Is this how 25 is going to go?

I am a believer in the Golden Year. When you turn the age of your birth date. My golden year started Sunday, the 25th. I have been looking forward to this year probably since I was 22. I want a good year, and the last six months I have made changes that will help 25 be great.

So far, it's fucking weird.

On Saturday, I went out to celebrate my birthday. I had also snowshoed up a mountain that day, so I didn't have much interest in drinking. I just wanted to dance and have fun. My friend E (who had joined on the snowshoeing adventure) and I went to get some food then drinks. All was well, and we went to a local bar that is very gay/lesbian friendly because they have dancing and one of her international students/friends was there. We were having a good time, but the DJ was playing the oddest mix of music. He'd focus primarily on the 70s and 80s, then would play half of a current song to get the crowd all jazzed just to drop them back down.

While dancing, I noticed a guy wearing a sparkly, red party hat. I told E I wanted the hat, mostly kidding. She said "I'll get you the hat" and walked up to him. It was his birthday as well and he told her I could wear the hat if I took a picture with him. I said yes. I walked over and his friend wished me a happy birthday, and I said thanks, and this guy looked at me and was just so genuinely happy and nice, He said, "you can have it, we just have to take a picture!!" Then he was trying to unlock his phone, and had a Lana Del Ray background, said something about how I look like her (I really don't, but that's okay) and we took a snapchat and he posted it to his story. I gave him the hat back and told him I just wanted to wear it for a second and he kissed me on the cheek and said "It's your night, have a good birthday!" That was that.

After midnight hit, E and I left since we were exhausted. We stopped by the clock tower to see it all lit up for the Seahawks and then I went home and slept for 5 hours. That itself is pretty fricken weird for me. I don't ever function on 5 hours of sleep. Especially after doing something physical the day before. My day was chill and I went to my parents to celebrate my and my brother's birthday and watch the Probowl. I was watching the news and apparently someone had driven off an on ramp to a bridge, and died. The area could best be described as a steep hill right off of a main street where there are fences and such. I thought it was weird someone had died downtown the night I went out and vaguely wondered if I had seen them.

Then I had Monday off for my job and had just a normal sort of quiet day.

Tuesday went back to work and that was all fine, and only some minor annoyances with people after. I was reading the news app, and the story said that the man from the crash had been identified and the official cause of death was "traumatic dismemberment."  I was wondering how traumatic dismemberment was different from regular dismemberment so I voice searched traumatic dismemberment. DON'T EVER DO THAT. My phone responded with "Here are pictures of traumatic dismemberment." I'll leave those results up to your imagination.

That night, I had a horrendous dream about people being murdered. After the second or third murder, I realized that they kept occurring outside of places I was. I was the common link, and it lead to me having a stalker who wanted to murder me but was unable to, so he murdered other women to show me. I woke up, breathing heavily. It was hard to get back to sleep. My dog wanted to go out and I refused to go outside. She jumped back into bed and eventually I calmed down and fell back asleep.

At work today, I was talking to the gals about my traumatic dismemberment surprise, and told them about the accident. I looked at the man's obituary, and slowly but surely it dawned on me... I had seen that face. It was the guy who shared his party hat. I wanted to be sure, so I went to his facebook memorial page, and sure enough, someone had posted his snapchats from that night on there. There I was, with him. This man, whom I had never met before that night, and never expected to see again. Yet I was one of the last people to see him. We took that photo literally only hours before he died. Odder yet, he was also out celebrating his Golden birthday.. 24 on the 24th.

I honestly don't fully know how to feel about it. I feel horrible for his family and friends. The warmth and kindness he showed me was greatly appreciated. I texted E and she said "I know. Turns out he was one of my student's best friends."

Thoughts of this have lingered with me all day. I still felt creeped out by my dream, and paranoid. I had something to do tonight so I took my dog to my parent's house. On my way back from picking her up, I saw a lost dog. This dog was on a windy, narrow road in the dark and fog. I had to stop. I turned around, and was trying to get the dog to come to me. It was standing in the middle of the road, and a car had to stop, so I ran and just picked the dog up. The guy in the car yelled "Yours?" "No..." "You got it?" "I guess so...." Since I had my dog in the car, I wasn't totally sure how this was going to go. So the guy stopped, and he called the owner. They made plans to meet at a parking lot at the top of the hill. I got back in my car and decided to go to the meeting place just to make sure the dog got back with the owner and keep the guy company in case it took a while.

