and then there were 4

Well hello there, wayward internet browser.  Welcome.

Have you ever seen Spider-Man 2?  The one with Alfred Molina as Doctor Otto Octavius, AKA Doctor Octopus?  In the movie he is working on building a fusion reactor that will provide clean and renewable energy from a globule of matter as powerful as the sun.  This glowing ball of light hovers in a machine with magnetized arms that sustain it, keeping it in balance.  If you can't picture it, I shall provide you will an image.  Exhibit A:

Ignore Doc Ock.  So you can kind of tell by the picture but like the sun, the reactor has these bursts of light coming out.  They end up getting pretty large and in charge until they consequently destroy everything around them.  Since you're going with me so willingly on this, I'd like to interject that I am viewing that orb as one of my relationships with one of my "bests."  Observe.

You meet a person and a spark ignites inside of you; not all the time, but with the people you find interesting.  Y'all know what I'm talking about because it is the driving force behind most of your relationships or it was at some point.  That sparks grows and grows with the relationship, and in my eyes it grows into a bubble of sorts.  Invisible, of course, but always there like a beating heart.  Maybe I just look at it this way because I'm sentimental, but if I wasn't, then I wouldn't cry at superhero movies.  Shouldn't have written that.

Eventually, like the good Doctor's nuclear reactor, the relationship becomes self-sustaining.  You don't have to keep adding new information to help it grow, because you have established a base that it can reside on.  This comes after an indeterminate amount of time but that all depends on the person.  Sooner or later you come to see the flaws in the other half of the relationship, I know I do.  Usually the flaws aren't necessarily "flaws" as they are the bits and pieces of potential problems that could arise sometime down the line but ones you ignore.  Like the small arcs in the above picture.

Within every relationship there is something like a seam, usually buried beneath the smiles but one that can be exposed as something ugly.  Something unnecessary.  Unnecessary because it would take a cold day in hell for those problems in the seam to rear their ugly heads in the daylight.  But like the fusion reactor, sometimes a problem explodes outward from the core of the relationship and it destroys everything in its wake.  And it's a scary thing to realize how quickly something so great can go to utter shit, but it happens.

Just did, in fact.

Mrs. S and I have cut off the ties.  To (kinda) quote Pirates of the Caribbean, we were "released from our human bonds."  And it sucks, really... I can make light of it as much as I want but a relationship of 7 years is gone now, and from here, there won't be any going back.  Not on my part.  I had planned on writing this big lament to the things that were but somehow I have lost any drive to do so.  I'm still so angry over it that there aren't really any kind words to write.

I think when you have someone offer to pay you to stay out of their life, a part of you withers up and falls away.  The bubble of our relationship suddenly and quite effectively has burst wide open.  That statement of course coming at the tail-end of a conversation that involved me asking for an apology three times and her failing to deliver on even one.  I'd get more specific but that isn't really the point.  It's the precise reason I choose not to name names in these, because WERE something like this ever to happen, I wouldn't have to throw anyone under the proverbial bus.

I don't wish her ill, nor do I wish any negativity to come her way.  In a lot of ways the relationship ended with a sigh and not a bang, and that is a luxury I'm rarely if ever afforded.  The dreaded-ex ended in quite the bang (him banging someone else, natch.)  What I do wish is that egos could have been put aside, on one of our parts if not both, and that this could have slid away like so many squabbles before.  But it didn't happen like that, and with the "seam" of the relationship exposed it allowed all sorts of horrors to come through.

Without trying to give myself too much credit, I came to realize this past year that by labeling a select few of my friends (five of them) as the "bests" it meant they were untouchable.  It meant they were the only people I surrounded myself with to create a shield of sorts, and that would never change.  @caitcd even asked once if there would be an audition process each year to stay as one of the bests.  I said no, with a laugh, not really thinking about the thought too seriously.  The bests were there because I needed them to be; they had grown increasingly close to me over time and I figured such a label was fitting if not finite.

I didn't realize that over time I would start to feel regret over the labels, because like an oceans tide, friendships ebb and flow.

While some stay my side no matter what (I like to think it's because they are too bored to branch out away from me (haha (sad panda))) others tend to wander away.  And that's alright, really, because if you can't grow separately without growing apart then what is the use in being friends in the first place?  That being said, it's difficult to categorize someone as a "best" when you hardly if ever see them.  If you ever even talk to them... and in a way that played a part in all of this.  Too many broken promises, to many illusions of grandeur fallen by the wayside.  It is what it is.

There is something to be said about the demise of a friendship, and that is the will and desire to push yourself so far beyond what they knew you as.  That way, should you ever reconnect, you will (hopefully) have changed into someone even more impressive.  I suppose I cemented over the big-brother-esque nature of our lives by deleting her from Facebook and Twitter and all of the various other channels of which we as a society have become silent purveyors to our friends and family.

Will we reconnect someday?  Maybe.  Do I want to?  Not especially.  It is what it is and maybe it is how it always should have been.  People come into our lives to push us in a direction we hadn't noticed before, and she certainly did that for me.  Now I just need to make use of it.

Next blog is a happy one, lol, I promise.  Weddings and speeches and smiles, oh my!  And feel free to hit "like" on the new fanpage.  What a self-promotor I've become!

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Sean-Parker-self-proclaimed-author/252090834910809

proving the point

Aristotle was a smart dude, yes?  I mean, he was one of the most important founding figures in Western philosophy, his writings covering subjects from metaphysics and poetry to politics and biology.  Safe to say he could sling a phrase at someone and they would take it to heart.  And though he lived quite a long time ago, I feel as with all philosophers, his words transcend time and space.  Like this nifty one, which I so coincidentally also found on Pinterest.

That's an interesting sentiment.  Why?  Because I think a lot of people have a hard time believing it.  I myself even have a hard time believing it.  After spending 12 years on a book series and then this enthusiastically maintained blog you CONSTANTLY (right?) find yourself in, I still don't really consider myself a writer.  Or an author, as it were.  How else could I keep the clever title?  Pfft.

Couple things spit-balled into a big fuckin' mess today and left me feeling less than pleased in regards to a particular ability I may or may not show a burgeoning talent in.  Photography.  Now don't get me wrong, literally anyone with hands (or without hands, I don't know) can take a picture.  Point and shoot.  Can just anyone take a good picture?  I think so maybe, yes.  But there is a more creative aspect to photography that seems to escape a lot of people, some call it having the "eye," which sounds kind of mystical but to me just means you can see a good shot and you can capture it.  Probably means the same to you.

