It's my birthday, I do what I want!

I have a birthday coming up in a couple weeks. I can't decide if I like birthdays or if I hate them. Either way, it gets a girl thinking. I can't help it. Every year I pull out my mental life chart: Where am I and where should I be? Am I where I thought I would be at this age? Usually the answer is no and whether I had been aware of it or not in years past, it added to my stress level.

I've decided that this year will be different. This year I will burn the mental life chart.

I will be in The Longhorn State, eating bbq and hopefully buying myself a sweet pair of boots. Boots I'll probably wear twice and laugh at every time I open my closet, but who cares! This year I will worry a lot less about what other people think I'm doing or should be doing. This year I will have fun no matter how old I am or where I live. This year I will live life the way it should be lived.

And I would appreciate it if you would hold me to that!

The plan is there is no plan.

I'm about to head out on yet another adventure in a couple weeks. This time to Texas, Massachusetts, New York and Oregon. And I'll be insanely busy while I'm out there with work to do, dates to go on, weddings to be in, and new people to meet. I'm excited to go, no argument there. I'm also curious about what will happen and with whom. I'm anticipating a few things and I'm nervous about the things I can't possibly know. And I find myself day dreaming an awful lot these days.


The question on my mind, while I housesit for a friend, has been, "Where will I find myself living next?" I noticed that it's become more of a fleeting question than a stress inducing thought. I've been poking around craigslist every now and then, looking at different rent prices in different cities. I gave the house buying scenario a shot, in hopes that buying a house would somehow sit right with me. And nothing has struck me as "the thing to do" just yet. I said it before and I'll say it again, I have never in my life been without a plandeadlinegoal.

I sort of gave myself a timeline though of when I'd like to have something figured out and/or started (October-ish), but I'm not making myself any promises. In fact, I'm not making any promises to anyone or anything these days. It's kind of nice. Having the chance to dream big and not feel like any of my choices are boxed in...it's most incredible feeling.

The Do's and Dont's

I recently made a list of dont's for myself. Not my usual list. Usually my lists consist of things I want to get done or aspire to accomplish. Some are long and may take a lifetime to achieve. Others are short and I race around all dayweekmonth trying to cross every last word off my little, yellow sticky notes.

All of this was brought on when I noticed that I have an insane amount of freedom these days. Teetering on ultimate freedom. I don't have a home. I have a job that affords me to travel anywhere at anytime. I'm single for the first time in years. I'm free. To do whatever. And it's kind of been stressing me out. I know. I know. It sounds great. On paper. But the reality is, not very many people want to be this free for long. I know I don't. But in the meantime, I refuse to be miserable during a time that could be amazing.

Without further ado, the list of dont's:

1. Don't get knocked up yet.
   (Can also be read: don't do anything that will get you knocked up.) Being single, this is highly unlikely to happen. But I thought it would be a good one to write down so that my new found freedom wouldn't go to my head! I'm free. Not invincible.
2. Don't spend money and time on things that don't matter.
   Having fewer expenses opens up a girls options, but I'm trying to be careful to not get sucked into anything that doesn't really need my involvement.
3. Don't be afraid of what could be.
   With any place. Or any person. Or any opportunity.
4. Don't be afraid to jump.
   I'm notorious for deliberating a decision to death.
5. Don't spend free time worrying.
   Such a waste.
6. Don't forget to say no. A lot.
   I'm a sucker for puppy dog eyes and stories of the heart.
7. Don't forget to spend time with the kiddos in the family.
   They grow up so fast. (Partial pun intended.)
8. Don't neglect the parents. They will be old someday.
9. Don't opt out of fun. It doesn't come around every day.
10. Don't forget: you're young.
    Sometimes (read: all the time) I put enormous amounts of pressure on myself to be great while doing great things with great people in great places. It's a little much. Plus, I just had a conversation with a good friend the other night about turning 40 and being alone with cats. I hate cats.

