That Time I Fell in Love

I fell in love once, and it wasn't with a boy. No, it wasn't a boy that made the butterflies erupt in my stomach or my eyes sparkle with excitement. It wasn't a boy that made the thought of leaving feel like a rock plummeting in the pit of my stomach. No, it wasn't a boy at all.

It was a place. And it was amazing.

It was NYC.

Now, I've been to Paris. I've been to DC. I've been to New Orleans, to Oahu, to the Greek islands, but no place has even come close to NYC.

And that may sound stupid to you. I've been to all of these beautiful and dreamy places, but it's NYC that enchanted me in the end. But it's true. There are no words for NYC. I can try and name a few, but I know I won't even begin to scratch the surface.

Bustling.

Magical.

Thrilling.

Iconic.

Alive.

I know some people say it's too smelly, or too crowded, or too expensive, or overrated, but I didn't get that vibe.

I thought it was almost peaceful--weird as that may be. While I was there, I could finally feel. Nothing was weighing on my mind. I felt alive, and it was the most amazing feeling.

I loved everything about it. The tall buildings, the eccentric people, the shining lights in the middle of the night. The electricity of the city was truly breathtaking.

I've known what it was like to fall in love with places I've never been, but now I know what's it like to fall in love with a place I have been, and I believe it's almost worst. Now, when I'm not in the heart of the city, soaking it all in, and I'm in my small town apartment, the nostalgia hits me like a physical ache. The longing to go back is so fierce I find myself dreaming of a day when I can call myself a local and am no longer a wishful tourist.

One day I will live in this amazing city. You just wait and see.

Write Away

I want to start writing again.

Not blogging. That's different. I like this, though. I like publishing posts and not constantly checking back to see if anyone had commented or liked it. That was stressful, and it wasn't me. But I like randomly sitting down, hashing out some feels, and hitting publish. I know next to no one is reading it, and that's fine. I almost like it that way.

But back to writing. I need to start again. There was a time that I used to be almost decent. I was an English major in college, and took a couple of Creative Writing classes. Those were always my favorite. I'm not a great test taker, so sometimes school was a bit difficult for me. But I could always write.

In recent years, I've gotten away from it. My muse kept drifting off to places where I couldn't quite reach it. Every time I sat down to write, I just kept staring at a blank page. I had the most horrendous case of writer's block imaginable. It's so frustrating not being able to do something you love.

I always wanted a career in writing. The end goal has always been to have a published novel, but over the years I thought I might want to work in publishing. But then that never happened. I ended up in industry after industry, each of which further and further away from everything I thought I ever wanted. I took jobs just to have a job. I had bills to pay. If I wanted to move out, I needed rent money. I had things I wanted to buy and places I wanted to go. Turned out that chasing my dream wasn't very profitable. I've never had a career, just jobs. Most of which, jobs I couldn't stand.

But I've always been a bit of a dreamer. In school, people would say I had my head in the clouds. It wasn't ever meant as as compliment, but I still took it that way. The dreamers of the world are the people that make life so colorful. There's nothing wrong with dreams. Sometimes dreams are the only things that keep people going. So since I've always been a bit of a dreamer, I've never been able to forget writing. It's always in the back of my mind. Little stories come alive in my head, and I feel the urge to get them down so I don't forget them. Usually at really inopportune moments like in the middle of a meeting or at 3AM.

So I've decided I'm going to make the conscious effort to write more because if I stop writing altogether then I'm just giving up on a dream, and then I will have no one to blame but myself for never making it happen. And how bad would that suck to know that you possibly could have made it, but you didn't because you just called it quits.

I'm thinking it would suck pretty badly.

My Slow Paced Journey to Adulthood

Do you remember thinking when you were little that people in their mid 20's were real grown ups?

LOL. Stop it. I can't believe I ever thought that. I honestly thought I would be married by now with kids. I thought 28 was OLD. Gah, so naive.

I mean, I'm sure there are some people in their mid 20's that really have their shit together. They have the good jobs, the stable relationships, the nice homes. They just might have it all. And good for them!

But me? Ehhh...not so much. Let's see, I've been ghosted in my past two relationships, I just started a new job in a new field a month ago because my previous job got eliminated out of the blue (thanks a lot Belk Corporate #hateyourguts), and I'm currently sitting on my couch after watching Game of Thrones for the past 4 hours worrying that I might have contracted some 17th century disease from my roommate since my throat is feeling a little funny.

(Clarification: My roommate went to Cuba last weekend and she came back with a touch of E. Coli.) 

So I guess it's safe to say I don't completely have my shit together. But it could be worse, I guess. I could still be jobless. I could still be with a guy who never once complimented me in all the months we were together. My internet could have been spotty today hindering my binge fest of a night. I could have E. Coli...

Yes, life could definitely be worse.

As of now, as a 26 year old, I feel like I'm maybe just a little over half way to adulthood. Like, I'm not a complete lost cause, but I still don't really understand how health insurance works nor do I separate my laundry into multiple loads. And that's okay, I think. I have time. Really, all I have is time. Everyone talks about how short life is, but it's literally the longest thing you do. So don't stress.