I don't really have much practice with real photography as of this moment.  I know what an f-stop and aperture are and I took a couple classes in high school.  I can take a pretty decent self-portrait, and I know my way around photoshop pretty well.  Right now, if you handed me a really expensive camera and tossed me in the middle of New York City with an airbrushed model, I could probably take a decent picture.  I would say when all was said and done, a solid "B" would be my score.  Does all of that combined make me a photographer?  Not really, seeing as I don't get paid for it, but then-- oh... hey.

Wait a second.

I don't get paid to write, either, now do I?  Not yet at least.  And though I like to heehaw and guffaw over my literary talents, I am a writer, through and through.  If there is one stake I claim in my life it is that I am a god damn writer.  You can't write over 1,700 pages of a series and continue to blush when you say "oh I dabble in it."  I can't vouch for how GOOD of a writer I am, I'd have to have the peanut gallery weigh in on that one, but the fact that my books have drawn tears says a little something about my skills.

I don't mean to make waves but this whole idea that you have to be paid to credit yourself as something is stupid, stupid, STUPID.  Who is anyone to say you are something other than what you want to be?  Sure, you can't call yourself an astronaut if you've never been to space.  And sure, you can't be a marine biologist if you don't know shit about aquatic life and are afraid of water.   But you can call yourself a writer if you've ever written a poem, a limmerick, a song, a blog, or hell, even a book.  You can call yourself an actor if you've ever stood in front of the lens and recited a few lines.

You can call yourself a photographer if you pick up a camera and shoot pictures of something or someone that might inspire you.  The point is that you try.

That's the beautiful thing about life; you can be whatever you want to be.  I set out this year to nail 26 "New" things to the proverbial wall and I am halfway there.  It is a lot of work, it is a lot of dedication. I never would have classified myself as a documentarian, but ya know what?  I've recorded seven months of my life so far through video and I'm not done yet, so cross that fucker off the list too.

The whole reason I am writing this tonight is because I am angry.  I'm angry that I was told today that I am NOT something I even considered myself to be in the first place.  And you know what?  It doesn't matter.  Because it is just like Aristotle said: We are what we repeatedly do, excellence, therefor, is not an act, but a habit.

I wasn't a writer until I started writing, I wasn't a documentarian until I started filming.  I can't be a photographer until I start taking pictures, so for any of you naysayers out there, sit back and watch the fucking show.  If I can dedicate as much energy into that as I have with the rest of my endeavours, you're in for a treat.  'nuff said.

a simple playlist

I think of music the way I think of any relationship; it has ups and it has downs.  It can set you shooting down a country road with the windows down, wind in your hair as you scream the lyrics at the tops of your lungs.  Conversely it can fill your ears as you lie curled on your bed, tears streaming down your face as you let the tones fill you up.  Powerful stuff, that is!  It's a wonder how when life starts getting crazy for me and things stop making sense in the way I feel they should, that a simple playlist turns it all back around.

Maybe that's because I have rockstar playlists?  I don't know.

Something's been missing from these blogs lately and I think over the last couple days I realized what it was.  Some heart... maybe a little soul, too.  Not soul in the James Brown sense, but in the "hey, I'm usually overly-emotional and it bleeds out into my words, sorry I haven't been," sense.  And I am sorry that I haven't been emotional... er... more interesting.  I think that emotion was part of the original charm of these blogs that you, my (mostly) faithful readers, came to expect.  But the last several blogs have only been about my 26 Golden Things and not the other bits of my day-to-day life that I like to think make me marginally interesting.  Well... very interesting.  I'll just come out and say what everyone is thinking ::tosses hair::

Yesterday I had dinner with @klreynol after a day that felt mostly wasted, and if there is one thing I hate more than girls who can't walk in high heels, it's wasted days off.  We were talking briefly about the blog I dutifully compose and she agreed that the stories therein were getting a little bit dry.  It's great to write about the things you commit to writing (as I have been,) but when they start feeling like a chore is when something has to change.

Lemme side-track you for a little second.

When I bought my iMac in June I was very hasty in lumping my conglomerate of music in the shiny new database and organizing it with iTuens.  Then i synced my iPod before haphazardly downloading Windows 8 on my laptop and effectively deleting the iTunes library on it.  Guess who didn't make copies of his playlists?  This tall son of a bitch right over here.

Back to it.


I have a couple playlists that continuously evolve, chief among them being the blatant "Newly Added" that has songs removed once they've been in for a month and then they are spread through the other lists.  Well I went on a CRAZY downloading spree and "Newly Added" turned into "Mish-mash of every type of music imaginable."  Except bluegrass... that has no business on my computer.  Never-the-less I've been listening to "Newly Added" in my car constantly and it started to get to me.

Usually my music is organized in a way that I can go to it for whatever mood I'm in.  "Fun!" "Mellow" "Mellow - Sad" "Hipsteresque" "Showtunes" "Before the 90's" and "Of the Most Soothing" to name a few.  There's also "Disney" but you get the picture.  Today on the drive to work I couldn't take it anymore and went for the only playlist that was already organized, simply because that is the theme of it and it has no purpose to be in the main music library.

"Christmas."

Yes, I'm one of those people.

I rocked out to Christmas music all the way to work and all the way home, a grand total of 54 minutes of drive time.  Most of the music was happy but I do have a few mopey Christmas songs, and as I was driving I found myself jumping back to the sad ones.  Then I realized the thing I was missing most was one of the playlists for that mood.  Not because I am sad, because I'm not at all.  It's just... because.

I think it's marvellous how listening to something you are craving can turn everything around.  Music to me almost acts as a mirror, and sometimes you can find a song that reflects the things you are thinking or feeling in a way that you don't quite know how to express.  What other medium can do that?  I suppose movies but everyone knows that!  It takes a bit more of a keen intellect to appreciate good music.  Not just the shit you hear on Kiss FM or something of the likes, but everything else.

How many of you have purchased a movie score simply to listen to the instrumental bits of a favorite film?  How many of you have gone on a wild downloading spree after watching a video on youtube and then clicking with reckless abandon on the video links running down the right side of the web page?  I have; I actually do it a lot.  How else are you going to find those hidden gems you otherwise never would have heard about?  Some of my favorite songs ever have never been played on the radio and I love that.

I don't love that it means the rest of the world won't ever get to hear it, but I love that I am one of a select group that gets to indulge in the tones.  Me and my freak memory can pinpoint where I first heard most of the songs in my iTunes library, either by movie or location.  And no, before you think it, not in an "alright, tell me where you were the first time you heard 'Tell Me What It Takes' by Aerosmith," way.  I associate music with certain times in my life.  My all-time favorite song is "Paint the Silence" by South, which I first heard while closing the American Eagle store in Appleton.

