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.

opening a door

Today I burned the fuck out of my right arm sitting on the patio at Solea with @klreynol drinking margaritas.  Wanted to get that out of the way.

Hey everybody!  And by everybody I mean everybody because it seems the amount of people reading these dandy-doodle blogs has jumped very quickly, to which I say "thank you" for whoever shared my last blog.  Unless no one did, in which case... okay.  In all seriousness though, thank you; my blog views that have been tracked in May alone are more than April, March and February combined.  I'll try to make these a little more entertaining, but with this guy ::points at self:: you never know.

It occurred to me this evening that as of late, I have been posting somewhat cryptic status updates on Facebook in regards to the future of my career with Express.  Obviously I am leaving the company, but the how and why are a mystery to most of you.  The reason behind that is because me being me, I wanted to compose a blog entry about where I will be going.  And of course, being my Golden year, this was indeed one of my 26 Golden Things.  It was the first item added to my list at the beginning of the year, and the least likely to actually occur.  But it has (or will, June 4th,) and I couldn't be more excited to move it up 17 spots on said list.  Let's get on with the deets.

#9 - Opening a Door; land a new job.

Obviously this topic will be two separate blogs (maybe not obviously,) but the other will be written/posted June 2nd and that will have to do entirely with Express and what it has done to me.  Done for me.  Done... with me, perhaps?  You get the picture.  So this will deal entirely with the new company I will call a home and the direction my life is about to swing in.  Needless to say, I will focus on the the new company in this post and less on the "why" I am doing it.  Here we go.

Towards the end of March, Mrs. S (she's been referred to before (I know these names can be way too vague)) contacted me and said that Pottery Barn in the Fox River Mall was interested in talking with me about possibly interviewing for a position with them as an assistant manager.  After debating it VERY briefly, I told her I was not interested.  After all, reviews were coming up at Express and I was feeling pretty good about myself.  Remind me to touch back on that in the next blog.

Ahem.

So we flash forward to the beginning of May, when I had forgotten about Pottery Barn (heretofore referred to simply as "The Barn") and the escape it could provide.  I get a phone call on my cell phone from a stranger number, so naturally I don't answer it and let it go to voice mail.  Yes, I'm one of those people.  I listened to the message right away and it was from a woman named Courtney who was/is the store manager at The Barn.  She had gotten my name AND phone number from my former landlord in Wrightstown, Brenda.  Brenda recommended me for the position and said a few other nice things, and Courtney just wanted to sit down and talk to see if I was interested.  By that point in time, I was.

Of course when the time came the following week to actually sit down and interview, I was fairly collected.  The last time I had interviewed for a job was years ago when I left Express briefly for a failed stint as the assistant manager at Aldo in the Fox River Mall ::shudders::  That interview had been a nightmare because I had NO idea what I was doing, how I would possibly succeed at faking my answers (playing off "stock room manager" as something akin to a "sales floor manager" is pointless, FYI.)  Come to think of it I also interviewed for assistant manager at Lovesac when it was opening in Appleton, but we all know what happened to that place.

It closed... if we don't all know.  Don't wanna assume anything.

So anyway I was fairly collected when I strolled into The Barn that Wednesday and met with Courtney and the district manager Suzanne.  I think a large part of my cool demeanor was simply due to the fact that I held a tenured position with Express, was not currently at risk of losing said job, and the position was salary based so there was no pressure riding on me fucking something up.

That, and the fact that I Knew. My.  Shit.

We sat in some chairs in the mall corridor and the questions started flying, and each one that was lobbed to me was subsequently knocked back over the net.  That isn't to say the questions were easy, because they weren't, but Express is notorious for setting a very high bar when it comes to training its managers and I had been through all of the training.  Each and every time it had come around (they like to throw a lot of curve balls at Express to keep growing the talent in the team.  After 8 years... I have lots of talent.)  I was charming during the interview, I smiled a lot and showed off my dimples.  About mid-way through was when I realized that this was a job I was actually going to want.  I have a problem with approaching things that could be SLIGHTLY out of my reach, and when I decide I really want them I become paranoid.

Even though the interview went very well, I indeed left it feeling paranoid.  What if I wasn't good enough?  What if my answers weren't spot on the way they should have been?  What if my bright blue eyes and flashing smile DIDN'T work the way they were supposed to!?  Jumping forward a week through some phone interviews, a surprise visit to my store, and wonderful references from the people I had carefully listed on my application, I received a phone call from Courtney asking if we could meet for coffee.  (You'd get bored with the details we jet-railed over, trust me.)

By this point I was a little annoyed because the process had been longer than I anticipated and fairly arduous.  I felt for the position of assistant manager, it was a lot of hoops to jump through.  I met with Courtney at Starbucks and sat down at a table she occupied... with a folder in front of her.  Good sign.  We chit chatted for a few minutes before Courtney said these fantastic words to me:

"So I'm very excited to meet with you today."
"Oh are you?" I replied with a deep smile and probably a blush.
"Mmmhmm, you probably know why."
"Well I try not to assume," I chuckled.
"I'd like to offer you the position of associate retail manager with us."  (PS, that's assistant manager to you, the general public.)