I firmly believe that everyone moves at their own pace, and I've always been a bit of a late bloomer myself. I can't be forced or rushed into making things happen. For instance, when I was younger I didn't feel the need to rush and get my license like everyone else. I just didn't really care about it. My dad taught me how to drive his stick shift car when I was 12 years old down some old country roads. But I didn't have a car, and my parents told me they weren't helping me get a car, so I just wasn't overly concerned with getting my license. However, one day my mom decided for me that I was going to go to the DMV and take my driving test. I hadn't practiced at all, but she told me I was going that day, so I went.

Needless to say, I failed. I failed miserably. As in only made it through half the test before the instructor told me to drive back to the DMV and wait another 2 weeks to try again. They only tell that to the really pathetic drivers, so if I didn't feel sad and miserable before, I definitely did after that. I cried the whole way home. Not only because I felt like a total loser, but because I knew I wasn't ready or prepared. And I hate that feeling.

So moral of the story, do life at your own pace. Just because your old sorority sister is married with 2 kids and the perfect cookie cutter life that she posts all over instagram, doesn't mean that life is for you or that you'll never get that life. It just means you're not ready yet, and that's okay.

And I finally did get my license by the way, and now I parallel park like a damn champ.

Do What You Love. Love What You Do.

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Two weeks ago, I quit my job.

This Monday, I begin my new job.

I'm an excited, nervous, thankful, anxious ball of emotion at the moment. I'm excited for this new opportunity. I'm nervous that I'm going to mess it up. I'm thankful for people who help you out in tough situations and truly want you to succeed. I'm anxious because change is difficult and new jobs bring big changes.

Today was my last day.

I felt strangely bittersweet considering this was a job I couldn't wait to leave. In past posts, I've alluded to the fact that I wasn't happy with a certain situation. That situation being my job. My job made me unhappy. Some days, it even bordered on miserable. The day I burst into tears at my desk was the day I knew I needed to leave.

It was a long road, searching for a new job. And not just any job. I wasn't trying to jump from the frying pan into the fire. I needed to find a job that I would enjoy. Something that would be more of a career and less like a job. It took a while, but with help from a good friend, I was able to find the job.

As last days tend to go, I was presented with a going away card that everyone in the office signed with their farewell wishes. One of my favorite coworkers signed simply "Do what you love. Love what you do." Now, I know this is a popular quote. I've only pinned it half of a dozen times on Pinterest. But I've never really appreciated it until now.

Life really is simple. It's people that make it complicated. I was unhappy because the job I had wasn't for me. I wasn't doing something I enjoyed. I was trying to make something work that was never going to work. I was in a location I didn't love. I wasn't surrounded by the good vibes I crave. I was in a dead end position. The only option I had was to get out and get moving. So that's what I did.

I can add this to the books. Today, I worked my last day at my first real job. Monday, I will begin the first day of my (hopefully) career.

I've kissed a lot of frogs, so where's my prince?

So another girl I went to school with is engaged. I saw it on Facebook yesterday, and another little piece of me died on the inside. Okay, so that's really dramatic and not all that accurate, but it did bum me out a little bit. She's three years younger than me, my brother's age, so in my eyes, she's practically a baby!

Since graduating, I've already been invited to three weddings, all girls that were in my class. I'm happy for them. I really am! But as the wedding invitations stack up, I can't help but wonder when and if it will ever be my turn. Growing up, I vowed to never get married. Boys were icky and relationships were messy. When I was little, I never played house, I hated dolls, and if you bought me a Ken doll or any of the Barbie children, I would throw them in the bottom of my toy chest and never touch them. To be honest, I haven't changed much from that Ken hating child. Boys can still be icky, and relationships can still be messy. I'm still unsure on if I ever want to get married, or if marriage is even cut out for me. Several guys have come and gone, but I've never even had a serious boyfriend! After a particular bad date or another failed relationship, I find myself asking myself "what's wrong with me?"

And the answer is nothing. Nothing is wrong with me.

I'm just single. It's not a death sentence nor does it mean I need to go ahead and subscribe to Modern Cat magazine. I don't even like cats! Being single doesn't define me, like being married doesn't define a person. It's just your relationship status. That's it. I'm not single because I'm too picky. I'm not single because I'm too tall. I'm not single because I live at home with my mom. I'm not single because I wear makeup to the grocery store. I'm not single because I'm not a huge fan of nature. I'm not single because I'm too quiet. I'm not single because I'm a horrible driver. I'm not single because I wouldn't sleep with that guy after the fifth date. I'm not single because I kissed that guy when I was drunk at the bar.

I'm not single for all of the bs reasons people like to throw at me. I'm single because I haven't found my person yet. I haven't found the guy who thinks the sun is shining out of my ass even when I'm having a horrible day. I haven't found the man that will make me want to become a better woman. We haven't found each other yet. It's as simple as that.

And I'm not going to look for him. What is it that people say? You always find things when you stop searching for them? So until that time comes, I'm single, and I'm okay with that.