It happened to be on the soundtrack for season one of "The O.C."

I ran out and bought the album (one of the few compilation CD's where I still love every single song) and played it non-stop.  That was the summer of 2004, the best summer of my life, and everytime I hear "Paint the Silence" I am transported back to it in a way I can't describe.  The emotions of that summer, the happiness I had at being free of high school and fully coming out and everything that entailed.  Music does that for me.

I think it's important I keep my playlists fully-stocked, all the time.  This little event probably won't occur again until I buy another new computer, and even then I have certain safeguards in place to ensure it doesn't.  I've alrady tackled "Mellow - Sad," and I am so glad I did.  Maybe a little bit of self-reflection is what I need right now.  The days just keep getting hotter and the nights not really colder; this type of music tends to shift my focus towards fall which I suppose is just around the corner.

A few big events are quickly approaching in the next couple weeks, including but not limited to the day my best friend gets married and I have to share the title of soul-mate with her betrothed.  Those blogs will probably be pretty entertaining, re: emotional.  Huzzah for you!  I guess if I really wanted to make these more interesting I could just start taking my top off and posting the pictures more often.

But everyone knows that whores don't get a second chance.  Ciao!

hit the runway

I think most people would agree that summer is a fantastic season.  It just is.  You can run around shirtless (some people (in some places (not all places (duh)))) and soak up the sun nearly every day.  You can go tubing down the river with friends, take a walk through the crazy humid air that is so thick with moisture it feels like you can drink it, and drink as many margaritas as you'd like.  Or as I'd like, as it were.  Those are some of the reasons we love this time of year, right?  Because six months from now we'll be wishing for this weather as we suck in freezing air and feel our throats turn to ice.  Because we all can't live in California; ladies am I right?

One of the OTHER things I love about summer is that you never quite know what it is going to bring up or in.  For example, the grand openings of so many businesses in the area and the ensuing events that come with them.  And within those examples, perhaps, the grand opening of the Ash&Ember studio owned by my friend Ryan.  @caitcd, who works with him at his photography studio, asked me in early June if I wouldn't mind lending a hand for the grand opening event.  I of course said... of course...?  What I didn't know at the time was that it would lead to something else I could cross off my merry little list of Golden Things, but alas it did and here goes another blog toward my commitment:

#12 Hit the Runway; walk in a fashion show.

Earlier this spring when I tagged along with @markstyleme to a photo shoot I was able to "model" and get paid for it, so the natural progression of that would be to storm the runway, right?  Maybe in a pair of heels, maybe not.  Ended up being a resounding "not" but I'm cool with that.  @caitcd contacted me to let me know that Ash&Ember would be having a grand opening at the end of June (yes I know I am writing this in July, back off already!) and it would incorporate photography, video, and fashion in a multi-media filled night of fun and frollicking.  I added those last two verbs on my own, natch.

June kind of pranced by quickly as it tends to do and before I knew it the time had come for me to enjoy two days off of work that weren't REALLY two days off, as they were spent working for the studio.  On the 28th, @caitcd and I joined Ryan and a few others at Atomic Katz in Oshkosh, a fun vintage clothing store that was supplying some of the clothing for the fashion show.  Ryan had dubbed the evening "A Fashion Frenzy," so a specific theme needed to be adhered to.  Not too strictly so as to exclude the fun pieces (like the crazy 80's pants we picked out for @markstyleme to wear,) but mostly for the sake of the outfits fitting into the songs they were chosen for.  The first section of the show was Americana inspired, so that was fun in particular for me to pick clothes out for because I love classic American.  It ended up being a little skewed but most of the outfits were fairly iconic.  I myself got to wear an awesome cognag leather jacket and a navy blue fisherman's sweater from another store up in Green Bay called Beselli.  The second portion of the show was "Dream," and dealt with more eclectic and funky pieces.

Boy these blogs start getting dry, don't they?  I need something to bitch about again!  Anyway, keep reading, there'll be a treat later.

Okay, so we spent a good chunk of that day pulling outfits.  We goofed around a lot and joked a lot, and that was really great because it kept the mood light.  There was a lot of tension because there was a lot riding on this.  A couple hours spent in Oshkosh, lunch in Green bay and then a couple more hours pulling there.  Then we move on to the 29th and the day of the show.

I drove over to pick up @markstyleme from work around 1:30 and then together the two of us scooted on over to the studio in Menasha.  @markstyleme was one of four gents walking in the show, myself included, and there were about 15-ish or so girls walking in it as well.  Most of them were under 18, so that made for GREAT jokes throughout the day about innocence... and how the gays corrupt it.  Represent!

Immediately @markstyleme and I jumped into action organizing the runway show.  @sleetyboots, a FABULOUS friend and another Ash&Ember employee had done a great job of organizing the outfits into the six songs that would be playing, so all we had to do was put the outfits in order within those songs.  The work didn't stop there.  We had to start putting the outfits together, some of which didn't have any sort of bottom to be worn as well.  So @markstyleme and I started grabbing these girls (kids, somewhat) and grilling them on additional pieces of clothing and shoes they brought.  Who could wear what and when?  Who was walking too many times in a particular section of the show?  Who was old enough to wear a black bra under a transparent red top?  Were the time allowances for changing costumes enough?  All these things and MORE!  Oh my.

We put together a board of photos (seen above) that would end up being the "Go-To" for the rest of the show.  Every outfit, what shoes were to be worn, accessories with it, etc.  Then we had to train these kids on how to walk on the runway.  How to pose for the camera at the end of it.  All the while they are getting their hair styled, makeup applied, and the clock is winding down to our 7pm opening of the doors.

It was a very stressful 5+ hours of prep work, on a day that was hotter than shit and with the airconditioning in the studio not really doing a satisfactory job.  We were still forcing the girls up and down the runway when the doors opened and the obligatory early birds started pouring in.  So it was off to the backstage area where the dressing began.  We had an hour of final prep before Ryan went out and gave a sort of commencement speech to the crowd.  it was followed with a music-video he had made for the evening, and then the show started.