So I squealed (no I didn't) and danced (no I didn't) and then covered my face and laughed (yes I did.)  It was one of those moments in life where you realize what you've been toiling at, working at, and beating your brains out over has finally culminated in a single moment of chance.  Chance that I had an amazing Best in Mrs. S with the highest connections of anyone I know.  Chance that my failed relationship with the dreaded-ex had inadvertently introduced me to a landlord who would go on to talk me up as a great worker and then drop my phone number to her boss.  Chance that a job in the field I had always been interested in (interior design) would essentially fall into my lap and that I would be capable of tackling it with ease.

I accepted the position with The Barn (re: Pottery Barn,) without even thinking.  It was a no-brainer.  Back in Appleton and away from that shit-hole Green Bay (no offense if you live there, natch)?  A substantial pay increase to a level of income that would grant me the ability to move out on my own without a problem?  More paid time off and a competitive discount?  I'd be stupid not to!  The reason it had taken so long is because they were looking at me to eventually become the general manager (the store manager, hey-o!)

I had been in contact with Matt (my boss at Express and long-time friend,) so he was aware of the situation the entire time.  The last thing I wanted was to catch him off guard with a surprise "I QUIT!"  He was great with the news, as were the rest of the people that it filtered toward.  Was I sad to tell them all I'd be leaving June 1st?  Of course.  I never WANTED to leave Express, but to stay would be to remain locked in place and not moving forward.  And this year was and still is all about moving my life forward.

So there you have it, #9 on my list of 26 Golden Things; opening a door.  I'm nervous to start a new job, meet a new team, and accept the responsibilities that come with it all.  Having been at Express for so long, most of that becomes second nature, so taking on a new challenge is incredibly daunting.  However, having been there and done that and shoveled a fair amount of shit in the process, I am ready to dive in to something new and fresh.

Look forward to a lot of happiness from me, your favorite self-proclaimed author.  Goodnight kiddos.

escaping my head

Hi.

I know lately I've been writing this to let everyone in on the wonderful things that I have been forcing through my life this year, but right now I am writing simply to write.  To sit back, extended my fingers, and stretch my mind.  How many of you know how to do that?  Stretch your mind?  It's not really a learned skill, but it is indeed a skill.  I guess it comes from not having a filter and hey, as most of you know, my mouth certainly lacks a filter times.  Most times, actually.

Earlier today it started to finally hit me what has happened this year.  It's been a lot in a surprisingly short amount of time.  I've chronicled it all through the blogs, but still... it's a surreal experience.  Buying a new car, finishing my third book, getting over an ex, giving out my number, finding a new job, leaving an old one, etc. etc.  Some of those have yet to be explained and believe me they will, but this blog isn't about them.  It's about getting out of my head.

Someone asked me the other day how I was handling all of it.  It's a big step to buy a new car... it's an even bigger step to quit the job you've had for several years to head off to a new company.  To some people, that's a lot.  To other people, that's too much.  I, being a champion for change, haven't thought too much about it.  But today I started realizing that (officially) I have crossed off 11 items from my list of 26 Golden Things.  11 big changes in five months from totally new experiences, and that's... something.  That's almost daunting.

Daunting for the sole reason that I have 14 things to go.

I'm not psyching myself out by any means because these are things I have wanted for a long time, but it does scare me in a particular way.  Why did it take me this long to get the ball rolling?  I've been upset for a long time with my job; I was upset with Bethel the Jeep for even longer.  I never acted on either of them.  I labeled 2012 as a special year, sure, but why does that grant me licence to change all of these things?  Things that happen to me or that I myself cause?

I found this quote/image a while ago and I saved it.  Sometimes I simply like the way these things sound at the time and when I come back to them a couple weeks or months later to re-read them, I discover they have taken on a new meaning.

I think the reason things are happening and changing for me is because I finally told my mind to just shut the fuck up.

Shut.  Up.

Wounds happen every day in our lives; physically and emotionally, they are constant.  Sometimes those wounds build up, add up, and eventually take hold.  What I love about that quote is that it is such a simple and true one; deep down you know what you need to do to get better.  On January 1st, 2012, when I made a prophecy for my golden year, I didn't realize what I was really doing.

It didn't feel like I was kicking off something so much larger than me.  It didn't feel like I was getting ready to embark on a journey that would end up making me a bigger personality and a better person that I had been before.  At the time it felt like a grand ambition, one of many that I had had before that would fade away in the dust.  I've sometimes had problems with the follow through on my little personal missions.  And that's the great thing about writing these blogs, these little love letters from me to the ether... the more you guys read them, the more it drives me forward.

Some people look at blog writing as a way to bitch and moan to the world, and they're right.  But it is also a pretty effective tool at keeping yourself honest.  For me personally, it keeps me honest.  I won't say I am going to do something in here unless I really mean to do it, because otherwise I am embarrassing myself by not living up to it.

