human. That very day I started doing everything I'd said I had been wanting to do. I got dressed up, put in applications, treated myself to a healthy lunch, exercised, talked to an old friend and wrote. I never understand my reasoning behind putting down my writing because for someone who tends to hold on to their problems; it's a great outlet. The only logic I can find behind it is that when I write, I let go and sometimes realize things I didn't know I felt and those things aren't always pretty. Life isn't always pretty. When I stress I indulge. I have a hard time eating, I workout constantly, paint my nails almost every day ...and spend money. Essentially, stress: makes my body look good; makes my bank account look bad. However, I'm changing that as well. Saving money has never been my strong suit, those genes went to my brother along with every single one of the athletic, hand/eye coordination ones. I'm still learning and that's okay. I never want to stop learning, growing and improving. Life isn't easy but no one ever said it was. Speaking of life being easy, sometimes you need to just listen to yourself and take your own advice. The other day a good friend told me she thought maybe she wasn't meant to be happy. She's one of the most strong, beautiful people I know and it broke my heart to hear her say that. She's worked hard at her happiness and deserves it more than most anyone I know. I told her that no one wanted to read a book/watch a movie about a girl who got everything she wanted. Those stories aren't interesting. Immediately she recommended "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: How I Learned to Live a Better Story". The book, thus far, is wonderful. I continued that day with one de-puffed eye, friends by my side, a good porter and my journal. So, right now, I'm barely treading water but that's fine because I can still breathe. This year I'm going to attempt to live the story I've always wanted to read.
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