A list of dont's can be such a downer. It runs the risk of putting one in a box. And nobody likes to be told what to do-even if it's coming from their own Jiminy Cricket. But I think, for this city girl, my list of dont's is just right.

The run-away child

I love running. For so many reasons. I don't get to do it as much as I would like, but when I do finally have some time to run it's sacred time. I used to run for training reasons or to punish myself for eating cheesecake or to tone-up or just drop a couple lb's. But now...now I run, because my soul needs it more than my body.

I've noticed a new pattern in my running. It's steady and it's steadfast. It's become my therapy. This year started out rough and got even rougher as the weeks turned into months. Relationships (on all fronts) went crazy, too many people passed away, and the process of letting go became too overwhelming at points.

Soon I found myself running all the time. Running to get over relationships gone awry. Running to clear my head. Running to keep from crying. (Turns out if you need to cry bad enough, you can still do both.) Running, running, running...

There have been times that I had myself convinced that if I just ran harder and faster I could somehow speed up time or leave reality in the dust. Other times I felt like I was doing it for freedom's sake. Because I could. And then there's today. Today will be no different from all the times before. I will, once again, be meeting in my synagogue of solitude as my feet rhythmically pound the pavement. Racing forward to clear my head, to keep from crying while escaping reality and for freedom's sake.

Today, I run.

Best laid plans: Part Deux.

I realized today that I've left this post undone. Or rather, unfinished. The remainder of that day went something like this:

11:15am Make it to the other gate. You know, the one they didn't announce would be the actual place one would need to be in order to go home.
11:30am Get to attendant's counter to double check my confirmed seat. Am told that I don't have one. The flight is sold out and attendant is unsure why United would tell anyone they could go home. I tell attendant, fire burning in my eyes, to find me a seat.
11:31am Confirmed seat is magically found for me. Probably out of fear of being accosted.
11:45am Announcement is made that the flight is delayed due to mechanical problems. I anticipate an hour delay at least.
12:00pm Flight gets canceled. I laugh hysterically and start to resemble a state hospital patient.
12:05pm Wait for grumbling, exasperated people to clear the area and call United to rebook. Think to myself, "Those suckers are going to wait in line at customer service for hours. But not this girl! Hahahaha!" (More maniacal laughter.)
12:30pm Find myself in said line just to get my hands on a hotel voucher. Make friends with guy headed to Germany. Think he's funny. And gay.
12:45pm Discover short cut to said voucher. Make my way to the front of the airport and make sure I look pathetic, but agreeable at the ticketing counter.
12:55pm Get set up with a bitchin' hotel room for the night, warm cookies and a meal ticket to boot.
1:30pm Finally get a shower. Almost pass out from all the excitement of my current dream coming true.

The rest of the day was awesome (dinner, shopping, laughing with an old friend). And the very next day I did, in fact, make it home! It was the best feeling....Felt like I had accomplished something. Although, in reality I just showed up at another doorway and hoped it led me home.

Hott Mess. Two T's.

About 8 years ago one of my very best friends got married. It was a fairly surreal experience since all of us were only about 20 years old and while we all knew she would be one of the first ones to bite the dust get married, nobody really knew what marriage was about. Or what a serious relationship was for that matter. Suffice it to say, there were tears at this wedding, the likes of which I have never seen at another wedding since.

And now her sister (my faux sister) is getting married in about a month. But this time is different. This time we've all had a serious relationship or two, some of us got married, and for the most part we know what marriage entails. I thought I would handle this one better. I thought I would be a rock. I would be able to get through the wedding and toasts and sweet words just fine. I was wrong.

I had to make a toast tonight at the bridal shower and before I even had a minute to think about what I might say the tears beat my words to the punch. I was doing awesome all the way up to that point. And then, instantaneously, I wasn't awesome. Which makes me slightly scared for this wedding. I'm not the MOH, but I will be one of the girls up front crying her eyes out. Completely uncool. Not composed. Looking like someone ran over my dog.