I suppose as of now I have three blogs to write about new items for the list of 26 things.  If I can get two more things accomplished by the end of the month, I will be half way to my final goal.

I don't think that will happen, as May is kind of a bland month, but the summer will bring big opportunities and so will the new job I will be embarking on in just a couple weeks.  The only reason I wanted to write tonight was because after a failed attempt at sleep, I needed to vent my thoughts.  Otherwise they go round and round and I get annoyed.  And then the cat bites my knee through the bedsheets (no shit, she did it last night) and then I scream like a bitch and throw her off.

Rambling.  Okay, that's all I've got.  My hair look awful right now.  Goodnight gang.

PS, on a side note... feel free to share my blog with people.  With anyone, I don't care.  I'd love to have an audience that continues to grow.  Unless you think these are shit, and that's fine.  But then I would also wonder why you are still reading...

Maybe you're waiting for something...




like...





THIS!

Hahahaha, check out the fucking gap in my teeth.  Braces twice, ya'll!  Goodnight for reals (c:

a new partner

One month.  One whole month!  Since I wrote a blog, that is.  As I wrote that, I realized I actually posted one April 21st, but since I don't delete the stream of thoughts pouring out of my noggin I'll let you all see how big of a retard I really am.  Anywho.  So one month ago I got rid of Bethel (refer to that blog... two blogs ago) and couldn't of course NOT have a car to replace her.  After all, how would I get around?  That was the whole issue with her reliability (re: lack of) so I needed to choose well.  And choose well I did.  I'll let Matthew Broderick explain quickly before I dive in to this short(er(ish)) blog.

So there you have it, the all new 2012 Honda Cr-V.  And, would ya look at that, a new addition to my list of 26 Golden Things.  But that title won't come until the end, and don't you dare fucking look ahead.

The commercial aired during the Super Bowl this year and caught my attention, mostly because of him representing himself as Ferris Bueller.  I remember going to see James Bond: Casino Royal in 2006 with @MarkStyleMe and our friend Dustin for guys night, and before the movie started the pre-show had a commercial for the (back then) all new 2007 Cr-V.  The slogan came from having Cr-V transform into Crave.  Back then I thought "that's a pretty cool car," and the commercial stuck with me because everytime I saw one, I thought of it.  Oh hey, wait... I found the commercial.  I'LL POST IT!

Okay, I'll start taking this seriously now.  I had only ever test-driven cars, not SUV's.  I figured I drove the Jeep and had a good time, but I wanted something that was fuel efficient and sporty.  That was always kind of the search criteria.  I won't bore you with the years that passed between then and now, as you already know they were uneventful with Bethel.  Then came April 2012 and the hunt was on again.

I actually only test drove a couple cars.  The Kia Forte (boo,) the Kia Sportage (meh,) and the Honda Cr-V (ding-a-ling!)  I drove the lower end model of the Cr-V, the LX, and fell in love with it.  I was going to wait a bit before jumping in and buying but that didn't last long.  I test drove them all on a Friday and was driving one home eight days later the following Saturday (@klreynol came with on purchase day.)  The guy at the dealership in Appleton was nice but vague, and didn't really walk us through anything.  @MarkStyleMe and I had a good time lying to the folks we drove around with that day, portraying him as a different person each time.  It's just what we do.  With Kia he was a substitute math teacher in North Carolina, and with Honda his name was... Steve?  I can't remember, but the dealership guy didn't drive around with us so that personality never got a chance to shine like it did with Jody at Kia.

I started e-mailing the area Honda dealerships that week, pitting them against each other in a showdown to the DEATH!  Not really, but I did send annoying e-mails trying to haggle the price down on the EX (mid-line model,) because it had a bunch of features the LX was lacking.  Namely the sunroof.  I mean, hello!?  If I'm buying a brand new car I want to at least enjoy it for the 10+ years I'm probably going to be driving it into the ground!  Eventually I ended up with Bergstrom in Oshkosh and a really great guy named Matt (heyo!) who was fantastic to work with.  I went down for a test drive of the model I'd be buying, fell head over heels in love with it, and let him do the rest.  It was only after I left that first day that I realized the divine nature of why I was seemingly drawn to this car.  Let me explain something.

You all know I am cataloging a list of 26 new things to do this year; I squeal about it plenty.  The funny thing about the 2012 Cr-V?  Seeing as this is a leap year, Honda made a wonderful little tie-in called the Leap-List.  And wouldn't you know it, the entire purpose of the Cr-V is to start living your life in a way you hadn't before, by experiencing things you never have before.  And there is something wonderfully serendipitous about that.  (You can check it out for yourself here: http://automobiles.honda.com/leap-list/dashboard/)  I had already made the move to buy the car, so it wasn't like this made me leap (no pun intended) into it because I already had.  But I did think it was funny that I should be drawn to a vehicle during my year of changes, only to find it represents that in and of itself without my influence.  What are the odds?