The owner was already there, and the guy who took the dog told him I was the one who found him. The owner came over, said thank you, and gave me a bottle of wine. The dog was 12 and his son was feeling horrible because the dog slipped past him. She had been out free for 5 hours. I am so glad I stopped to help, but I still feel like I am in a daze. Today has been bizarre. At least I got some wine?

I can't qualify what I am feeling right now. I just wanted to write this so I apologize if it isn't very well organized. I just wanted my thoughts out so I could look back and remember.

Let's try this again

Okay. Here is one more attempt. Obviously, I am not great at keeping up a blog. But as I have recently moved and am living alone, there is very little mental stimulation going on in my little corner of the world. All I have essentially done on my week of vacation is sleep, watch Netflix, read, and go for walks. Of course I celebrated and had an amazing Independence Day in there too, as it is my favorite holiday and second favorite day of the year. In part I haven't done much because my friends were not on vacation with me, so there wasn't really anyone to do things with. In part I have been worried about my little nugget of a dog who I hope is starting to realize we live here and she just needs to know I will always come back to her here. Her separation anxiety has been reignited by the move (which I expected would happen, as this is a very stressful time for her), and she has chosen to express it vocally if I leave the house without her. However, when I hid in the basement with the internet man, she calmed down fairly quickly, so I believe (and hope) she doesn't whine all day long. Monday will be interesting when I go back to work and she will be alone all day. But she has done it before, and can do it again. I just hope she doesn't destroy anything important. Wish me luck.

Living alone means spending a more significant amount of time solo. I worry about boredom, I worry about becoming too much of a hermit. I can easily envision myself burrowing into my own created world, rarely surfacing. I assume that others know how to lose themselves in their own brain, but sometimes I am not so sure. Perhaps it is something others can't quite accomplish. I can feel the shifts and alterations in my brain and moods when I spend too much time alone. I notice changes in my eating patterns, sleep, energy, and general approach to life. So I am hoping by making myself blog maybe I can stay afloat, stay in touch with reality.

We'll see what happens. Maybe somewhere along the line I will learn how to remain interested in something. I haven't been very good at that for my whole life though. It is probably one of the most obnoxious things about me, in my opinion. I try to change it, but then I just don't have that internal motivation to do so, hence the origin of the problem. I also won't force myself to do something I don't want to do, because I learn to loathe it. Loathe it. Maybe it's good I recognize it? I don't know. I don't know why I have such a hard time committing to things. To people. To plans. To most things in general. I find it interesting, because while I have a hard committing to something, I am also incredibly loyal and have a hard time leaving things. Like work. My family. I have friends that I have known for over a decade. My dog. Peanut butter. I am an odd creature who has a routine and needs consistency, but also gets bored and wants change but with little desire to produce the change. Yeah, it's something I have been exploring for a long time. Not surprising though, have made very little progress in changing anything.

I also find in interesting that change for me isn't really that hard. I just moved, and am living alone, and all I feel is "meh." I got excited for about 3 days, and then by the time I moved, I was over it. Now I just live here, and that's life. I haven't really put any effort into decorating. I hope to paint, so hopefully that will help me want to actually put in the effort. I know a lot of women who said that they loved living alone when they were younger. That is was the best. We'll see. So far it doesn't really feel that different from when I lived in Montana. Or Morocco. Except there isn't anyone to make me food, and I have to do that all on my own.

I really miss having a boyfriend to cook for me. That was the best part of being in a relationship.

Kidding.

Kind of. I really like other people making me food.

To my girls

Funny, I have 3 or 4 blog posts that I have written, but didn't post. Weird how I have turned what was supposed to public into my private diary. This is a post though, that I have been thinking about for a long time, and am finally writing. Partly because I am buzzed, and partly because I have the time. This is going to sound a lot like a love letter to my girlfriends, mostly because that is what it is. Living at home this past year and a bit has made me realize just how vital girlfriends are in life, and how much I desperately miss them. To my male friends: I love you too, but let's be real. Girls and guys are different, and my guy friends can never supply the essence of the female friend. You may be a fantastic friend, but you're not a girlfriend.

I have never been a girl to have an obscene amount of girlfriends, and this became particularly true during college. During high school I hung out with girls more than guys to be sure, but I didn't really make new ones. I had my group, and we were cool. Most of them were from elementary school, or were friends of my friends from elementary school. I have roots with these women, and maybe that is what makes them so important. They know me, my history, who I have been, and who I am becoming. Some of us don't fit together anymore, but some of us work better now than ever. I made one real girlfriend in college, and she is just fantastic. We seem to be going through very similar things in life, and in a way, it's nice that we have no preconceived notion of what came before. We just know each other as the women we were at 20 and 19. We have similar upbringings and parents, so in a way, it feels as though I understand her past, and she gets mine.

While I haven't acquired many girlfriends, I know that the ones I have are pretty fucking fantastic. Truly. I know that girls are known to fight and be catty, but I can honestly say that I trust these women with my life. They know my secrets, and I can't honestly see them betraying me. (So... don't. okay ladies?) That's not to say we have never had our ups and downs or problems or ever gossiped about each other, but we don't.. fight. I can't think of a time I have truly been so upset with any of these girls. We may have separated for a while, and seen things differently, but I don't think I have ever felt like they have done anything to harm me or my character. (As a disclaimer, I don't really fight with anyone). I respect each one, and truly want the best for them. I love to see them succeed. I want them to be happy, and to find what they want most in life. When they succeed, I really just get so excited. They are doing awesome, and that is ALWAYS a reason for celebration.

Part of the amazing things of a girlfriend is the understanding and the support. I can tell my girlfriend that I have no clue what to do in life, and they can easily respond with a "me either. but we'll rock it when we get there." If I have an idea for what maybe I should do, it's "Hell yes, man. Do what makes you happy. You can do it!" Sometimes, you just really need someone on your side, and I feel like they are. It is hard because none of them live in the same town as me. There are so many ways to communicate, but it's just not the same. I have realized that though I don't want a romantic relationship, I really do miss my close friendships. When you feel like your support system is spread around the country, it makes it hard.

So I want to say thank you to these amazing women who are in my life. This is sappy, but true. You guys keep me sane. You make me feel like I am not the only one. I am so lucky to have people I can trust. I miss you. But distance is just shortened by a drive or a plane ride. There are many reasons why I am thankful to have you each in my life. This is enough for now though. Thank you for everything.

Dreams

One thing that I have always been fascinated by has been my dreams. I have always been a vivid dreamer, and can still recall childhood dreams with more clarity than a TV show I saw last week. I've always been one of those people who often wakes up feeling certain emotions, depending on the dreams. Sure, I don't have intense dreams every night, but I usually remember dreaming almost every night. It's surreal when you wake up feeling more happiness, heartbreak, fear or some other strong emotion than you ever feel throughout the day. Of course, the negative dreams linger longer than the good ones, but such is life. I've never seen Inception, but from what I understand of it, I really don't need to. I've dreamed within a dream, within in a dream. I've had supernatural experiences in my dreams. I've been half awake, unable to make my body move while my brain is telling me I need to get up. (By the way, that is the worst fucking feeling ever. You feel as though someone is watching you or robbing you or about to violate you, and you can not move. You can not speak, you can't pull yourself out of whatever that place is. You feel a heavy pressure, and I imagine it's much like what being paralyzed feels like. As someone who does not like losing control of their body, it's terrifying.) I've had mofia dreams, several times, where the mob kills my whole family and I have to run because they are hunting me. I have my famous 'penis' dream which is really funny, but at the time was frightening. I've had dreams of boys and crushes that seemed so real that they still bring a smile to my face. I've had points where I can't remember if what I remember is a dream, or if it happened in real life. Yet overall, with all the bad (which reflecting on my dreamemories [a word I just made up] seem to outweigh the good), I've always loved dreaming. I've always had a good relationship with sleep. I don't think sleep is a waste of time, because my brain works so hard during it. And sleep is just awesome in general, biologically and beyond.

Until recently. My quarterlife crisis has been staring me in the face lately, to the point where my mom thinks I might have an ulcer. I took a mental health day off of work, and just about had a breakdown. My body was revolting against food, my torso was continuously in pain, and it was just overall not that great. Things aren't quite so bad and my stomach seems to have calmed down. But my sleep is still a little janky, and it worries me. Off and on over the last month, I've had issues sleeping. I blame it on the heat, because I hate the heat, and need a room to be cold to be comfortable when sleep.  I just don't fall asleep as easily and wake up a couple of times in the middle of the night. Which, according to every sleep aid commercial, most Americans have it a lot worse than that.

However, this last week has freaked me out a bit beyond that. For instance, last night, as well as the night of the 4th, it honestly kind of felt like my body was trying to kill me. That is a big exaggeration, and the pain wasn't that, but it was more of the way that I felt when I woke up. I had odd dreams-not really scary, but just..... such a consuming bad feeling. I had to get up and get out of bed to try to make myself feel better. I can't even fully describe the way I felt when I woke up, or the emotion that would be attached to it. It was... heavy. It felt like an emotional weight that I hadn't really experienced before, and it was quite unpleasant. My stomach was in pain, but that may all be due to the potential ulcer. I don't know what my subconscious is trying to tell me, but it feels like doom. Whether that's doom if I move, doom if I stay, doom in life in general, or what I am really unsure. I've just never felt like sleep isn't my safe place. I find my brain utterly interesting, but this scares me a bit quite frankly. It affects my morning, and takes me a long time to shake. I believe in listening to your body and your subconscious, yet I don't know what all of this means. I wish I could be linked up to a machine while I sleep to see what parts of the brain are activated while all of this is going on.

I know that my body isn't actually trying to kill me, so I just hope that I figure out this internal turmoil to go back to just the bizarre dreams that I prefer.


 

It's been a while.

Man, I suck at keeping a blog. I knew this would happen. I think about it a lot, and I've even written two draft posts (which I decided were too personal-go figure. point of a blog, right?) However, I'm hoping this will change because I got my new laptop this week! I have named her Herbert, and she is so pretty. I am one of those people who name their things. My mp3 player is named la granja, and my car is named Sheliah. I didn't name my last computer, but with this one, it was required to go through the whole registration thing. And for some reason, Herbert popped in to my head. Which is also the second time in my life I have used Herbert for a female. I once named a girl duck Herbert.

Anyway, I'm trying to use my new laptop as the moment of change for my life. I'm seriously considering moving, but I'm having a hard time finding a job. I can't decide if I should hold out for a job that actually has to do with what I want to do with my life, or if I should just get a job and keep trying to volunteer until I have more experience to get the jobs I want. Or, if I should just move and then find the job. I know that's not the smartest thing, but the jobs I want aren't really specialized jobs, so I feel like the fact that I don't live in that city might deter a place from hiring me. I also want job that won't make me have to dip in to my savings to survive. So, we'll see. Plus, I'm just so ready to be somewhere new. I've been here for a year, and my life isn't really going anywhere. I don't really have the relationships here that I used to, and I don't feel that attached anymore.  Canada won't accept me either, because I'm not skilled enough, worth enough, nor do I have family or a spouse there. So...unless a Canadian wants to marry me... I'm going to have to wait a while. That's okay, because I still want to go to school there.

I also think moving will force me to think about my life more. I'm just..comfortable now. It's boring, I'm not challenged really, personally or professionally. My parents are kind of driving me crazy. I just need to do it. I'm hoping to be there by the end of the summer. There was a chance I'd stay in town if I got this really amazing opportunity, but nothing came out of it. I tried to put myself out there a bit more, and I got no response. I can't tell if I should try again or just let it go. It's possible the email got deleted because the place had a big event going on that week. I'll decide on Saturday, which is when I volunteer.