Anyone know of a good water-proof mascara?

Best laid plans.

Getting from Point A to Point B has never been so difficult. Three flights to get from The Second City back to The Country is a bit excessive by any standards, but then to delay flights, miss flights, get bumped over to stand-by status and end up spending more time in the airport than on an airplane is just plain ridiculous. Capital R. And in true City Girl form, it was a highly dramatic happening.

I have now spent 1.5 days in three different airports, run through the current airport four times (a literal run with sweat. gross.) and spent the night in a strangers bed. I think it would best be summed up with this timeline:

8:00am Knock back tea so hot it takes off the first few layers of skin in my mouth. Leave friends apt and go downtown with her to her office. Meet her boss. Mention that Long Beach State sucks. Find out it's his alma mater. (Awesome.) Come to the conclusion I will never work for this company. Don't find him funny anyway.
10:00am Hop on blue line to airport.
12:20pm Discover I have left important items at friends house. Leave The Second City and fly to Middle of Nowhere, Oklahoma. 
2:30pm Arrive in Middle of Nowhere and find out my flight is delayed another 2 hours on top of the 2 hour layover I already anticipated. No biggie. Still going home today. (Or so I think.) Also discover they are cow tipping champs. They have the shirts to prove it. Make friends with a commissioner for the AFL and his gay assistant. Find it ironic that a gay man works for the AFL.
6:40pm Land in The Centennial State, home of the Rockies, race to the gate, almost cough up a lung, and learn that I just missed my flight home. Ok. Not ideal. Not going to worry though. I have a friend who happens to be gracing the area today and call her up for a good time.
8:00pm Go out to dinner with friend and live it up! See a good chunk of the downtown area and decide that if I were to live here I would perpetually feel guilty about not being a hardcore outdoorswoman. But love the fact that everyone rides bikes and owns a dog. Decide I might come back someday for a visit.
10:00pm Run through the airport at break neck speed and see that the flight was delayed another 20 minutes. Realize I will indeed make this flight. Correction: Realize I will indeed make it to the gate in time to get on the plane.
10:13pm Arrive at gate hot, sweaty, tired while waving my ticket wildly in my hand and announce, "I made it!" Look over to see that the door is still open and I have a chance.
10:14pm Flight attendant tells me she gave my seat to a standy-by flyer. I tell flight attendant that I'm here. In case, she was talking to herself, is blind, has multiple personalities and has confused me as one of them or refuses to see me standing there in the flesh all hot, sweaty and tired.
10:15pm Flight attendant doesn't care about my appearance or physical state. Hands me a ticket for tomorrow and a discount for a hotel and sends me on my way.
10:16pm I start to lose it. Mutter an obscenity under my breath and walk away. Send out angry tweet in hopes of the CEO of United discovering a disgruntled customer.
10:40pm Get picked up by friend. Rent a movie. Notice that house is slightly cleaner than gutters in India before eyelids begin their final descent. Don't care. Fall asleep in friends bed for the night while watching said movie. (Actually, it is someone else's bed. Friend happens to be sleeping in it.)

Next Day
6:55am Roll out of bed and head for the airport. Again.
8:30am Call airline and tell them of my woes and the tragedy that had befallen me the day before.
8:40am Receive free flight voucher from airline. Twitter about how all is right with the world again.
9:40am Get told I will not make the flight home. Get sent to the other side of the airport.
10:00am Near tears, I call the airline again and negotiate my way from stand-by to a confirmed seat on the next flight home.
10:30ish am Blog about injustice.

My hair is greasy, my clothes look like they past travel-worn about ten miles ago, I'm hungry (but refuse to leave this gate for fear of losing my seat again) and need a nap in the worst way. And as luck would have it, an alarm just went off at the gate next to mine.
Terrorist alert?
Fire?
Tsunami in The Rockies?
Bring it on.