So I drove her off the lot with a great deal, a great interest rate, and a great experience.  Her color was Urban Titanium, her guts were black, and then it struck me: this gal doesn't have a name!  I was searching my large cranium for a few days before I took the plunge, tossing around names to see which rolled off my tongue better.  I figured Bethel was a great car for a long time, so I might as well stick with the B's.  The rest is history.  Or will be, as it were.

# 8 - A New Partner; ladies and germs, meet Bernice.

Good night readers; see ya on the road!

feeling quite... quiet.

I like to consider myself a champion for change; it is in the back of my mind on a daily basis that nothing ever really stays the same for long.  Change is a central theme in my books, all three of them..  When approached for advice I even preach about it to others.  I think of change as this constant, primal force that cannot REALLY be tamed, nor can it be understood.  That's why I'm always surprised when it kind of rears up and slaps me in the face.

This isn't going to be one of my longer blogs, because in fact I don't have that much to say.  I'm kind of sad right now.  Not for reasons that are directly influenced by other people, it is mostly because of me.  I handle change in a pretty good way, always learning from and then adapting to it.  It's a pretty healthy occurrence because it keeps me sane.  I will admit however that at times, too much change can feel like a bad thing.

In the last two weeks a lot has been changing for me; financial situations, buying a new car, whatever-the-hell is going on in my love life (still not much,) happiness/annoyance with work, etc.  I had been looking forward to the end of April because it was going to bring some fairly massive changes for me.  And not changes in a bad way, but more of a "set me free" way.  Doesn't look like those are going to be happening now and over the last few days as I started to realize it, something else started happening.

The funny thing about feeling sad (I don't want to say depressed because I think it is too strong of a word,) is how you can see the emotion approaching like a storm over the ocean horizon.  Sky is beautiful, birds are singing, but in the distance is this odd sort of haze that is building up.  The haze starts to turn into clouds, and you think "Yikes, what the hell is that all about?"  And then it starts getting closer and you find yourself slipping into old habits; thinking about an ex, listening to sappier music than normal, emotionally connecting to movies and/or tv shows WAY more than usual.  Eventually, that haze and conglomerate of clouds is upon you and you suddenly remember what it is.  How it feels.  And you simply say "oh."

I knew this feeling of being sad/boo-hooey was coming for a little while now.  A lot of shitty things seemed to be rolling down the ramp toward me one after the other and it was reaching a fever pitch the last couple days.  I've been really happy for quite some time now and as change has taught me, all good things must come to an end.  NOT to say that this is going to last, because it won't, but I know I will wallow in my own self-pity for a few days because of it.

What it all boils down to is this; I went to dinner tonight with @Markstyleme and his wonderful partner, Mr. M, and I suddenly realized that I'm sad because I'm single.  Not in the way of me wanting to get back together with the dreaded ex.  God no.  Watching them tonight I was able to look back on the best parts of my last relationship and I was able to really understand what it was about it that I loved.  What I loved was the "ease."  The natural ebb and flow that comes with working so well with another person.  You move, they move; you breathe in, they breathe out.

I know I'm not depressed because I'm happy for the people around me and don't want them to feel the way I do.  I think I also know I'm not depressed because I can freely admit that.

I am over the moon ecstatic for all of my friends and family that are in relationships, because I truly believe they are wonderful things.  I also think that sometimes it really sucks not being in one.  @klreynol called and left me a voicemail tonight (hey girl) because I was being mopey through text messages.  She touched on what I said about being sad that I am single by replying how it is the polar opposite when on the other side of the line.  When you are the only one in a relationship while out with a bunch of single friends, you think about how great it would be to be one of them again.

We all know full well that the grass is always greener on the other side.  This I know; she does too.  And this feeling will pass in quick time, which is why I'm not afraid of it.  I find it funny that I used to look forward to the fall season because with it came this odd sort of depression... which back then I welcomed with open arms because it was a comfortable feeling.  Now I look at being sad as nothing more than annoyance.  I spent a good two years being sad, mostly if not all the time, and I'm ready for this little 'bout to just... you know.  Just fuck off.

I'm off to enjoy some icecream and tv.  With my cats.  Because they love me unconditionally.  Holy shit I'm a loser.  G'night ya'll.

a fond farewell

There was something that I was bound and determined to do this year, hell or high water, because I knew that the time had finally come to do it.  While it may be construed as a cheap shot to use a single event as two of my 26 Golden Things, I feel that by splitting it down the middle I can effectively write a fairly massive blog for each side of the equation.  I suppose this could be called part one (and probably the bigger part,) but really it starts and ends here and doesn't move into the next blog too much.  So here it is, the latest in my list of things to do for my Golden Year.

#7 - A Fond Farewell; finally letting go of Bethel the Jeep.