I can't really tell you how stressful and CRAZY it is backstage at a fashion show, at least one not held in New York by people that have been running them for years.  It was chaos for us.  I saw 17 year-old girls in bras and panties, tearing through the room to get changed in time.  I realized what it felt like to have sweat dripping from every pour on your body, worrying about the makeup on my face, and all the while putting on clothes that are loaned out and that I don't own.  Enjoy having my DNA on them, Atomic Katz and Besselli!  When it was time for me to walk the runway, I did it with a face of stone the first two trips down (refer to the above.)  Then I found out no one else was taking it as seriously as I was and I suddenly couldn't stop laughing during the second act of the show (refer to the below.)

The runway was a blur... it was a fairly surreal experience to have that many people looking at you at once.  Judging you (I would have been.)  Sexing you up (again, I would have been.)  You walk, hit your mark and turn, then walk again.  You get to the end of the runway, pose (somewhat, I sucked,) and turn and leave.  I remember hearing the cheers and screams, some of them from my friends that were spackled throughout the room.  When the lights dimmed and the show was over, I had a few moments to change my clothes and run out to the floor.  A lot of people had left pretty quickly but my friends remained.  I greeted them, soaked with sweat, and noticed the looks coming from the people I didn't know.

Common folk, you know.

That's when they started telling me I got the loudest cheers, to which I shrugged and said no I didn't.  And then other people told me and I couldn't help but blush (I maintain the cheers were because I was like a man-wall coming down the runway.)  And @caitcd was there and said my parents had come, which almost got me to cry because I hadn't expected them to make it and didn't make a huge deal out of the event to get them to come.  But they did... and it meant a great deal to me.  Made my night, actually.  So whatever, we took some pictures, popped champagne to celebrate, and the night was over.  With it, another item on my list of 26 Golden Things was over as well:

#12 Hit the Runway; walk in a fashion show.

Oh hey, wait, one more thing.  I very briefly mentioned in the last blog that I have been working on a video project.  The full details will wait until the end of the year, but suffice to say, I have been cataloguing everything.  My next blog post will likely include a short trailer for the video, but until then, enjoy a snippet from the finished product.  This one of course documenting the fashion show.  A very special thanks goes out to my lady Mo for taking the camera and filming the whole thing at the last minute.  Loves you!  Also a shout out to Anagen Eleven (Chris and Jess) for the fantastic hair and makeup!

Ciao, kiddos (c:

current days, re: daze

I don't like making excuses for myself as to why it sometimes takes me so long to write blogs, but I would like to take this opportunity to say that these "26 Golden Things" are KILLING me!  Yikes!  I achieve one and then start creating a blog and it almost turns itself into a roadblock for my creativity.  Gonna take a lot of determination to get through the remaining 15 but I'll do my best!

Incidentally, this blog has nothing to do with the 26 Things.  Wha-what!

I'm just writing to write tonight, for no rhyme or reason.  Which feels oddly foreign but I figured what the hell, I have it inside me right now so I might as well get it over with.  (Insert "that's what she said joke" here.)  I don't really have anything groundbreaking to talk about, but me being me, I'll talk anyway.

So I've been working at the Barn (refer to previous blogs if that title confuses you) for just under a month now, and I am pleased to report that it is going great.  Initially when I accepted the job I was a little afraid for a few reasons, one of them being the fear that I wasn't just burnt out on Express but that I was burnt out on retail in general.  Some people LOVE it and make a career out of it, and for a long time I did love it but that time had ended and I was left a little unsure.  In all honesty that first week at the Barn was terrifying because of everything that comes with a new job.

Of course you have the new people, the new registers, and the new return policy.  But what I had neglected to realize was that it would be an entirely new world all-together.  Understanding clothing and the ins-and-outs of your job after 8 years becomes second nature; being thrust into furniture and a new position is less than second nature, it's like... alien nature.  I'm so clever.  That first week was just hell because I kept thinking "Oh God, did I make the right choice?  Should I have left Express?  This is too hard."  I couldn't answer any customer questions.  I couldn't accurately ring a transaction without looking at the buttons I was pressing.  I couldn't explain the detailed return process and feel comfortable declining someone.  Most importantly, I didn't know shit about the product I was trying to sell.   Then I had to take a step back and ask WWJD?

That's not true.

But I did step back and remind myself that learning those things at Express took a large amount of time and that no one expected me to catch on to a whole new selling culture in a matter of hours.  Maybe days, but certainly not hours.  Needless to say I AM catching on and things are getting easier by the day.  At first I felt like I was going to be bored walking around a smaller store all day, but on the contrary I am fairly busy.  busy and calm, and that's amazing.  And I am learning all kinds of fantastic things.

Aaaaaaaaaaand I don't have to size clothes anymore.  Huzzah!

In other news I bought an iMac just over a week ago, making the official leap from PC to Mac and being pleasantly surprised at the ease of doing so.  I'm still learning (getting tired of all this learning) how to run the operating system, but I'm getting it, quickly and surely.  I started dicking around with iMovie tonight on the video project I have been working on all year (and will continue to do so) and I got super excited with the 30 seconds I can already watch.  I sound very simple in this blog post.  Note to self; work on sounding smarter-er.

What else what else... OH!  I went to my storage unit after work today.  (If you can't tell I'm really scraping the barrel for topics of discussion right now.)  Initially I went to remind myself visually of what all I own in terms of dishes and glasses, but then realized I hadn't been there since January.  Then I panicked because when it was raining like a cheap hooker last month a bunch of places were flooding and MAYBE my stuff was damaged.  I was happy to see it hadn't been upon my arrival, but there was a large amount of mouse poopies on my couch which made me cringe.  I ended up spending just over two hours going through boxes and rearranging them to make more space in the unit.

Only came across one or two things involving the dreaded-ex and I attacked them with an "OH MY GOD KILL IT!" method.  That letter he wrote me and those pictures didn't stand a CHANCE!

I feel like I wasted your time with this but I also feel like I needed to just talk to clear out the residual thoughts of the last month before moving on into the second half of this year.  Several exciting things are on the way and I can't wait to share them with everyone (c:

Enjoy a good song in appology for not broadening your inner eye with my blog.  Ciao kids!

a tidy conclusion

My book... a topic I am always willing to discuss but rarely have the ability to describe.  Did you know it is actually a profession for someone to read a book and then write the synopsis for the back cover?  The inside cover too, I suppose.  In fact if you watch "Forces of Nature" (you aren't missing anything if you've never seen it,) that's what Ben Affleck's character does for a living.  But for the sake of my reader's I will try to accurately describe the plot of the first book.  And the second book.  And... wait for it... the third book!