It's also hard because a lot of the jobs that have to do with what I want to do require canvassing and calling people. I'd rather not work in that part of it. I don't mind doing community events and tabling, but calling people fucking sucks, so I imagine going door to door is a lot like calling people, only amplified. I'll figure it out though. I'm feeling more of a desire to get out, and that's what really matters. It'd be really scary, but more and more I feel like it's what I need to do.

There's also the possibility that it will be absolutely miserable. I have a hard time making friends, and so that is what makes me most nervous. I'm good at making acquaintances, but taking it further into actual friendship takes me a long time usually. I don't know where I will meet people. Luckily, I don't be totally alone, since I know people that live there (and it would be really nice to have a girlfriend in the same city again). I am also nervous about my dog, because I can't force her on anyone, and I don't know how she'll do when it's just the two of us. She has come a very long way in the last year, but she doesn't do change well. And I think it would be pretty neat to live alone. I would just have to make sure I don't become a complete hermit. I would be afraid of having someone break in, but in all reality, crime is pretty high in my current city, so I feel like you just have to find a better neighborhood and be smart. There's crime everywhere, so you just have to do your best to avoid it. However, I would not get a gun. I have defense weapons, and I'm not going to shoot someone for stealing my stuff. But, my view on guns is a whole other blog post or two. So anyway. We'll see what happens. It's all up to me being able to make that move, and this is about taking control of my life. I'm too young to be miserable.

I hope I follow through... but knowing me, there's still a possibility I won't.

You're beautiful.... remember? James Blunt said so.

Yeah, I did that. I like old popculture references and I think we let go of them too soon.

Now to what I actually want to write about. Beauty.

It seems to be a pretty ever-present topic in our day to day life. But what does mean? For me, beauty really has very little to do with attractiveness. I have pushed myself into seeing people for who they are, and letting that beauty shine. This is because when I was younger, I was constantly looking at other people and feeling inadequate in terms of physical appeal. And I got sick of that shit. I also got older. I gained confidence. It was not a quick process, but I got there eventually. But now there is one thing that bothers me.

As women, I feel as though it is not appropriate to say, "Yeah, I like my body. I'm pretty content with my level of physical attractiveness." The stereotype of girls saying, "Ugh, I look so fat today" or "Ugh, my [certain body part] is so [hideous, like a whale, is awful, etc]" or just general disparaging comments is actually pretty true. Countering that are the friends who hear this and say "Ohmygod, you are crazy!" or "Dude, don't even. My [other body part] is [even worse comparison]." There are also many motivational quotes and sayings for girls to love who they are and not feel the pressure to look a certain way. Yet there is little celebration for women who actually have achieved that level of being okay with their bodies.

 Granted this is not everybody, and I feel like I have certain friends who I can say, "Damn, my [body part] looks great today!" to and they will say, "Dayyyyum, hell yeah it does!" in return. Yet I feel like in general, girls like to hate on other girls who actually have the confidence that we all are potentially striving for. I used to be that girl-totally. I hated seeing other girls looking prettier than me, having confidence that I desperately wanted. Mostly though, I hated them for having what I didn't have. I wanted to know how they got that. And then I would start to dislike them, based on nothing, and create in my head this vision of them where they are a terrible person and a whore. The sad thing is, I am certainly not the only one. Girls do this. They really do. I decided one day that it was stupid and rude. I don't know this girl. She has her own insecurities just like me, why should I be mad because she's having a good time? So, I slowly trained myself to stop. Here's how:

I started admitting to myself when and of what I was envious. I also started saying something nice about this person to combat the mean that was ruminating in my head. Such things as "well, she looks like she's a good friend" or "Good for her-she's enjoying her night out." Strangely enough, it's worked. I also started a drunk crusade of girls being nicer to each other. Every time I'd go out drinking, I'd tell every girl in the bathroom that girls are too mean to each other, and then I'd compliment the girls in the bathroom. It was ridiculous, but the response I got was actually really positive. While I don't drink or go out as much as I used to, I still try to do this mentally whenever I see girls and feel that tinge of envy.

This leads me back to my original point. Being envious of someone because of their looks is pointless. Unless you are willing to go under substantial plastic surgery, why bother? Sure, I wish I looked differently sometimes-but I don't. I'm also lazy and don't bother spending a lot of time trying to make myself look better by doing my hair and make-up. So, I decided to work on changing what I can change-which is who I am. I strive to be kind, to be loyal, to be honest, to not be the person who weighs others down. I want to make others laugh, I want to be happy with who I'm becoming, I want to be driven, I want to be a positive in this world. I want to make change, I want to make a difference in the lives of others in a good way. The strange thing is, working on who I am inside, has made me feel so much better as to who I am on the outside. I'm not focused on the parts of me I don't like, and it's actually quite liberating. It's not easy, certainly. But it feels so much more productive to work on what I can change about myself, rather than wishing parts of me were different.

I have changed my definition of beauty, and as cheesy as it sounds, I have decided it really does come from within. You can be born with a beautiful appearance, but it doesn't mean that you are a beautiful person. I'm not trying to say that I am perfect, but rather that I acknowledge my flaws and weaknesses, and I am okay with them. I am working on it, and it's a personal struggle. I don't feel the need to tell other people how awesome I think I am. That doesn't matter. Telling myself that I am not a wretched human being has gotten me a lot further.

So I guess that's my call to other women: stop putting other women down because of the way they look. Focus on yourself, you'll likely be a lot happier. I used to have a roommate who would frequently make comments like "how does she have a boyfriend and I don't? She's not even cute!" Well, if you have a shitty personality, that's probably why. Looks are nice, but they aren't everything.


 

Oh, hey there.

I really needed last weekend. I got to see old friends, I got to travel, the weather was gorgeous, and it was overall a pretty carefree weekend. Plus, I got to go to Vancouver, which in my head has been existing as a form of paradise, a magical place where all my dreams will come true. This is because I have sort of set my heart on going to grad school at UBC. Vancouver itself was a little overwhelming for me, I'm not going to lie. BUT HOLY SHIT was campus amazing. It was big, but quiet. At the end was a superb view of the bay and the mountains. It was secluded from the rest of the city, which made it feel very Northwest. Or I suppose Southwest, since it was Canada. The only downside is the expense of living in Vancouver/surrounding area. It's incredibly expensive, and very hard to do with a not-so-small dog. One thing I gained over this past week, however, is extra determination to go. Now my biggest fear is not getting accepted. I think that would legitimately break my heart. So, it fueled me to work on my volunteering and to make things happen. I sent out an email to my dream location today, so I'm hoping she'll respond with something I can do. I donated money last week, but I don't think that really counts.

Another aspect that has helped my determination, I think, is that I feel as though my parents are coming around to the idea more, and are growing more supportive. I was going to do it anyway, but my parents are an incredibly large part of my life, and there's still the little girl in me that wants to make them proud. Having their support just helps my overall moral. Plus, my mom surprised my brother and I this morning with a monetary gift from my grandma's estate. My grandma didn't have a will, so her money was to be evenly divided between her children. My mom has decided to share that with my brother and me, and I am incredibly grateful. This has not solved all my problems, no where near it, but I know she knows that this is a huge thing for me. All I am currently worried about is how to afford school in Canada. I did a cost calculator at the UBC website, and they say I need 30k to survive each year. The program is 2 years. The sad part is, the school itself is only 1/3rd of the cost. Not even, actually. It's the living expenses that add up quite quickly. Of course I would work, and I would love to get a scholarship, but I would prefer to not be completely broke while attending school. I am trying to prepare myself for the worst.

I just want to be brave enough to do it. I trust in me, and I trust that things happen as they are supposed to. If this is meant to be, then it will be. If it's not, then something else will just come of it. It reminds me of one of my favorite movie quotes: "You cannot leave everything to Fate, boy. She's got a lot to do. Sometimes you must give her a hand."
I just have to brave enough to push destiny the way I want.



(I may also be feeling a little postive and bright because of the weather outside. It's so warm and sunny, the flowers are starting to bloom. You can't help but feel happy.)