Summer 2001

My family and I moved from Southern California to Wisconsin in March of 1997 because my dad was transferred here for work.  I remember we had a Suburban at the time that my mom was driving, without four-wheel drive of course because why the hell would you need that in the valley?  Regardless, my dad had to buy a new car and in April of that year he purchased a 1997 Jeep Cherokee 4x4 Sport.  She was navy blue with a gray interior, a CD PLAYER! and four-wheel drive, and above all else... she was fun.  I remember my excitement over the Jeep because we had never really had a "fun" car.  A mini-van, a couple sedans, my brother had an ugly white Mustang (sorry Josh,) and my mom had the Suburban.  But the Jeep was brand-spanking new and a beauty.

For the first year or so it was my dad's car, but then it became my sister Megan's once he got a company car.  My brother Josh at one point wanted to drive down to Milwaukee with a couple co-workers for some sort of convention I believe.  Weather was kind of shitty and he wanted to take the Jeep because it had four-wheel drive.  It was October of 1998 and the ONLY accident the Jeep would ever really be involved in.  At least, one that caused damage.  Josh hit a deer (could have happened to anybody) and that bitch CREAMED the Jeep.  (It will be referred to as "the Jeep" until I get to October of 2005, btw.)  These are a couple pictures from when it was at the impound lot.  I like the one on the right more because you can see the obvious blood from the deer, but also the hair stuck in the cracks of the fiberglass, lol.  The Jeep was patched up and ready to roll shortly after, good as new.  Megan was still pissed.

 October 1998

Time goes on and so did the Jeep, several years passing under the ownership of my sister.  She moved out of the house when I was a freshman in high school, taking the Jeep with her when she left; that would be the fall of 2000.  A few years later she and I went up to High Cliff State Park to take pictures and fart around for the day.  It was May of 2002.  Up at the observation deck, after taking in the views, Megan asked me if I wanted to drive the Jeep.  I was ALMOST in Driver's Ed (by which I was enrolled but had not yet taken a single class.)  So I drove the Jeep less than half a mile and then freaked out and pulled over.  I don't think I drove it over 10 miles and hours; really, I just coasted down the road.  Maybe a week later after seeing "Life or Something Like It," Megan let me drive again, this time down Midway Road in Appleton for a couple miles.  It was exhilarating; I still remember jerking the wheel wildly because I thought you had to do that in order to keep it on the road.

At the beginning of March in 2003, Megan got married and moved away to Hawaii which meant, miracle of miracles, that the Jeep was staying behind and my parents were giving it to me to drive.  She had 68,400 miles on her; I don't know why I still remember that.  I wish I had some pictures from those first couple months but I don't.  I only have a picture from the beginning of May 2003 when mom made me stand beside the Jeep for the obligatory "You're going to prom!" pictures.  I was on my way to pick up the lovely @roamingMo because she was taking me to prom (I was only a junior.)

 May 2003

Back then the Jeep was still a really nice car.  No dents or dings, no major problems under the hood (ignoring the deer incident, natch.)  God I look like such a prick in that picture.  Anyway.  So the Jeep was finally mine, I drove her everywhere, and picked anyone up who needed a ride and insisted on driving when in a group.  I LOVED driving her; windows down, blasting Michelle Branch with Kyle, gallivanting around Appleton.  A year later I made the first change to the car that would endure through the end.

 

The first bumper-sticker.  I actually had another one at the same time but eventually got rid of it after I came-out of the closet and put a Human Rights Campaign sticker in its place.  The sticker you see above I collected in New York in May of 2004.  The drama group from my high school took a semi-annual trip to the Big Apple and I was lucky enough to be able to go.  To this date it was the best time of my life... it was a trip that shaped me in a way I never would have anticipated and wouldn't change for anything in the world.  I started becoming comfortable in my skin.  I started realizing that high school was going to be over in a few weeks and that when it was... I would be free.  This sticker symbolizes to me the dawning of a new age.  Nearly every time I look at it, it reminds me of the person I was before school was over.  Because really, the summer of 2004 was the "shaping" summer and I obtained this riiiiiight at the beginning of it.

 August 2005

That summer did eventually come to an end and then I was (somewhat) the person I am now.  Kyle moved to Chicago for school so I went down to visit him a lot, the above picture being a return trip that brought him home with me.  This is one of the things that I take with me... one of the things that began to humanize the Jeep to me.  Memories.  And not just the memories of the people I drove with or the places we would wander to, but of the very existence of the car itself.  It was starting to become a character in the book of my life.

 September 2005

Washing the car with my nephew Brayden; he was about 14 months old.  In September of 2005 I started working at a call center named Convergys, specifically for United Health Group.  It was a miserable, thankless job that involved answering phone calls in regards to the new (at the time) prescription drug plan Medicare was rolling out with.  There were a lot of very angry old people calling, all the time, wanting to know why they were going to have to start paying more for meds and all that.  We didn't have cubicles, just these long rows of desks that had "walls" sitting on top of them.  On the opposite side of my wall was a co-worker who was very large, in her late 60's/early 70's, and had a fuckin' MOUTH on her.  In mid October when the phone lines went live, the following conversation occurred:

"No, I will NOT tell you my name, ma'am!"  

