#whenwemarry we'll have dance parties in the kitchen, just you and me. and it will be sexy.

Nostalgic Love

I'm trying my hand at creativity + photography. I combined things I love with my mom's wedding ring. I used my bedspread and pillows, roses from Valentine's Day (from Dad), a dresser (which was my mom's when she was little), an empty bottle of Mexican lemoncello from Shannen Sauret, a candle (an Anthro gift also from Dad), macbook, a Winking Owl wine cork, a wristwatch from Macy's, Anthropologie gift cards, a yellow end table from Target. I bought the teal mirror from a thrift store in Bloomington, Illinois and painted it. The nostalgia painting is my own work, with the help of my friend Calli Klopfenstein!

Click on the picture to make it larger.

















I used another of my mom's rings for the next few, just for some variety!










P.S. Happy late Valentine's Day to my mom!

You get a prize for being born.

I'm going to talk about my [old] job...again.
Fact: I put my whole heart into that job. It had everything I'd been craving from anyone and not getting.
1. I was needed.
2. I was wanted.
3. I was loved.
4. I worked hard.
5. I was satisfied.
6. I wanted to be there.
7. I was happy.

I put most of my identity into working. And now its gone. I did it to myself. I knew what I was doing. I knew I was leaving.
I knew...

Sigh.

I miss it.

And now I'm about to start all that over again somewhere else that's not new. That's not Portland.

I'm blogging in an attempt to clarify anything I'm feeling and it is failing.

Landlocked: she belongs in Idaho

My future was decided without my input. I didn't even apply for that job, but I got an interview. I daydreamed through the interview, but they wanted me anyways. My mouth told that HR lady that I would work for them without my consent.
What a stupid mouth! You didn't even ask me!
And then I come to find that I am in educational debt up to my scalp and I won't be making enough to pay it off in one year (or even 5 years) AND live on my own.
Debt is a bitch of a handicap.
Its crippling my independence.

So now I am stuck back in my childhood, although I'm supposed to be a grown up.
...Thats what my degree is telling me anyways.

But I don't fit into my childhood anymore. That bed is too small, those shoes are worn out, and my mind is wrapping itself into a tight ball ready to spring into another galaxy.

What is my problem? Eight months ago I was sobbing myself to sleep with homesickness. THIS is what I wanted more than anything in the world. The nostalgia was overpowering my world.
If anyone wanted to listen, I would tell you exactly what happened.
I overcame homesickness. I made my own nostalgia, and I was the only person in it; me and my independence. I spent two years of my sweat, blood, and tears (literally) working toward that never-reaching goal of being just as free as all my peers who don't spend their nights crying for their parents! (which I had spent the greater part of my college years doing)
Those feeling of not needing them were more valuable to me than almost anything.
I'M OKAY ON MY OWN!
I DON'T NEED YOU!
In truth: I'm terrified of losing that.
Thats all.
I want to run away to Portland to make sure that I don't still need my family.
To make my own ties.
Earn my own money.
Have my own house and my own couch.
Make new friends.

Running away is easier. Staying is hard. Working through these ugly feelings is hard. Sticking with old friends when I want to move on. Finding a niche here is the land of my childhood. UGH! This is not what I wanted. I had my freedom right in front of me. Why does is feel like its all gone!

Granted, post-college/pre-job is a time of crisis. But I feel like this crisis has been pending for awhile.
And now I'm too confused to figure it-the-hell-out.

So, here's to a great life ahead of me. (chunking of yogurt cup to computer screen)

I am the only person I cannot leave.

Your gunna catch a cold

from the ice inside your soul.
-christina perri

This is my story, this is my song.

its blank.

Do the thing that scares you most.

I am making decisions based on who I want to be, not on who I am. To some this may seem foolish. But when you are currently a passive party-pooping pushover with dreams of being assertive and adventurous, it makes sense.
I have a dilemma. I have to make a decision. I could live two different lives. I could go where people want me or I could go where I don't know anyone or whats going to happen to me. Hmm. Knowing me, I'd pick the former. Predictable.

What scares me the most is the unknown. I don't consider myself a controllist but I like to have an idea of what's going to happen to me. Otherwise the anxiety controls me.

I guess somewhere in their lives people find that they want to be different. They just don't know how. I know I want to be different. And maybe I know how now.

"Are you always this happy?"

No.
The price for perfection is loneliness.

Even things that are supposed to be all about me are not all about me.