I'm writing this blog today to announce the completion of the original trilogy of books I started writing 12 years ago this August.  It's funny to look back and realize it has taken me that long, but I suppose the evidence is incontrovertible.  I have DOZENS of versions of the first book, ranging from the very very first to the absolute final incarnation.  The second book, there are four versions.  And for the third there is just the one.  I suppose that goes to show how you evolve as a writer and get a little bit better with each passing year.  Of course, completing the third also allows me to cross something else off my list of 26 Golden Things.  Reader behold!

#11 - A Tidy Conclusion; finish writing my third novel.

Picture this: Sean Parker, age 14, has just graduated from the 8th grade at James Madison Middle School in Appleton, WI.  It is the summer of 2000, and he is kind of fat.  That last part isn't true, actually, because he was always big boned and had started going through a growth spurt that summer, so to categorize him as FAT would be an overstatement (and should wait until January 2001 when he did get fat.)  See?

                                                                                 June 2000

Okay, anyway, that's me when those days of hell were over, with my friend (best/only (I was a loser (really)) @klreynol on 8th grade graduation night.  Growing up I had always had a pretty avid imagination.  From playing games with my siblings and the other neighbor kids growing up in California (the make-believe kind of "I'm the Pink Ranger and you guys are blah-blah and blah,") to writing short stories and poems that, looking back on them, were pretty fucking creepy.  I'll post one sometime.

The summer after 8th Grade was a boring one but one filled with a lot of apprehension for what my Freshman year of High School would bring.  @klreynol and I were taking her dogs for a walk and started daydreaming out loud as to what things would be like when we were adults.  I.E., living in Southern California in a beach house and working as marine biologists somewhere.

Truthfully.

We started talking about what it would be like if we had "powers," and that maybe we should write stories about it.  Together we returned to her house and started poking through a book of baby names, looking for some that we loved and would represent us in the written world we were about to create.  I chose the name Banning Sol, and @klreynol chose Bryna Shaw.

We each had a red notebook, though I can't exactly recall what type.  I think they were Mead, and maybe @klreynol's had a spiral on it but I know mine didn't.  Sidetrack, sorry.  We had taped some pictures to the front covers as well, because we were cool like that.  Immediately we were writing ESSENTIALLY the same story but told from opposite points of view.

Banning Sol and Bryna Shaw were best friends and lived in a beach house in Los Angeles.  They had telekinetic powers, worked at a Sea Worldesque aquarium, and employed some sort of witchcraft/spells to get through the day.  They get confronted by a villain named Damien and fight him wearing black-leather uniforms (X-Men had just come out in theaters, gimme a break,) on a pier.  The end.  Oh yeah, they call themselves team X-Factor.  Again, X-Men had just come out.  When the stories were finished, we showed them to eachother.  We re-wrote them.  Showed them off again.

I would actually give anything to have my notebook again, but alas, it was lost sometime over the last 12 years.  Of course I still have the original version of the book, typed, and it is 13 pages long.  Once I typed it up on my old HP Pavillion, I decided it needed a name and from then on my book was called "The Originality."  Partly because I thought it was a cool title, and partly because I thought I made the word up.

Again, truthfully.

Over the next few months, as school started and childhood gradually ended, I rewrote "The Originality" a few more times.  I even gave it out as a Christmas present to some of my friends.  By then I had created a best friend for Banning named Matt and a love-interest named Sydney.  By January of 2001 the book took a vague shape of what it would eventually be... and then @klreynol and I stopped being friends.

In hindsight it was a silly fight, but it was a real one none-the-less and resulted in us not speaking for three years almost to the day.

In the interim I reworked the book.  Then I edited it.  Then I rewrote it.  Then I edited it.  Then I rewrote... you get the picture.  I moved it as far away from what it had been and toward what started to become something much larger, because I didn't want it to be joint collaboration anymore.  I created a world... a world that seemed real, with characters that had started to feel incredibly real.  Banning Sol and his best friend Matthew Jordan, living together in New York City in the year 2336.  After discovering a mysterious ring with the word "Onyxus" inscribed on the inner band, Banning moves alone to Quillsberg, SanAndrea, the island nation California became after the big earthquake in 2076.  He meets his love interest Sydney Becker and her best friend Bryna Shaw, feeling a connection to both girls immediately.  Banning eventually learns he is what is called a Koa, a gifted member of the human species that is being hunted down and destroyed by the bounty hunter Damien Fausteu.  I can go on.

The point I am trying to reach is that writing is an incredibly personal process, and when you get down to it, you start pouring your own blood into it.  I've said in the past that I feel like a schizophrenic when I write because these characters, particularly Bryna and Sydney and everyone NOT Banning (he's just me, slightly butched up,) are facets of me.  Pieces of my own personality that I am expanding and blowing up to give a life and an individual personality, and the creepy thing about that is that at the end of the day, they are all me.  So really as a writer you get to see allllll of the people living inside your head come out on the page.  Anywho.

When @klreynol and I resumed our friendship in 2004, I felt like an ass.  She knows it.  But the story still existed and I wanted her to read it.  And she did... several times.  She became my editor in every meaning of the word, learning the ins and outs of "The Originality" better than anyone else.  It didn't take long for me to realize I should dedicate the first book to her, and I followed through with it as you will see below.  Flashing forward a few years to 2009, I decided the time had come for one final rewrite of "The Originality."

                                                                                       April 2009

That picture above was from Katie and I spending SEVERAL hours pouring through the first book in the spring of 2009.  The board to the left is a break-down of every plot point through every chapter of the book.  To the right are the locations used, the names of every character, types of vehicles, etc.  It was back to formula to turn the book from something that wasn't entirely coherent into a story that was rock solid.  With that rewrite came a new title that would get rid of my own embarrassment and hint at something that actually had to do with the story.  Something that hinted at a larger world.

"The Onyxus Chronicles: Episode I" was born.

                                                                            The Onyxus Chronicles: Episode I dedication cover

My Bests can attest to the fact that I always aim to make people cry.  Not by being mean, but by being incredibly sweet or sentimental when they least expect it.  The running joke is that I collect their tears.  That being said, the biggest compliment I have gotten on Episode I is that it has illicited tears from all 13 people who have read it (save for one.  Shithead.)  I love that I wrote something that could have an affect like that... it makes me feel like I'm not the only person attached to these characters.

My favorite part of the first book?  I can't pick anything so I'm going to say it's the dialogue, especially that between Sydney and Bryna.  Not to toot my own horn more than I already have, but I can create a moment between characters like you wouldn't fuckin' believe!  Finale page tally: 568.

So we move on to Episode II.

I neglected to mention that originally there was a very short treatment for a continuation of the adventures.  Banning and Bryna board a plane to Hawaii and the plane ends up crashing, and I don't really remember what else but it ended with a bunch of people dying and the characters wind are stranded on a strange island called "Myth."  I never got much farther than that.

Over the years I had tinkered and toyed with Episode II and what it entailed.  I think I always had a much more grand view of what it would be and it never ended up being that.  At first the book revolved around mermaids and elves and fairies, along with a human protagonist named Themis and a goblin king named Seklu Drow that SEEMED like he could be the "misunderstood bad guy" but ended up just being a dick with no motive.  When I finished the rewrite of the first book I "rewrote" Episode II and then passed it off to @klreynol to edit.  Having never read it at all before, she... liked it?  A little?  But while she may have enjoyed the continuation of the story, there were a SHIT TON of problems she found with it.

Chief among them: people could teleport by clapping their hands.  Looking back on that I still laugh.

                                           Paolo helping with the editing process.  In his special way.

When my relationship with the dreaded ex started to crumble, I turned a harsher eye on my work and decided I would give it the "final rewrite" treatment that I attacked Episode I with.  And it worked.  I threw every criticism @klreynol offered at the story and removed the silliness of it to paint it with a much darker shade.  I made my villains into actual villains and in the process I allowed the story to evolve into something so much greater.  I blush and wave my hands away at any compliments I receive on the book, but really I am incredibly proud of the lore I have started to create.  You know it's decent when the people you allow to start reading it begin to agree.

The island "Myth" became "Dagrún."  The elves became the ailill; the mermaids became the enki.  The fairies the tien, the goblins the usha, and the humans the manu.  They were given purpose.  They were given motives.  Above all, they were given personalities.  And while a few characters from Episode I are largely not included in Episode II, two new characters have taken the empty spaces at Banning's sides; Tristan and Saphrinity Nargos, the ailill siblings.

I didn't realize it at the time but Tristan would wind up becoming my favorite character that I have written.

So I finished Episode II officially in August of 2011.  Signed, sealed, and dedicated to another of my bests, @markstyleme.  He had gone through a lot with me during the construction of the novel and to me it only made sense to dedicate it to him.  Granted, he has yet to finish reading it almost a full year later (ahem.)  The reason behind the dedication line cane be found on my Facebook page for anyone so inclined, in the album from his birthday.

                                                                    The Onyxus Chronicles: Episode II dedication cover

Only a couple people have read this addition to my series and the response has been fairly positive.  There are some errors... not really errors, but areas of improvement.  Until I get them hammered out I am a little wary of allowing people to read it as I would only want to present my material in the best possible way.  I hope the few (two... maybe one) of you dying to read this can be patient just a smidgen longer!

My favorite part of the second book though?  The fight between Banning and the Manika (big fucking monster/dragon/thing) in the final chapter.  Holy shit, I don't think I will ever top this one as it gets bigger and bigger until a FANTASTIC climactic moment.  DEFINITELY the best 18 pages I've ever written!  I can't wait to see it turned into a movie.  Final page tally: 604.

With all of that done, there was only one thing left to do.  Create Episode III... the problem child I had been neglecting.  Here's the thing with Episode III: it never existed as a story.  It was the afterthought to the first two books; the way I would "probably" end everything.  In September of 2007 I wrote a five page treatment of the ending of the trilogy, almost like a "hyper real" version of what could happen.  Everyone that died, what Banning has gone through, etc. etc., all condensed to those short pages that I could keep as a goal.  Episode III consisted of a few pages of notes, a bunch of movie quotes that would shape my thought process, and that was it.  Really.

Not a month had passed after finishing Episode II that I began construction on the new book.  I couldn't stop myself, I wanted to get rolling on it so bad.

                       Editing time at the ALWAYS accommodating and incredible Wisconsin Ave. Starbucks.

This book was going to be different seeing as it was starting from scratch.  I started with an outline (for the first time) and filled it out extensively.  That took a while.  I chose the plot points and struggled a great deal with the  reasonings behind some of those plot points.  Why was THIS character doing THAT to the OTHER character?  Parts of these choices I am still piecing together.

The funny thing about writing from scratch is that you have no influence AT ALL as to what it is you are going to create.  Everytime I rewrote one of the other books I had to follow a certain path because things had to lay themselves out in a certain way.  A before B and then can come C.  But with a new book I was able to just... let my fingers fly.  And when I sent @klreynol the first few chapters just before Christmas when I took a writing break, she had a reaction to it that surprised me.

She said it was the best work I had ever written.

So with that in mind, when spring rolled around and I got to working on the book again, I did so with this weird determination that I hadn't felt before.  I actually cried a couple times while writing scenes that were in NO way sad because they were scenes that I needed to pump out in order to keep the story moving and they were scenes that made me bored.

I think I just shot my book in the proverbial foot, lol.

I don't mean boring in the way you might think; they were scenes that would link together the OTHER scenes, the ones I wanted to get to but didn't know how.  They had to be the "Why?" behind the "WOW!"  Episode III takes place on another world that obviously doesn't exist, and creating that from the ground up was incredibly daunting and at most times, a nightmare.  But I did it.  And I wrote it.  And I cried a lot when I got to the end and I cried a lot when I edited, because in all ways possible... this was the end of a journey it took me 12 years to complete.  If you're laughing at that, tell me the biggest thing you've ever accomplished and we'll compare notes.

When trying to decide who to dedicate this book to, it became obvious that it shouldn't be dedicated to a person at all but to a thing.  No one forced me to write this, no one caused me to write this... I did it for myself.  I pushed myself to finish it for a "thing" that has started to shape and define me, as I 've referenced in previous blogs, and that being the Golden Year.  It was only fitting to acknowledge this achievement with the year it was attained in.

                                                                        The Onyxus Chronicles: Episode III dedication cover

There are plenty of issues with this book and seeing as it is only in the "first draft" stages, there will likely be many changes.  But I am pleased with it... it feels whole.  The novel wraps up the story lines I set in motion years ago and does so in a satisfying way.  I'm sure once I've taken a step away from it to breathe a bit, I can approach the story with fresh eyes and add to it a bit more in the way only I know how to, "beefing it up."

I only ever set out to write three books in this series.  Banning Sol always had a beginning, a middle, and an end.  The people that came throughout were sometimes killed, sometimes immortalized, and sometimes left alone to be one of the few survivors.  I managed to tie up all of my loose ends and I did it in a way that didn't compromise my messages.  If the first book is about letting go of what you cannot control and the second book is about coming to terms with the things that have happened, then the third book is about forgiving.  Not only forgiving those who have done you wrong but forgiving yourself as well.  I feel that's something everyone can learn from... and that's how we come back around to #11 on my list of 26 Golden Things.

#11 - A Tidy Conclusion; finish writing my third novel.

Oh, and my favorite part of Episode III? The final pages where you, the reader, figure out the story doesn't end with Episode III.  Current page tally: 434.

Goodnight kiddies (c:

an old door closes

I've always found it slightly funny... humorous, I should say, in how we measure time.  Or how I measure time, as it were.  I have a very strong memory simply because I correlate it to events in my life.  I saw Men In Black with my parents in the summer of 1997 on my brother's birthday, and he was pissed because he and my sister went to see Hercules instead and wanted us all together.  The last thing I ate before the shit hit the fan with my gallbladder was Swedish Fish in August of 1998, right before my dad and I went to see Godzilla at the Valley Fair Theater.  And I still won't touch them.  On September 1st, 2004, I had my first job interview for Express with Mr. Matt, in the corridor outside Pottery Barn in the Fox River Mall.

What's funny is that the ensuing 7 years and 9 months went by in such a blur that today, when they have officially come to a close, I can only remember the best parts.  The happiest moments.  I suppose that's the great thing about relationships that come to an amicable close (because really, this has been a relationship.)  In the end, when both parties are ready to say goodbye, you reminisce on the best times and ignore all of the worst.  That being said, I am writing this post due to the completion of another item on my list of 26 Golden Things.  Ladies and germs, behold:

#10 - An Old Door Closes; walking away from Express.

 June 1st, 2012

I spent the summer after my senior year of high school working at American Eagle.  I'm pretty sure they liked me there, but the proof doesn't really exist.  I think I was one of "those" associates, i.e. the kind that I utterly loathe now.  Flippant, called in a lot, fucked around while I was there.  It didn't really come as a surprise when the summer season wound down that I was told I was there JUST for summer and needed to find a new job.  Poopy.  So I went straight to Express, where I had purchased a couple awesome pairs of jeans (the Interstate Rebel, represent!) and knew they were hiring.  The guy who conducted the interview was Matt, the co-manager at that time and  after a long time, my store manager.  We'll get to that.

My first day of work was September 18th, 2004.  Back then you had to wear dress clothes to Express, because the company was in the "Design Studio" phase that required a much more... classy approach to the associate projection.  I wore black Producer pants, a bright red 1MX shirt, and a black tie.  You had to have three pieces on at all times.  It was an okay first shift, I remember being really tired at the end because I couldn't sit down at all during it.  That's because I was (am) a lazy ass.  Quickly the month wrapped and then we were somersaulting into the holiday season and everything became a blur.  Flash forward to the summer of 2005 when I briefly left Express to work full-time at a call center (worst career move EVER) for a better pay rate.

That November, I strolled casually into the store one night and discovered they were getting ready to have a holiday launch meeting.  The district manager, Julie, was there that night and the store manager Heather asked me to come into the backroom, where they proceeded to offer me a full-time position as the stockroom manager.  At that point I was miserable at the call center because, quite frankly, it was a bull shit job; I had been working at Express once a month for floorsets.  So I accepted the job and came back, working solely in the backroom processing shipment and loving every moment of it.

I had vacation time!  I was making more money than I ever had in my life!  And never would again until 2011!

 September 2006

2006 was a fast year, and it ended with an ugly accusation from the evil bitch-troll-from-hell store manager (Heather was gone by then) about me that caused me to leave the company.  Being accused of theft sucks, especially when you have to talk about it for over an hour with a TERRIFYING loss prevention man on the phone.  I was acquitted, because it wasn't me at all, but the damage had been done.  That snake woman was a horrible boss and she succeeded in getting me to leave.  Aldo Shoes came for me at that point, offering me the Assistant Manager title and a glossy raise.  I shouldn't have taken it but I did.  So I wrapped up some loose ends and parted ways with Express on December 1st, 2006.

 December 2006

Aldo only lasted a few months.  In hindsight, I wasn't ready at all to become a manager of any kind let alone an assistant.  The company itself was an absolute nightmare but I had a blast working with @jeffywitt, an old Express friend who had gotten me the position.  When he left Aldo in the spring of 2007, I followed suit and returned to Express with my tail between my legs.  I actually took a month off, because I could, before going back to work.  Then we dive into the meat of my tenure.

I came back to the store at Fox River making just more than minimum wage, so probably around $7.15 at the time.  About $5 an hour less than my previous position with the company, yech.  I did my time though and was thankful to have any money at all coming to me, so I kept my mouth shut.  Something had changed with me while I was at Aldo; though I had not been READY to become a manager, I had indeed become one and learned a thing or two.  That was suddenly quite apparent.  I had gone from child to MAN!  Huzzah!  Cue the fanfare!

By the end of summer 2007 the management team (save for that evil bitch-troll-from-hell store manager (now referred to as EBTFH)) was rallying behind me to get me promoted to a part-time sales lead.  In most other stores, this is referred to as a key holder position, but Express takes it a step further and holds them accountable for sales.  Makes them feel more part of the team in a way I suppose.  I got the job, nailed the interview, and things were good.  I slid into the "Brand" role, which means I had a heavy hand in store visuals.  I had always been more inclined to that job and it ended up being something that would pave the way for the future.

 February 2008

The above shot was taken on my first business trip, down to Brookfield Square in Milwaukee to relocate the store to a temporary spot while the old one was remodeled.  Those mannequins obviously had weiners.  I thought it/I was hysterical.

I should also mention that in the spring of 2008, a couple months after that picture was taken (coincidentally a couple days after I had gone BACK to Brookfield to set up the newly remodeled store,) that EBTFH got her ass fired.  I'd say I had nothing to do with it, but... ::tapping the side of my nose and winking:: I won't.  Not a lot happened over the next few years to follow all of that.  In the fall of 2008 I was promoted to full-time sales lead, still making less money than I had been as the stock manager but whatever.  I did my time.  If there was one thing I had learned from Express over the years it was that you were never just handed anything you had to earn it.

In the fall of 2009, @kochs18 from the Green Bay store at Bay Park Square came down to our happy little store in Appleton and turned that shit on its head... not to mention, he turned me on my head.  He opened my eyes.  Within months I had changed, turning from what I was into what I would eventually be.  I became responsible for things at work, taking the initiative to just do things myself when it was apparent no one else was going to do them.  I learned how to coach my team successfully.  I learned how to run the sales floor efficiently.  I am indebted to him for a lot of what I learned, as he was the first person that really slammed it into my head where it stuck.  So @kochs18, if you're reading this, thank you.