::customer on phone says something::  

"Because it's none of your damn business!  I'm answering your goddamn questions about medicine and that's it!" 

 ::customer on phone says something::  

"FINE!  My name is BETHEL!"

And thus, a star was born through my fits of silent laughter.  Enter stage left; Bethel the Jeep.

Almost in conjunction with Bethel being christened with a name was Edmund.  In October of 2005 our dog Gwyn, an English Mastiff and the sweetest thing in the world, was nearing the end of her run.  It happened too soon in all of our opinions but she ended up getting cancer and it was the only choice.  I was working at the call center and called my mom during my break to ask how Gwyn was doing, only to find out that she had been put down.  I went back to my desk in a bit of a daze and had an interaction with Terri.

Now, let me preface this by saying Terri was this crazy jackass who claimed she had a doctorate in child psychology.  She could also never explain why she was working for $9.10 an hour at a call center with said doctorate.  I digress.

Terri asks what's wrong and I'm trying to hold back my tears when I say that our family pet was put down.  She kinda gives this semi-smile and reaches into her desk and pulls out a rubber ducky.  It's one of those things you squeeze to relieve tension or stress.  Whatever.  Terri hands it over and says "Here Sean, you need this right now.  Just give it back when you're done."  And then she gets up and heads to lunch.  I proceeded without blinking to rip the head off.  I tossed the head on my desk and took a call, absentmindedly drawing red marker around the neck and then in the eyes, etc.  I took long pins from my cork-board and reattached the head.  Because I have a guilty conscience I started feeling like an asshole and realized I couldn't give the duck back to her, so I made up some story about how I would appreciate it if I could just have it.  She obliged, not seeing my handy work, and I ended up sticking him on the dashboard by the steering wheel.

I don't remember entirely why I named him Edmund... it just occurred.  Edmund became a good-luck omen for me because after I put him up I never received another ticket from a police officer.  Knock on wood.  Not that I am some CRAZY driver, but I was able to escape from every ticket or citation, whichever, in the years to follow.  He became the mascot of Bethel, allowing people to identify the Jeep in parking lots, at businesses, etc.  In my head we sort of formed a tri-fecta... not to say of course that I interact verbally with them.  

Okay, so that's a lie.  I tend to yell at Bethel when she makes ugly sounds.  True story.

 August 2006 

Bethel soon adopted a personality that matched my co-worker's.  (Former, actually, because I quit that shit-hole a couple weeks later to go back to Express full-time.)  Things started falling apart around then for the old girl.  The hoses needed to be completely replaced the summer of 2006 (when I went up to Jillybean's cabin and had the time of my life (again).)  That summer I was visiting Kyle in Chicago and someone at some point backed into the rear passenger side and smashed it in.  A rattle appeared in the dashboard that couldn't be fixed.  But I endured, because Bethel was my girl and I would stick with her through thick and thin.

 April 2008

Not much happened after 2006 though... my dating life kinda kicked off, sputtering and starting up again a few times before taking flight around the time the above picture was taken.  That was outside St. James Martini Bar, meeting some friends.  Good thing I was wearing a Rolling Stones t-shirt, didn't want people to think I was classy or anything.

 August 2008

I started taking "multiple" pictures that year, and this was one of the first finished products.  They look complex to make but they really aren't, you just need to have some finesse with Photoshop and the eraser tool.  Basically you set your camera up on a tri-pod (which I didn't have; my camera was taped down to a stack of books on top of the garbage can and set in the middle of the front yard.)  The sitting down pose is a no-brainer, as is the asshole drying the car off.  The one spraying the hose is doing just that... and then mom came in and got to spray me down.  As I said, clever eraser work.

 July 2009

I finally moved out on my own in 2009, buying Bethel from my parents for $1,000.  She was showing her age by that point and somewhat severely.  The entire brake system had to be replaced that spring, along with $900 of random work that fall.  The above picture was taken at the drive-in movie theater in Freedom, WI.  It's one of my favorite places.  The backdoor was having a problem staying open by itself, and on this day in particular we had shoved a piece of wood against the bumper to hold it up.  Kinda ghetto... but so were most people at the drive-in so that was OK.

January 2011

And then that happened.  Driving to work the day after a snow storm, Bethel did a couple 360's on the highway going about 60 mph and spun into the ditch.  I called work first to say I was going to be late, and then I called home and started crying.  In hindsight, I COULD say I was crying because it was the first sign that Bethel really was on her way out.  In reality I was crying because I was afraid it would cost too much to repair her, lol.  Luckily there was no damage, to the car or myself.  But it was the first sign of things to come.

Tires were replaced that summer.  Then the bolts holding the driver's seat down to the floor sheered off and I was forced to use plastic zip-ties and rope to hold it down.  The air-conditioning AND heater made mysterious noises when turned on.  Either it screamed like a strangled cat or rumbled and growled to the point where anytime I came to a stop, I had to turn the air off.  Embarrassing.  In the fall of 2011, she was dead and had to be towed out of the garage to be repaired.  Less than $100 to fix.  In the beginning of February 2012... she was dead and had to be towed out of the garage to be repaired again.  That one was $200.  Last week the driver's side window fell inside the door and to fix it would cost $200... and I decided that was it.

After nine fabulous years, countless memories, enough fits of laughter to fill a book and enough tears to last a  lifetime, it has come to the end.  Tomorrow, April 14th, 2012, Bethel the Jeep is getting traded in.  And it's actually kind of funny how sad I am about it.  I want to say that I'm heartbroken, but to do so seems melodramatic.  Still... it's my blog.  And I am heartbroken.

How do you say goodbye?  At first she started out as just another car, the first of many new things that came out of moving to Wisconsin.  Then she turned into the first car I ever drove, then the first car I ever owned.  Then the first car I traveled with, the first car I grew upset with, the first car I named, the first car I got frisky in (yeah, it happened, so what?)  At what point does a vehicle become more than the sum of its parts and turn into a friend?

Bethel has heard countless personal conversations; she's seen me cry so many times that I don't even want to think about it.  She's heard me sing in amazing key; she's heard me sing horribly FUCKING bad.  She's seen me laugh, lie, scream, joke, banter, flirt and give the silent treatment.  She's been the one thing over the past nine years that was constant for me, that one thing I knew I had that wasn't going to change.  So when the time comes to say goodbye, knowing full well she is going to be torn apart and sold off in pieces to the highest bidder... it is devastating.  I don't know any other word for it.  Tonight I peeled her stickers off, emptied the center console, and chucked most of the contents of the glove compartment.  There was an odd sense of finality about it all.

April 13th, 2012

I suppose I could have put on a black suit with a white shirt and a white tie, trying to mirror myself at age 17 when I first got Bethel.  But that would mean trying to show that I hadn't changed during the course of the near decade that passed between us.  Instead I chose to echo the colors and show myself at 26.  Comfortable in my own skin, pleased with my appearance and the condition of my body, and just... well, I guess just happy.  When I was in high school, I used to wonder what I would be like in five years... 10 years... 15 years.  I don't think I thought I would be the man I have become, for better or for worse.  I will admit, however, that if at 17 years old I saw the above picture I'd probably think "Ooof, shit... take your shirt off!"

I'm sure some of you reading this have memories in Bethel.  You might not remember them to the excruciating detail I do, but you have them.  I'd love for you to leave a comment below with some.  God, this is turning into a funeral!  But really, you don't need to be a member of a board or anything special to leave a comment, and I wish it would happen more often.  Leave your name, too, so I know who the hell you are.

In the end, Bethel wasn't a decent car.  She wasn't a good car.  She was a fantastic car.  She was everything I needed at anytime I needed it, and she drove me forward in life, both figuratively and literally.  Together we drove 111,000 miles, give or take the 20 I will be driving tomorrow to the dealership.  I'll always have a special place in my heart for this old bitch, warts and all.  She lived to be 15... let's see if I can do better next time (c:

#7 - A Fond Farewell; finally letting go of Bethel the Jeep.

I'll leave you with some Michelle Branch; 'ol blue would've wanted it that way.

minor course correction

Seems like there has been a re-design of the blog... can ya dig it?  Sorry, moving on.

I wonder if there was ever a person who did everything right the first time, never having to learn from a mistake he or she made.  Would that person have been wiser in the end to have fucked it up once, or would they have been as equally comfortable from a life of pure confidence?  If said confidence is key and we push ourselves daily to strive for excellence... I don't think I know the answer.

Earlier tonight I was talking to @klreynol about things I have learned lately.  Chief among them I said I learned to "trust my doubts."  She said it should be rephrased as "trust your instincts," and I must agree.  It sounds much less mopey and far more optimistic.  And I should add that over the last several weeks I was growing increasingly optimistic.  It was a nice change of pace... it was a return to form, if you will.  I used to be incredibly optimistic; one might say it was almost to a fault.

But things happen and then yadda-yadda, you get cheated on.  Optimism seems pointless at that moment in time.

I told the most important people in my life a month ago that there was a big change coming, not necessarily to me but from me.  A shift in direction.  There was a new wind blowing my sails and the exciting thing about it was that it was guiding me in a direction I felt I could watch with starry eyes.  That's the thing about meeting someone new, someone exciting and different from the rest... it inspires change within you.

The most exciting part of that change is what it causes you to do.  I had started my "minor" working out with the shake-weight, which I like to poke fun at while insisting it works to the non-believers (fact: it does work. Talk to my biceps (bam-BAM!))  I was randomly doing sit ups as well, but mostly because I felt like I should do something with my abs and they were easy.  But then I got a little more serious and went to town; started the ab-roller (guh, holy shit) and followed that by picking up running again.  I used to roll my eyes at people who worked out, mostly because I simply didn't understand how they could actually WANT to go to the gym.  Funny enough, it's probably because they feel better about themselves when they do it.  And wouldn't ya know it?  I started feeling better about myself too.  The amazing thing actually is that I started looking better too, and seeing any sort of result is worth its obvious weight in gold.