By the time the holiday season 2010 rolled around I was essentially an assistant manager.  Not technically, because our store hadn't earned a second co-manager (same thing) title, but essentially.  The logical procession was that I would get the title when it opened up, and in April of 2011 it did.  And I got it.

However, co-manager came with a catch... and then things started to turn again.

 April 2011

The above picture was with @shizzauna on my last day at Store #114 Fox River.  My last day because in order to attain co-manager status I had to transfer to Store #621 Bay Park Square, in Green Bay, and the co-manager up there had to transfer to Fox River.  I was heart broken.  (Trying not to deviate too far from the topic, I had been out of my relationship with the dreaded-ex for a month at that point and still living in my duplex in Wrightstown.)  The only thing I wanted in my life was familiarity and that was what the store offered... because in nearly seven years (at that point) it had become a home to me.  Whenever the guy came for preventative maintenance, I was the one who walked the store with him to point out everything that was broken.  Me, because I knew it better than anyone else.

I of course accepted the position, and the subsequent relocation.  And it doesn't matter anymore to reveal to the mass public (all five of you reading this) how devastated I was.  I think if I could do it all over again, I would have refused.  Either the co-manager title or the store... I'm not sure.  But I would have refused because it's all the same.

 July 2011

It wasn't all bad, admittedly.  I was coming into a team that had some very talented people and I was also increasing my knowledge while doing so.  The reason for the transfer was because the powers that be felt it would be prudent for me to be the ONLY co-manager, rather than one of two.  That way I wouldn't be pushing any responsibility to another person but dealing with it myself.  Which does make sense.  And I would be working with Mr. Matt again, my hire-er and former co-worker, who had become the store manager of Bay Park when  @kochs18  came to Fox River.  I hope you're still with me.

The picture above was from the only time I was able to go back to Fox River, in July of 2011, to cover for the day.  That's Christine, who has since become a fantastic manager in her own right.  What was remarkable was that having worked there for nearly seven years and been gone a mere three months... everything felt foreign.  It wasn't my home anymore and that killed me.  I don't know why I get so sentimental with some of these things but I do, and that's the way it goes.  So deal with it!

 August 2011

My Robert Pattinson hair, thanks Chrusty B. for taking this.  I guess you could say that I came into my own at Bay Park.  It was great being the only co-manager, for exactly the reasons they described.  As Matt's right hand it made me feel like I was more important.  Like I was more of a leader.  For the most part I had a great time at that store, even if the mall itself was (is) a dump.  Ask anyone and they'll agree on that bit.

 October 2011

That jacket was fierce.  Nothing to note between summer of 2011 and spring 2012, really.  After the holiday season I started to grow weary of Express.  The constant changes that I had learned to deal with, the constant pressure to be better all the time.  It was like being the child of a pageant mom.  "SMILE!  BIG TEETH!  SHOW ME YOUR PURDY FACE!  NOW DANCE LIKE WE PRACTICED!"  And for all of the training... for all of the shit I had shoveled and the trials and tribulations I had forced myself though... I was done.

 April 2012

This came along one day in pack-up, the recognition award I had been waiting for for such a long time.  It broke my heart to look at it and feel like it didn't mean much.  The five years was on there because it was for five consecutive years, my stint at Aldo having fucked up what could have been eight consecutive years.  Matt presented it to me with a note he had written, and I was happy.  Honestly, I was.  But there was that thought in the back of my mind that while yes, I had to earn everything I got with Express... this was it?  Just a pat... not even a pat... just some words... I don't know.  I don't know what I expected.  A parade, an awards ceremony, a dozen balloons held by a fat guy with a belly ring... something.

Two weeks later, Pottery Barn called.

And there were way too many ellipsis' in that paragraph... sorry.  Sorry again.

Giving my notice to Matt was difficult but something that had to be done.  He knew what I was doing while I was doing it, so it wasn't a surprise when the time came.  It was still hard.  Like I said at the beginning, leaving a company you've been with for nearly eight years (regardless of what that fucking picture says) is like a breakup.  The difference being that instead of one goodbye, you have several.  You say goodbye to the people who have shaped you.  You say goodbye to the people you yourself have shaped.  And for every tearful goodbye, there is another piece of the puzzle that finally sets itself down to the adhesive and doesn't ever get to move again.

Today was my last day with Express; June 1st, 2012.  It was also the most unlikely thing I would achieve on my list of 26 Golden Things this year.  I'm scared of the future and what it is going to bring.  I'm scared to leave this place that I know so well in the dust as I burn the proverbial rubber of my life's tires.  This company has brought so much into my life, from people to experiences.  Birthday celebrations that lasted all night long and road trips that were filled with amazing conversations.  Beautiful weddings that were awe-inspiring and sadly a funeral for a life that ended too soon.  It shaped me from an 18 year-old brat into a 26 year-old brat.  Maybe with better taste now than he did back then.  Not sure what else.

Express has introduced me to people that I will keep with me forever; @shizzauna, @jeffywit, @trishizzle, @kochs18, @emilylau22, @corkalynn, @jessicafritz, Mr. Matt, ChaCha, Joyful, Chrusty B., Miss Kayla, Samwise, and a million others that I know I am forgetting and I'm sorry for doing so.  Most importantly it brought me to two of my bests, Mrs. S and @markstyleme, without whom I would not be the same.

 June 1st, 2012

I think the best way to round all of this out is to end it where it began.  With Mr. Matt.  Where @kochs18 "showed me the light," Mr. Matt allowed me to channel it and focus it into something cohesive.  Something tangible.  I learned the essentials at Fox River and honed my skills at Bay Park, and because of that I am able to enter Pottery Barn as someone who knows what the hell they are doing.  I find it fitting that Mr. Matt hired me, was there with me when I left the first time and will be there to take my store keys back at the end of my last day, ushering me toward the future.  It makes me sad, and in fact right now it makes me cry, but I know that the time has come for it to be over and for me to move on.

Sometimes I wish I didn't have to be the grown up in situations like these... breakups and what not.  But that's the role I am meant to play for now.  And it's certainly better to be the one to leave than to get your ass fired.  Ladies, am I right?  I'm going to miss my Express family so incredibly much but I know that for most of them, it isn't goodbye forever.  I would never want it to be goodbye forever.

But it is certainly #10 on my list of Golden Things; an old door finally closing.

Much love to all of you.