The other change is the ability to start believing in people again.  Being lied to for so long and SO successfully didn't do much for me other than to shatter my beliefs that people can be good.  Mainly, men I am interested in.  So in comes this new guy and it just feels... different.  I don't know what other word to use to describe it, he is just different.  And for every lie I thought he was whispering, he was in fact not.  Either by proving it himself or by me allowing that ugly paranoia to take control and find out for myself.  What's funny (not really) is how bad you feel when you THINK someone is lying, only to realize they aren't.  Because really, that disappointment you have building up in yourself towards the person when you catch them?  Yeah... when you end up being wrong, the only place it can go is to reflect back and smack you in the kisser.

Feeling like a jackass is not a favored quality, but god damnit I own it.

It's actually really hard to write all of this and keep quiet about the main issues at hand, but I have to.  I promised myself that I wouldn't air dirty laundry involving my relationship status (if you can even call it that (you can't)) this time, so I'll keep my big mouth shut.  Things are what they are and maybe they end up better and maybe they end up worse.  I think that's as vague as it gets.  Trust me, I hardly know more than you do at this point.

To get back to the beginning of this, it began as a topic of confidence.  We all have it to a certain degree, some more than others.  As time goes on I learn more about it and adapt myself to thrive on it, but there are still flaws and caveats I deal with.  I'm a prime case of someone who starts looking back on the past and analyzing it, almost to the point of exhaustion.  With my memory (which, if you know me, is razor-fucking-sharp,) I am able to look at entire conversations I have had and pinpoint a place in said conversations where I should have done something different.  If I could go back in time and erase a single line... if I could manifest myself in that past conversation and edit a small blurb with a magic marker, things would probably go better in every way imaginable.

Maybe that's why I write books?  Having the ability to dominate and control the outcome of every conversation contained within them gives me the ability to play god in some form.  I'll be the first to admit that sometimes I start writing a conversation and realize it is headed down a path that I'm not sure how I'll back out of.  Those of you who have read early versions of my manuscripts can attest to that.  The fun part is sitting back, looking at the words, and going "Ah, this part right here ::delete::"  But in real life it's obviously not that easy.  It's actually really hard.  And it's made even harder by staring at past words obsessively and figuring out the tiny pin-pricks of dialogue that ended up shaping things out of your favor, if they were ever in it to begin with.

But then... I got on Pinterest tonight, most wonderful of wonderful things, and started perusing my boards.  In "Thoughts" I found this gem:

And then I realized I needed to sit back from the situation, relax, and look forward.  Because not everything works out the way we want; it wouldn't be fair if it did.  Some of us may have more luck than others; some of us may have a better nack at reading a person and turning the "live" conversation in a direction that will only benefit them.  Sometimes I'm one of those people... and maybe this time I'm not.  And though I am not totally convinced of what I'm about to say... this time I'm okay with it.

Like I said, nothing is finished.  To me, nothing is ever finite until I feel I have engraved it in concrete and am satisfied it will stay that way.  Like I told @klreynol, I'm not typically one to let sleeping dogs lie.  Maybe I am confident after all?  We define confidence as belief in oneself and one's powers and abilities.  I'm confident in my words, 90% in real-time and 110% in rear-view-mirror time, and I suppose that accounts for something.

To the people I mentioned in paragraph one, the people who don't ever make mistakes (because they somehow and in someway MUST exist) I feel sorry.  I think of mistakes as a divine human gift.  We learn from them and grow greatly because of them, and to not make any at all is to never change in our ways.  If the last month has taught me anything it is that there really is a silver lining in every encounter, good or bad, that inspires us to change.

Maybe those changes are simple... they make us look at things in a slightly different light.  They make us do something just a little bit different than we did before.  They make us omit certain words from our conversations that show a weakness, such as "I hope I'm not annoying you."  Have the confidence you aren't annoying them, Sean... and maybe they really do like you.  Shit, I revealed something.  Maybe those changes build muscle, too.  And whatever the muscle that is built, in your arms or in your mind, take heed and notice it.  Changes are always a good thing.

I look now to a change in course... a slight correction in my navigation abilities.  Who knows what new opportunities they will bring?  The lesson learned here in the end, really, is that there are still good men (and women, whatevs,) and they don't all lie.  Which is cool by me.  I keep listening to the song below, partly because it's catchy and fun and partly because something about the lyrics resonate well with me.  

A picture paints a thousand words;

As one door closes, another doors opens, 

And two wrongs don't make a right.  

Now good things come to those who wait;

Take the highs with the lows dear,

You'll get what you're given and everything's gonna be alright.

Thanks, Lily Allen.  And thus I bid you all adieu (c: