the song of a decade

On December 25th, 2005, when the decade switched from my teens and let me go roarin' into my 20's, this was me.  Cross eyed, badly flat-ironed hair, and wearing a shirt that was probably a little too small for me.  No idea how to be cool, no idea what I wanted in life, just thankful the phase of me wearing "guy liner" had come to an end.  I was so excited to not be a teenager anymore.  19 was a bum year that didn't entail much other than me working full-time so I could pay off the utterly massive credit card debt I'd amassed a few short months after high school ended.

I write somewhat frequently about being able to look back on things and analyze the ways I've changed and grown since they occurred.  It's a little bit different when you are summing up a decade of life.  I'll try to leave out the details of location changes because that's the obvious answer to "what changed??" and instead I'll stick to the personal stuff.  You all like that better anyway, I'm sure.

I don't remember much about turning 20.  There was a lot of excitement for leaving 19 behind, I know that, but it was one of those filler years where it didn't mean much else.  I was working full-time at Express and enjoying the benefits that came with actually making some real money for the first time in my life.  I was starting to pay my debt off and making new friends outside of those from high school, but... that was about it.

A year later and a fair amount thinner.  Glory me!  I still look at that as a baby face though, mostly because I was still shaving with a razor because I thought I needed to as an adult.  I hadn't turned into the wookie I am now.  From what I can recall 21 was a decent year.  I'd never been the kind of person to underage drink, I think I only did so a handful of times (like... three times) before I was a legal age, and I think that was a good indicator of what I'd be like from then on out.  I've never been much of a drinker.

Don't get me wrong, I can hold my liquor very (annoyingly) well, I just don't partake.  I'd rather come home after a hard day at work and drink a milkshake than have a cocktail, but none of you should be surprised about that.  Former fatty, right here!

Relationship wise, I wasn't in one.  I hadn't been in one for a few years, actually, because for whatever reason any time I started dating, I got sick of the person.  Which was so dumb and juvenile but the truth.  Midway through the year I met Evan and it became my first relationship that a) lasted more than a couple months and b) I didn't end out of boredom.  I ended it because it just wasn't right.

You know you're growing up when you can identify something.  I was ready for love, it just wasn't with Evan.

I'd left Express for a while and had gone to Aldo, then subsequently back to Express.  With no idea at all of who I was or what the hell I was doing.  I did buy an XBox that year though... so that was something?

Being 22 was important due to two singular things.  Firstly, I became a manager at Express and that kicked off my career in retail.  I'd been in retail for a few years already but only in lower-level positions.  It was a long learning curve, to be sure, and I really didn't learn much until a great guy named Steve eventually came along and showed me how to do my job.  Props to Steve! But that was a few years later.

The other reason was that I met Ken in 2008 and started a tumultuous relationship that was filled with great highs and incredible lows, but for the moment was grand.  22 was a year filled with firsts of all sorts, but mostly they were just experiences.  Tubing down a river, falling in love, my family accepting my boyfriend, staying in love, getting a fancy camera and learning how to badly photoshop my wrinkles out.

I mean... no, I don't do that.  I of course have no wrinkles.

There was a continuous theme of coloring my hair dark at the end of every year, so I love looking at these and seeing how it seems like I naturally had the same hair color as my brother.  Nope!  That'd be a box of Revlon hard at work.  If 22 had been important for the two things aforementioned, 23 was even bigger because it was the year I moved out of my parent's house.

Ken and I were doing great and in February moved in with each other in Appleton.  For a long time it was pretty great.  I finally felt like an adult because I could host parties and dinners and Christmas, not having to just come downstairs to greet people but instead having to open the door and welcome them inside my place.  Relationships with my best friends were still growing and changing but they were getting stronger all the while.

2009 was good for that.

I was still at Express and still enjoying it.  The store had a way of having a good year for me and then having a shit year, and this was one of the better years.  I worked with a group of people that I truly enjoyed and many of them are still in my life because of it.  Life was essentially easy, it had been for a long while, and I assumed I'd be able to continue coasting along unscathed.

There was no way of knowing I was a couple months away from having my world shattered with a series of affairs that would make me question everything I'd come to know as safe in my life.  I made a mistake with Ken that February, not knowing he was and would continue making a much larger mistake at the same time.

When the truth came out it was heartbreaking.  For both of us, to be fair, because I was not innocent and it wouldn't be right to pretend I was.  "Innocent-er" is the phrase I'll use instead, but really, once you step in shit it's hard to clean it off without soapy water.  We decided to stay together under certain conditions and then made the move to a new home in Wrightstown, citing our Appleton home as cursed (the address was 1666 (Devil speak!)) and a fresh start was what we needed.

Just before the move we took in two little balls of fur that were only a week old.  I didn't want them, I admit it, but they were gonna fix us somehow and I did want that.  Enter stage left, Paolo and Sophia Parker.

It was a year of constantly feeling my heart drop into my stomach, feeling sick over what happened, accusing Ken of anything and everything I could, and snooping so much that it turned me into a crazy person.  Couples therapy led to us deciding we should buy a house together (...) in Green Bay.

I don't know.  Let's chalk it up to me being 24 and a fuckin' idiot.

You get through some bad stuff and feel like you've weathered a storm.  I like to look at this picture of me hitting 25 and know now that the storm was just a rain shower.  I was heading into a hurricane in two months and this time I wasn't going to get out of it so easily.

Ken and I broke up in March on the day we signed the loan for our house.  Saying I was devastated would not be doing it justice.  My world being "shattered" wouldn't do it justice.  I think the accurate words to describe me in April of 2011 would be "completely and utterly pulverized, destroyed, burnt, and left to drown."  To me, at the time, there was no way out of who I had become.

After the final affair became apparent, after he moved out, and after I discovered allllllll the rest of the lies that had been running rampant throughout our entire relationship, I was a shell of a person.  A shell at 25, glory me!

I got promoted at work but with the cost of being transferred unwillingly to Green Bay.  I had to swallow my pride and move back in with my parents, something I considered an absolute failure on my part as an adult.  I had to watch as one best friend started a new relationship and quickly fell in love while another got engaged and started building the pieces to her happily ever after.

I know, boo hoo me, right?  But even now five years later I can't help but look back on this with clear eyes and see how hard I took it all.  Moving home could have been therapeutic in the sense that I was moving back to the house we'd been in for 14 years as a family, but even that was changing.  My parents had finished renovating Parker Manor (as I named it) and after a month of living with them we moved again.

I kept the cats after the breakup, though Sophia was really more of Ken's cat, and it took most of the year for her to warm up to me.  But gradually she did, and gradually the pain slipped away.  I was able to turn the focus back onto myself, something I hadn't done in a really long time, and try to change for the better.  My job still sucked, sure, but I was making money and starting to thirst for something great in my life.

Just in time for a golden birthday.

The moment captured above was at my surprise birthday party for when I turned 26.  26 years old on the 26th of December marked it as my "golden birthday," and I was surrounded by my family and friends.  I gave a very short speech that night, broke down into tears, and sat down to eat dinner.  Then I gave it another shot after the meal, telling each person that was there why they were important to me and how they had helped me.  Surrounded by my bests (no longer best friends, they were just "the bests") and my family.  It was an incredibly emotional night but it capped off the end of a terribly emotional year.  I was ready to fix it... to fix me, and I did.

2012, also known as the year of "26 Golden Things."  I decided in January that I was going to do 26 new and exciting things throughout the year and that I'd blog about each of them as they happened.  And then I decided "fuck it, I'll video the whole thing too."  So I did.

The movie is available to watch if you'd like to, I always said it would be free to anyone that needed it.  There were of course pros and cons to making "26 Golden Things," seeing as every single thing I set out to do I managed to nail to the proverbial wall.  I pitched it as "the best memories are those you make yourself," and that still stands true.

You are only the victim for as long as you want to be.  The keys to your happiness lie in your own hands and you cannot rely on anyone or anything to change it for you.  I learned this, and I'm glad I did, because it made me a better person.  I was able to use my golden year to take the reigns of life back in my hands and find some sort of purpose.  Like the back of the DVD case for the movie says, "get inspired."  I still look back and feel inspiration from what I managed to achieve, not just on my own but with the help and participation of my friends and family.

I'd love to do it again someday... to one-up myself with a new "best year ever," but the times have changed so much that I don't know how.  Maybe I'll figure it out and maybe I won't, but I like to at least think that I will.  For now I know that I'll never look back on 26 with a frown.

27 started with big changes.  I was happily employed at Pottery Barn and putting my feelers out on a new relationship.  The relationship didn't exactly flourish before it ended on June first, but I learned from it and moved on.  That spring I lost my grandfather, the final grandparent to my siblings and I, in the same week that I busted my ankle and moved out on my own.

It was a difficult week to deal with all of that but I suppose it was like ripping a band-aid off; just get it done and let the healing begin.

I loved living alone.  I think that was how I knew it'd never last with Ken, I always thought "someday when I live alone," and that's not the right mentality going into a relationship.  But whatever.  I had a great year being 27, not the best ever but it was really a year of doing things my way and how I wanted.  Taking trips, walking around my home without pants on, and getting to expand my skills in cooking.  Not simultaneously.  I inducted a new best into the fold as well, Miss T.  Dressed up as a GUY for halloween, once again colored my hair dark in the fall, and also decided to grow it out and not cut it off right away as I usually did.

2014 was a fairly uneventful year when it came to me but eventful for everyone else it seemed.

Aside from the fact that I published my first novel, The Onyxus Chronicles: Episode I.  One mustn't forget that!

Everyone was either moving or getting engaged or getting hitched in 2014.  My bests, specifically.  @markstyleme got engaged, @caitlinclaire got engaged AND married, and then @klreynol put our rock solid friendship to the test by moving away to Arizona with her growing family.  I stayed where I was, single, ready to mingle, but otherwise motionless.

To be fair, getting the book ready occupied most of my time.  When I wasn't working on the first book, I was working diligently on the second.  And when I wasn't working on that, I was working on putting my halloween costume together (Dr. Frankenfurter) and planning for Christmas.  You'd be as surprised as I was when a tall, skinny but muscular (you're welcome, pinkie) guy showed up at my (term used loosely) Starbucks one day.

I suppose love happens when you just aren't looking?  It did for me at least, and that was how I wrapped up 28.

I don't know what to say about 29.  Started it with long hair and didn't cut it for 9 more months?  Yes.  Started it almost 2,000 miles from where I'll end it?  Yes.  Started it at one job and will end it at a third?  Yes.

2015 was a year of changes for me this time and less for everybody else.  I tried my best to soak up everything I could before the biggest change came along, that of moving to Texas, but of course there were things left behind that I would have liked to revisit for one last go.  People I wanted to see, faces I wanted to slap, y'know... important stuff.  Having the love and support of Derek through it has made a world of difference and made it much easier as well, but 29 was just a filler year for the most part.  It was the big drawing of air that would lead to the change of a decade.

I feel like being here now, I can finally exhale and let all of the hot air and silly wind out.  There's nothing left to wonder about or hold any sort of fear over... every big event that was supposed to happen this year has now happened, and because of it I can breath just a bit easier.  You'll have to wait for "a new resolution" in a few days to hear any more on the subject.  So, without further ado...

That brings us to now.  Me, Sean S. Parker; a 30 year old, two-times published author, father of two cats, partner to one amazing guy, living in Austin, TX and working for west elm.  You write goals down at one point in time and as said time progresses these things have a way of coming to fruition.  Or at least so I've found.

As I've gotten older birthdays have made me sad.  I don't think it's a sadness in terms of "woe is me, I'm getting older," but more of a sense of time now gone.  Time I won't ever get back.  The advantage to that feeling is how it pushes me to do more and more, faster and faster, bigger and better.  I know 30 is not old by any means, and if anything it just takes me out of the category of "oh you're still in your 20's, you're so young."  I don't feel young anymore, and I'm okay with that.  It's like a passing of the torch.

But it makes me sad in that I want more and more time with people.  My parents, my siblings, my friends... it's just that I can't be everywhere all the time and those moments still need to be shared.  If I could have everyone in my life live on the same city block, that'd be fantastic.  But I can't.

It's funny how your priorities change as you get older.  That what was once so important to you is now just a fleeting memory.  I never knew who or what I was going to be in the future, I just lived each day in the moment and kept moving forward.  At 20 I was so worried about my mountains of debt, and at 30 I'm worried about how I'll pay for a wedding that will eventually be on the horizon or buying a house (which is potentially a closer idea, all things considered).  I'm worried about when I'll get to see my family or my friends again in person, and how soon I can do so.

I also look back and wish I could warn myself about a few things...

Give certain people a chance.  Don't take certain promotions.  Actually plan ahead when they tell you "hey, plan ahead."  Start saving money.  Don't buy a new car, get a used one, and outside of that 2012 will be worth every penny spent.  You can't make people like you.  You can't make people love you.  You can't make people stay when they just don't want to anymore.  If you get cheated on, sever ties immediately and make it a clean break.  You will have your bubble popped more times than you can count, but just let it happen; you will learn so much more that way.  Never second-guess if it's the right time to publish, just do it.  Enjoy.  Your.  Life.

I ended 2012 with the following quote and it still stands true today.  I think this, more than any of that other stuff, is what I would say to that dumbshit riding a rocking horse at the top of this page.

"As you grow up, you will learn even the one person that wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will.  You will have your heart broken more than once and it gets harder every time; you'll break hearts, too, so remember how it felt when yours was shattered.  You'll fight with your best friend.  You'll blame a new love for the things an old one did.  You'll cry because time is passing by too fast and you'll eventually lose someone you love more than anything else.  So take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never been hurt because every 60 seconds you spend upset is another minute of happiness you'll never get back.  Don't be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin."

That's all for now, gang.  I'll let you know how 30 goes as time progresses.  Until then, I need to get busy on another project.  I'm still toying with "30, flirty, and thriving" as a movie title...

Toodles (c;

the fall 2015 update

Welcome, one and all, to the <em>very</em> first blog written on my <em>very</em> first website, seansparker.com, and written with the sole intent on flipping a giant middle finger to blogger and the fact that it so unceremoniously DELETED the entire blog I had written and was nearly ready to post for your enjoyment. I know you all get such joy out of my blogs, right? I'd written what I felt was a pretty decent blog, detailing my miserable experience it my job since moving here but the wonderful lessons I've learned from it, spinning it in a positive way like I tend to do. No one likes a sad nelly! But alas, it's all gone, and maybe for the better. Now I can rewrite that and leave out the bulk because it just didn't matter. I needed to vent and get it out of me like drawing poison from a wound.

I just hate re-writing stuff.  Hmph.

I feel like from where fall began (September 1st) to where fall ended (November 30th (I'm quite aware those aren't the real dates, thanks very much)) there were miles of changes in between.  1,293 miles, to be exact.  With tolls (thank google maps). Driving down was equal parts fascinating and miserable, y'know? I've written before about the move so I won't bore you with too many of the emotions. When I pulled out of my parents driveway that morning, I was drowsy but excited. And of course overwhelmed with sadness, trying my hardest to keep a stiff upper lip because if I didn't I'd just fall apart.

I thought it'd be a good idea to let the cats roam the car, which in hindsight obviously wasn't because they were freaked out and climbing all over and there was nothing safe about that. But they distracted me enough on the back roads during the drive toward Madison that I didn't really end up crying.  I wanted to, and my throat was tight like you wouldn't believe, but I didn't cry. Outside Madison I had to stop and lock them up because while Paolo was being mostly good and staying in my lap, Sophia kept getting down by the pedals and all I could hear in my head was my mom's voice calling out "They'll get behind the brakes and you won't be able to stop and you'll die."

So into the carriers they went, and then the drugs took hold and you can see above what that did to their eyes.

Then there was the drive through Illinois and Missouri, which was boring any way you looked at it. Everything was the same. St. Louis injected some excitement with how surprisingly hilly it was after I got through the city, and by that point I was encroaching the 12 hour mark of driving. The day went on, the pit-stops weren't super frequent but often enough because I'm one of those "pee-ers," and the scenery continued to change. Oklahoma was actually really pretty, partly because the sunlight was turning amber and partly because of the fields were covered in what looked like spider-webs. Then it got dark.

18 hours on the road was a long time, and there were still 5 to go. In the daylight my attention span was focused but in the dark it felt like a treacherous drive. I'd also never driven for more than 16 hours straight so this was a challenge. Dallas was terrifying to drive through because of all the assholes speeding through the city but what're ya gonna do? Eventually I got to Austin (a good hour and a half ahead of my brother and his girlfriend) and stayed at her house. I thought I'd be able to just pass right out but I couldn't on account of a) my nerves being shot and b) the gallons of caffeine rushing through me. It was a fitful rest, and eventually I just got up after four hours and drove the rest of the way to meet Derek.

It took me a few days to finally come around from feeling sick (that much caffeine is like poison) but eventually I was good. We gave up drinking soda in the early spring but indulged after unloading the truck because we could.  That Dr. Pepper didn't taste as good as I imagined.



The other big change that came with the move was the official loss of my once flowing locks ::pause for silence:: after just over two years growing it out. Things didn't go exactly as planned when @markstyleme and I decided to go dark, and though there was the initial cutting of the tresses in August, once I got down to Texas I decided it'd be best to just buzz it off and start fresh.

Would you believe me if I told you I didn't even know what my natural hair color was anymore? It'd been so long since I had seen it, either going from blond to dark brown, back to blond and then brown again, always in this "heave-ho" gesture. It wasn't a mystery why my hair always felt dry and far from an Herbal Essences commercial. By buzzing it off for a few consecutive weeks I was left with nothin' but real color and a few more grays I'd rather not have seen. The mission of growing it back out commences now, with the goal of never coloring it being my focus... but who knows how long that'll last.



Moving down, I was originally supposed to be working at west elm.  We all know how that fell apart because of positions not being available at the right time, yadda yadda. It sucked but it was what it was. When I drove through St. Louis I got the phone call of approval that I'd be landing at PBKids for a little while, as the store was going through a big transition and they needed support until they could get back on their feet. Probably a month max, two at the most.

It didn't start off on the right foot... I don't think there was any way I could have come into that store and not been the enemy. Every move I made was wrong in the eyes of the leaders in the building, and it of course meant that my only motivation was to ruin their lives (which couldn't have been farther from the truth). I was there to correct several wrong practices and shift everyone in the correct direction they needed to be moving in. I also came in with the belief that being new to the city, they'd welcome me and make me feel comfortable and less like a fish out of water.  How wrong was I!

For every nudge I made, there was a nasty bitch slap coming back at me. Take the picture of that Christmas window, for example.

I was so excited for the holiday window to be set; I love Christmas and I was hoping it would cheer me up. This was two months into my tenure and I was starting to become exhausted. I'd been brought to the store in my normal position of Associate Store Manager but was quickly moved into an Acting General Manager to have more "pull" with the team. When I came in one morning and saw the window was set, I was overwhelmed with joy and pride in the team for executing it and took a picture for my instagram with the caption "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, eeeeeverywhere you go." The next day it got back to me that the manager who set the window released a flood of words about me, including "how dare he try to take credit for our window, he had nothing to do with it." Because clearly that's what I was doing...? That's just a small example of the pushback, and it's not worth diving into the more harsh instances because it's coming to an end now and I don't want to dwell on it. After turning over 85% of the staff, managers included, I'd rather look forward.

West elm came to me a week after I started and said they had a position for me and would hold it until I could get out of the kids store. The initial conversation was that I'd be joining them November 1st. But things happened at the kids store and that got pushed to mid November... then the end of November... then the end of December. The store just couldn't get into a position that I'd be able to leave it without any guilt, or that I'd even be allowed to leave.

Finally it is becoming a reality now, with two weeks remaining until I can go and work at the store I have wanted to work at for the last three years. And since I'm at the end of my second tenure as an Acting General Manager, I do have to say it was a great learning experience despite some of the at times overwhelming negativity that came with it.

I had a wonderful leader in my District Manager, Randi, and I am forever grateful for her guidance and help. She always answered my texts, always took my calls, and that was a great help to me. She partnered with me on everything I needed and when it comes down to it, I'm sad that I won't be getting to work with her anymore. There are a few associates I brought on board that I will miss, but now that I won't be working with them I can hopefully extend those relationships outside the store.  if so, they'll be my first actual friends down here in the Lone Star state.

I learned a lot about perseverance and what it takes to make something right again. I feel like I was tossed into a big pit of cow shit, knees deep, and had to shovel my way out. I've managed to empty the pit and somewhat hose myself off, and now someone else can come in and just give it a good rinsing and then fill said pit with water. Not that you'd want to drink it, of course... but you can at least entice new people to walk toward it. I'm bad at analogies right now, get over it.

You'll have to wait for the winter update to know what happens next in the work realm, but I have a feeling it's going to be pretty great.  I've done my time and taken my licks, and now I can move forward knowing I achieved something pretty good.



All that being said, October wasn't the best month for me and I didn't really feel like I was in the mood for Halloween until it was right upon us.  Derek was wonderful the whole time, of course, giving me the encouragement I needed and providing a listening ear when I had to vent.  As the month moved on, we watched some scary movies but didn't really do anything else.  No haunted houses, certainly.  The peer pressure from friends back in Wisconsin eventually pushed me into dressing up and in the end, I'm glad we did.  I repurposed an old outfit from 2012 and we threw together a costume for Derek, deciding he looked like Jan Brady when all was said an done.

We went downtown that night to see the festivities on 6th Street (an absolutely crazy party that spans several city blocks) and just enjoyed the sights.  We walked up one side of the street and down the other, taking in how many smart, funny, gross, interesting, and sexy costumes there were.  This was not the world of Wisconsin where people dressed sensibly in case it was too cold, this was a world of "hey, it's 7o degrees outside, let's take our clothes off."  We had a really good time; didn't go into a single bar or have a single drink but we still enjoyed ourselves.  Drove home, laughing hysterically and singing along to songs, bitching about makeup (it was Derek's first time in drag) and then getting some burgers before going home.  Next year will probably be better and I essentially already know what we're doing, but that's the advantage of time.  There was just too much going on to really dive headfirst into Halloween this year, but that's okay.  I lit my pumpkins and bought/ate candy just the same (c:



Mid-November saw the one year anniversary for Derek and I. We had a nice day, eating a fantastic brunch at Sandra Bullock's restaurant downtown called Walton's Fancy and Staple. After that we went to the Whole Foods flagship store and bought everything for Thanksgiving, then went home for a nap, a walk, and then Spaceballs Quote Along that night at the Alamo Drafthouse. It wasn't a big ritzy celebration or a super fancy dinner for us, but that's not really who we are. What mattered is that we got to spend a day together, laugh and joke and explore, and wrap it up with family and a couple new friends.

Tidying up the fall season (and this blog) was Thanksgiving. We had my brother Josh, his girlfriend Anne, and my niece and nephew over for lunch that day. It was my first time ever making a Thanksgiving meal and it came together pretty flawlessly. Forgot to get rolls but big fuckin' deal. The turkey was probably the best I've ever had (not a fan of turkey, as it were) and the gravy was amazing. I messed up the stuffing but remade it the next day with more goodies and then ate that for leftovers for the week to follow. I never know how to set a limit on how much to make!

After that we of course took a nap and then mosied over to my former sister-in-law's house for a second Thanksgiving. The night went by quickly and we played games and laughed to our heart's content, and it was just the perfect way to end fall. It started rocky, had an even tougher mid-section, but ended on a high note.




We don't get to choose the circumstances that greet us when we make big choices in life, I know this.  A tough decision is either met with tremendous results or awful situations, and unfortunately for me I was met with the latter when it came to moving to Texas.  But all's not lost, because I still have hope.  And that hope is what got me through it.  Best of all, I can already feel things changing and getting better and that's a sure-fire sign it wasn't the worst decision I've ever made.

Maybe in a few months I'll be able to say it was the best decision I ever made?  I dunno.  As usual, time will tell.

So what else happened this fall? I discovered Paolo was licking all of his hair off because of an allergy to the litter I used, Sophia can't see well in the dark and might be partially deaf, and both of them still hiss at Derek a lot. I learned what it means to partner with an HR representative, got new tires for Bernice, and ate Chik-fil-a for the first time ever. Got almost all of my Christmas shopping done in early November, started working on the final edit of Episode III, and picked up the paintbrush again to start making artwork. Took the last three months to re-find my center, to understand what I want in life, and to look forward with clear eyes once more. It's not easy to turn your world upside down, but if the ends justify the means I'm willing to go along for the ride.

How else do we learn?

Ciao for now (c;

my year of love

November 17th, 2014

Last year on November 6th I was spending the day working at Pottery Barn.  It was a sunny thursday, kind of warm but not really, and I was taking my break at Noodles & Co.  I was supposed to use store funds to buy gift cards for our associates for opening credit cards, so once I was finished eating I walked into the Starbucks next door, the one I'd been writing at for 9 or so years.  Went in, picked out the cards, and started chatting with the gal behind the register about something stupid I'd probably done that day.  Behind her was a new guy, tall, slender, with glasses.  He glanced at me a couple times and I glanced at him, but mostly just kept talking to her.  He laughed at something I said and I remember thinking "you're a nosey little one, aren't you?"

I went back to work and told Courtney about the cute new guy and then continued on with me day.

The next morning I went in for my drink, as was the habit, and this time he was on bar preparing the drinks.  I ordered and scooted down the line, checking on something on my phone as I did so and waiting patiently.

"Did you order a peppermint mocha?" He asked when my drink was ready, causing me to look up.  I smiled and nodded awkwardly.  "Found it!" He exclaimed as he set it down in front of me.

"Ok... thanks," I said with a chuckle, wondering why he'd said that, of all things.

Little more than a week later we went out on our first date.

Aaaaaand then a week after that we became a "thing."

It was November 17th, and that means today is our one year anniversary.

The "actual" first picture of us.  What a charmer!

I've written a lot over the years about my luck in love.  Or lack thereof, as it were.  I've fired and missed so many times since Ken that it eventually became commonplace to think it just wasn't going to happen.  Got close a few times, and certainly met some good people along the way, but I couldn't seem to figure out how to hit that elusive target of "love."  It wasn't for a lack of trying by any means.  Eventually I just kinda gave up on it and became resigned to the notion of "maybe it just isn't for me."  And it sucked, but for the most part I was also alright with it.

Maybe that's my personality type?  Maybe I'm introverted juuuuust enough to skate by the discomfort zone of being alone all the time?

Not that I'm proud of it.

For me, being alone always meant not having to deal with the viewpoints of a boyfriend.  There was always so much bickering and arguing over points of view and it was exhausting.  I don't mean that in the sense of "Oof, disagree with me and I'll just cut you out of my life!" because I don't mean it that way at all (have you read about those comfort zones popping up at colleges?  Gimme a break).  Different points of view make people think and evolve in all sorts of wonderful ways.  But I just... didn't like it.  And being alone meant everything was tidy for me, neat and in its place and never out of order; if it wasn't out of order, and if it was entirely in my control, then I was happy.  Does that make sense?  I dunno.

So in the end, I stopped looking for my match and then, all of a sudden, there he was.

My Derek.

On our way to Minnesota.

Things started quietly where I was concerned.  I was not going to be the one to scream from the rooftops this time around (not that he didn't deserve it), because I just didn't want to.  I'd formed a preternatural fear of anything that was too good to be true, so if I was a little more discrete about it then maybe it would last.  This logic ended up biting me in the ass a few times but I'll get to that later.
I didn't even really tell my friends about him right away because I was afraid I'd jinx it.  I wanted to get my own time with him without muddying the process with anyone else's opinions.  And that's how I know I like someone, because I won't talk about them.  I keep it hush hush because I want to form an opinion that is entirely my own and not influenced by others.  When I did finally start sharing and telling them, several were caught off guard.

How had this happened?  Why wasn't I gushing information as per my style?

It was because I was all wrapped up in him, strangely engrossed in the weird knowledge that every red flag he was sending up just weeks into our relationship I was swatting aside with professional ease.  And THAT is not easy!  Learning how to trust again was something I didn't think I'd ever know how to do, and here was essentially a stranger doing things that would normally make me run in terror but were somehow pulling forward even more.  I wanted to know him, what his story was and what the facts were.  And I wanted it now, now, now.

Valentine's Day

Quickly we grew attached at the hip, spending little more than a dozen hours apart before seeing each other once more.  The overnighters started and I fell deeper down the rabbit hole, coming to lean on him more and more as the holiday season at work grew increasingly more stressful.  Just a few days shy of Christmas, on the 20th of December, we made a nest of blankets and pillows on the floor of my living room and watched the first Thor movie.

It was the night I said I loved him, and then he said he loved me.

And then we were just two people in love.

Time went on... ideas started to form.  Should we take a trip to Austin together?  It had been in Derek's top five places to live, and we all know it's been my number one place to live for a very long time.  A vacation together was kind of a big deal, what if we bought the tickets and then broke up?  Toss that idea to the wind, we booked 'em anyway.  And come March, we went.

Hardly a moment before I asked him if he wanted to move down with me.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't have every instinct telling me I was moving way too fast.  Derek had essentially started living with me by Christmas, and since then we'd only spent the night apart when one of us was traveling out of state.  When we got back from the trip he officially moved in with me, helping pay rent and all.  To me, in my head, this was all perfect.  It was actually happening and quickly progressing and for every concern I voiced to him, he validated said concern and constantly gave me room and an option to back out.  Which I never did, of course, but he understood that part about me.  That I can make a decision with no problem, and then sometimes immediately wonder if it was the right one.

Shoot now, ask questions later!

As time wore on, things changed almost finitely in both of our lives right up until the day came to move.  All of the planning and preparation was finally put to the test and for the most part, it went as smooth as it probably could have.  In the back of my mind I maintained the thought that it was in my path of life to move to Austin, and it was in his as well.  And if he only came into my life for the sole purpose of being at my side to make such a move, then that was wonderful.  If we could make it through a cross-country move without having known each other for a year, we could make it through anything.  Not that I planned on things ending between us by any means, I just thought "if this ends up being the thing that undoes us... then it is what it is."

Because that's what I've constantly thought this past year with Derek.

If this sputtered out, if we sputtered it, I figured it wouldn't surprise me.  Because that was the story of my life, to not be the winner.  To go home, more often than not, totally empty-handed.  I've kept myself at a certain distance since I met him, terrified that the instant I let my guard down the seams would come undone and I'd be left exposed.

The transition for me living in Texas has not been an easy one, and it's something I've downplayed to most people.  Including Derek.

A few weeks ago we had a very real heart-to-heart and whatever I'd been hiding from him, whatever truths or fears I'd kept locked up, they came out.  Everything I'd downplayed about myself since we first started dating, or not necessarily downplayed but just... hid.  I concealed the bulk of the emotions I carry all the time because I felt like it was a sign of weakness within me, and when we talked, he got it out of me.  And it was good.

I used to see that internet meme allegedly spoken by Frida Kahlo and it said "Take a lover that looks at you like maybe you are magic."  I don't know if she said it or not, but I never put much thought into the statement.

That night, I suddenly realized that was how Derek has looked at me since that first sight in Starbucks.  Since that first awkward "Did you order a Peppermint Mocha? Found it!"

A kiss to the stars.

How over the past year he has stared at me with this glint in his eye as he waited for the next random thing I would say.  How he's put up my my attitudes and my mood shifts, laughed when I laughed and cried when I cried.  Dealt with my kinda mean cat Sophia, hogged the bed whilst knowing that I'd shove him back to his side every time, and let me pinch him with my toes because it's just something weird that I do.  A year of eating my dinners despite them usually incorporating onions because I love 'em, a year of watching whatever I wanted to watch on TV because he was always content with what I chose, and a year of being my sounding board when I was flat out being crazy.  And, in the end, a year of how he's looked at me like maybe I've been magic.

I don't like to see the good in myself.  I never really have.  I think to see the good in yourself then that just means you've got your head firmly planted up your own ass.  Do good things and hopefully the world just follows suit, you don't need to announce it to people.  You don't need to look in the mirror and say "yeah, I'm a good person," because if you do then you're probably not.  But having someone like Derek in my life, someone who constantly points out the good in me and the positive qualities in me... it makes me feel like I'm at least not a bad person.

He sent me a text less than a week after we met and asked if I had a favorite quote.  I told him I had two of them:

First was "be happy for this moment; this moment is your life," and then the second was "every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around."

I of course had to ask what his was, and he sent me this in response:

"I will practice acceptance.  Today I will accept people, situations, circumstances, and events as they occur. I will know that this moment is as it should be, because the whole universe is as it should be. I will not struggle against the whole universe by struggling against this moment. My acceptance is total and complete. I accept things as they are this moment, not as I wish they were."

Looking back on it, I think he must have known something... must have known how the year was going to unfold and what I'd eventually look back on to tie it all together.  It's just what I do.  Technology is a beautiful tool if you use it correctly.  By posting and sharing things on social media and keeping the world informed of the daily goings-on in your life, it allows you to relive those moments in the future should you so desire.  It has become the new normal for us.

Going through the words that filled the beginning of our relationship I can't help but smile at the giggly, blush-filled communication we both used.  Corny phrases like "I can't wait to kiss you again," "I can't wait to wake up with you everyday," "when can I see your smile again?" etc.  I don't know why we stopped doing that, or why anyone stops for the matter, aside from slipping into a sort of complacency in a relationship and getting comfortable enough that you don't need to remind a person anymore.

I need to start telling him that I really can't wait to kiss him again, hear him laugh again, or even just sit on the couch for two hours at the end of a long day and watch some tv together with our knees bumping occasionally.  I need to tell him that sometimes when I think about him, I get overwhelmed with the thought that I'm not doing enough to give him the world when he deserves that and more.  That my love knows no boundaries for him.

But I read what he wrote and realize now, even if he didn't mean it in such a way, that they were words I now see pertain to me.  I now know that each moment is as it should be, because the whole universe is as it should be.  I need to start accepting things as they are in this moment and not as I wish they were.  A year ago if I saw myself right now, I wouldn't recognize me.  Hair gone, new job, new city, new life.  I wouldn't understand how I could have done it by myself, and that's the point to all of this.

My family.

I'm not by myself anymore; now I've got Derek.  And that with him, whenever he is near me, I don't feel so alone.  I feel connected... I feel complete.  Like two halves of a circle, the sums of a whole, whatever you'd like to call it.  There isn't anything I wouldn't do for him.  There isn't any way I would or even could ever harm him.  He is the unequivocal love of my life and I'd never choose to imagine it without him at my side.  

It's a scary thing to wholly accept you've given someone such power over you, but at least I know that with him it is power held in good hands.

A person who has taught me more about planes than I ever thought I'd know.  Who got me to play Grand Theft Auto and actually like it.  Who pulls the silly out of me with his constant dancing in the kitchen, dancing in doorways, and dancing when he comes home from work.  A person who never shies away from a good hug, a person that gives a kiss everytime I see him.  Who showed me what it's like to love again, and to accept love again, and to realize that there are very good people in the world.  A guy who continuously pushes me to do better whether he realizes it or not.  His squinty eyed smile still melts my heart, his deep voice can on the occasion give me butterflies, and I think when it all adds up at the end of the day, his beautiful soul makes me happy to just be alive.

And to you, Derek Allen, know that this was all for you.  The final truths to the first chapter of our story, the "grand reveal" if that's how you'd like it.  Happy anniversary to you, pinkie toe, and here is to an eternity more.  I love you (c:

Toodles gang.

looking for a place to write

I will be the absolute first person in the long (not that long) list of people I know to admit I hold a particular disdain for going places I've never been to before, alone.

"Oh, is that clothing store the best one ever made and the prices are unbelievably cheap?  Cool!  Let's go together, my new job starts tomorrow and I have nothing work-appropriate to wear!  Oh, you're busy?  Yeah... me too."

"That new restaurant has the best milkshakes you've ever tasted?  I fucking LOVE milkshakes!  What's that?  Oh, me?  No, I won't go today.  I have no one to go with me... I'll just pour a glass of water and shake it real hard with ice and pretend."

It's not necessarily some debilitating affliction or anything dramatic like that, just a quirk I've always had.  And it's not for a lack of wanting to go to these places, it's just a weird fear of doing something stupid when I get there that'll mortify me.  Tripping through the door, not knowing what to order, or worse, knowing what to order but for some reason doing it the wrong way.  Going to the wrong side of the counter, dressing in a way that has people looking at me in a way that I wouldn't prefer.  You name it!

So today, in this oh-so-new city of mine, I have a new daily enemy: 

the search for a new coffeeshop to write at.

When I started taking a laptop away from home (my old Dell back in 2005 which was stupidly small and heavy but almost always trusty) I would only go to Barnes & Noble.  I was, after all, working on my book, and being surrounded by the very things I was trying to create seemed like the best idea possible.  Right?  Right!  Plus they served Starbucks coffee and I was always so proud to order some sort of Frappuccino because I was 19 and didn't know any better.  Regardless, I went there dutifully for several months until there was a weird sorta... altercation... with that bitch Carol running the joint.

For the record, I did nothing wrong.  It's a long story about this little terd with... okay, I'll just tell the story.  Quit asking already!

I have never ever ever been a person to show up at an establishment, mooch off 'em for the environment, and then leave.  To me, what makes me a good customer (in that regard) is that I always purchase a drink/sandwich/whatever to make my financial contribution and thus feel like they can't shoot daggers my way for hanging out for a few hours.  One day in particular I went to B&N and purchased my drink, then went to sit down beside the garbage can.  Because the store was built in the late 90's (or maybe from an oversight) they did not offer electrical outlets for people to plug in their computers and work.  It took several visits and some discrete snooping for me to find that the one and only power outlet was hidden behind a big garbage can.

So naturally I made it a point to sit next to this whenever I went, or at least in the vicinity so that if someone were occupying the spot, I could move to it when they left to charge my laptop.  The battery on that thing was crap and hardly last two hours.

There I am, having been sitting for no more than 10 minutes, when this boy comes and sits down two tables away but still on the bench I was using.  After a few minutes, he moves all of his stuff over and directly to the table next to me.  Keep in mind, I've got my headphones on and am working diligently, not farting around on the internet.  At that point you had to pay AT&T for Wi-Fi and I didn't want to!  Pretty quickly he gets his phone out and is pretending (I think he's pretending, at least) to have a conversation with someone about "needing to charge his computer because the battery was dead."  He's saying it loudly, and obviously, and I have the mentality of "Well I was here first and you can wait your turn if you don't want to ask if you can plug your stuff in.  The cord will reach."

But he doesn't, and I don't say a word, and after a few minutes he gets up and is out of my sight for a bit.  He comes back and sits down, headphones on, head buried in a notebook.  I just figure he's very odd but I keep writing.  Then Carol comes over.  Keep in mind, she knows me.  I've been going for months and she's always there, toddling around, and we've spoken a few times.  Her with an "Ugh, my job is so hard" attitude and me with a "I don't care but I'll use a charming smile and mostly genuine laugh."

"You need to move, he has to charge his computer," she says, blunt as a baseball bat.  No emotion, no smile, just a statement filled with exhaustion despite it being like... noon.
"What?" I asked, taking my headphones off.  Now she looks exasperated.
"You need to move, you've been here long enough and he needs to charge his computer."

I probably got stone faced because I hate confrontation, but in hindsight I feel like I had this incredulous expression on my face of "what the fuuuuuck?"  I remember looking at the Frappuccino still 3/4 full and the lack of ANYTHING that he could have purchased.  My patronage meant that little?  My loyalty to the B&N deserved that?  I blushed really deep, closed my laptop and looked him right in the eye.

"You could have asked," was all I said.  And he gives this big surprised look, as if to say "oh my golly, what happened?"  I stood up and packed my bag, with Carol and her big fat ass standing right there, and then she has another thought as I turn to walk away.

"He'll probably be charged in an hour."

I turned to her and in the (what I hoped) coolest voice I could muster, said "I won't ever be back."  If only there had been a complicated hand gesture, toss of the hair and smooth transition to putting on my sunglass as I said it though!  Failed opportunity!

And I never did go back, actually.  I hold a grudge like no other and that circus clown Carol pissed me off.  I finished my drink in the car, probably all moody and on the verge of tears because I'm that person, then went to Starbucks by the mall because I still had writing to do.  I went inside feeling unsure of myself.  I'd been there before, sure, but never to work on something.  Would it be okay?  Would they ask me to leave after a while?

But they didn't.  And it was perfect.

And it remained perfect for just about 10 years.  Eventually they all knew my name, they (usually) knew my drink order, and whenever I changed it they would guffaw and make fun of me.  Sometimes it was a free drink, sometimes they'd come and chat with me when they were on their breaks.  I finished writing Episodes I, II, and III there, then the respective (multiple) edits.  I signed a copy of the first book and gave it to them as thanks for letting me hang out.  I loved that Starbucks, y'know?  Smaller than most, with an annoying drive-thru and not much seating area... but I loved it.  It became a second home to me, like a refuge.

I started writing Episode IV there this summer but had to stop because I just didn't have the mental capacity to work on that, plus publishing Episode II, plus planning for the move to Texas.  What I liked about working at that Starbucks was that it was almost always cold inside (something about the air being kinda broken in there).  I could just layer up and sit for hours, tinkering away, because I am usually quite warm.  The music was never super loud and I always knew I'd be able to find a place to sit and work.  It was good people watching when I wasn't 100% committed to writing, and it was an easy place for friends to find me and drop in if they had a few minutes to spare.

So in moving to Austin, I had the notion that there'd be a million better places to write and work on my stuff that were as good if not better than that scenario.  Not that there was anything wrong with the other coffee houses in Appleton, I'm sure they were a dandy and a hoot, I've just always been a creature of habit.  When I settle on something enjoyable and safe, I settle for good (until someone like Carol ruins it (yes, I did complain to B&N corporate (no, I didn't get anything out of it (just satisfaction she got in trouble (I don't know if she really got in trouble (probably though)))))).

How silly was I to think that though?

There are plenty of places, yes.  But they are all places I have so far ventured to alone, because Derek is working and I'm nearly 30 years old and need to act like an adult.  Part of my search criteria comes down to convenience.  Sure, I can drive to wherever I want, but I'd prefer to keep it to 15 minutes if not less.  Because 15 minutes to get somewhere usually means 45 to get home when my writing stops and the traffic conveniently starts.  Then there's also what you're actually getting from these place.

I have no problem spending $5 at Starbucks for a drink I know I'll like, even if coffee snobs say "that's not a real drink."  If it's liquid and it tastes good then to me it's a drink.  And as much as I want to support local business and give back to the community rather than a corporation, they so far just kinda suck here.  I've been to three coffee shops so far and not a single one has been a hit.  A large iced mocha at each place cost $5, same as Starbucks, but in the size of a small instead.  I'm 6'4" and 230 pounds!  A small drink isn't going to tide me over or do diddly squat, puh-lease.  They are either too small inside and crowded, overly large and empty of tables, or just the right size but with the religious loonies that prayed for the barista while they were paying the bill.

I'm sure there are great places to find and maybe within the next 8 months of our lease (it was a 9 month lease, weird, right?) I'll find a place I love and then we'll move a little closer to that area.  Or not and I'll just figure it out!  But until then it's kind of sucky to keep trying these places and know within the first few minutes that it isn't going to work.  I don't want to be "that guy" that walks in, looks around, then turns and leaves.  Because even though I am 150% certain no one would give two shits, in my mind they are writing down my license plate and looking me up to judge me.

It's unfounded but true.

So does anyone else ever feel that way about going to new places?  Strike back if you do, I know I'm not alone.  I'll go any place new if I've got a friend with me to act as the buffer, but on my own I'm like a cat when they see the vacuum.  Scamper!

Anyway, all for now.  Back to editing Episode III at the lovely Starbucks I've found.  Ciao (c;

fifth iteration

Normally when I sit down to write these iterations, or really any blog, I am holed up in a bedroom or my office whilst typing in the dark and listening to moody music that'll inspire me to write something hopefully profound.  It's usually later in the evening, I may or may not have had a couple cocktails (to get the thought process flowing, y'know), and the cats are either sleeping on my lap, at my feet, or somewhere in the vicinity playing with a balled up gum wrapper.  Annoyingly.

This iteration is different.  New location, new sights to behold, and I suppose in many ways, a new me.  Thus marks...

THE FOUR YEAR

ANNIVERSARY OF

MUSINGS OF A SELF-PROCLAIMED AUTHOR

Four years of writing these things and I'm still working a day job!  Didn't see that one coming.  ::cough cough::

It's 82 degrees outside and sunny, and I am sitting on the wood deck/patio/balcony of Mozart's Coffee Roasters in Austin, TX.  It's just after one in the afternoon and there is a very gentle and incredibly pleasant breeze blowing off the water of the Colorado river directly beside me.  I'm wearing a white tank-top, there is an iced mocha just within my reach and, as of present, there's just a little bit of sweat rolling down the sides of the cup and but not enough to soak into the wood tabletop.  I can hear music from an outdoor restaurant on a pier 100 yards away, the idle chatter of people working on projects at the wood picnic tables around me, and of course the squeaks and chortles of the Grackle's that permeate this city.  If you aren't sure what a Grackle is, it can be found here.

To say this is a change from years past would be an understatement.  Many of you have been with me from the start and for those of you that haven't, you didn't miss too much.  But I digress!  I live in a place now that grants me the chance to leave the house and go sit outside somewhere in a community that thrives off of creative expression.  Sure, the people around me might just be working on school tasks as most seem college aged in a fun, hipster kind of way.  But others are a bit older, enthusiastically going over notes for some sort of presentation that will no doubt result in a pulitzer.

Just a guess.

I wrote a mopey blog a couple weeks ago about how hard the move down here was.  What was odd about that blog was how once it was written, I didn't necessarily feel any better about my situation.  Usually I can write a blog and let go of the feelings that caused me to write it, but this time it stuck around.  Only for a few days longer, it turned out.  Because once October 1st hit and the "first month" of living here was done, my attitude shifted.  Like Banning Sol discovers in Episode III of my book series, you only get so much time to be sad before you have to suck it up and make the most of your situation.

Come to think of it... oddly enough when I started writing the blog four years ago, I was using it as a distraction instead of printing out the first copy of "The Onyxus Chronicles: Episode III" that I needed to start editing.  Today I printed out the current incarnation of Episode III and intended on beginning to final edit, but instead started writing this blog.  Things come full circle if you choose to pay attention and that's something I've always been a fan of (c:

A lot of things change in a year... the creeptastic thing about the iterations is that I like to write about all of the things that are better for me at that point in my life.  Then, by the next year, they seem small in comparison to all of the new things to come along that are better.  Last year when I wrote this I didn't see a way out of my living situation, or really my work situation.  Not to say either was bad, they just weren't what I wanted.  The last thing on my mind was the "love" situation, because I've always had a certain attitude when it comes to love and how many times I've told it to fuck off.

It's true and you know it!

A year ago I was one month away from meeting a man that would change my life forever.  Not just in love, but in allowing me to follow my dream of moving to a new city and beginning a career I've had my eyes on for many years.  It's funny how things fall into place when you aren't looking.  And since things come in threes, the same held true for this last year.  I met Derek, I moved to Texas, and in three weeks I start my new job.  I suppose I also published my second novel but that's neither here nor there and one mustn't brag.

But I have been published twice before turning 30 and you can alllllll know it.

I've told you before that an iteration means something is continuously building.  Getting better, growing stronger, becoming happier, yadda yadda.  Basically I look more attractive now than I did in 2011 and that's the goal here, iszhn't it?  12,849 views in four years... 121 blogs written in total.  I thought I'd have pumped out more in the last year than just 21, but I've been busy and you can't expect miracles from a busy guy.  Life gets in the way, work gets in the way, and I suppose it'd make sense to have shared those road blocks but no one tolerates a Sad Sally for long.  Eventually Sad Sally's need to become Happy... Helens?  I'm still ironing out the kinks on names.

So what can you expect in the fifth iteration?  A new look, I'm certain.  Blogger has been a fantastic platform for me to put my work on but I think it's time I launch something a little more official and I think all of you would agree.  A little more polished and classy, not so cookie-cutter and "pedestrian."  Such a commoner word.  But really, the launch of my own website is imminent and as soon as I've made it official, I will be sure to loop everyone in on it.

In closing I'd just like to say thank you to everyone that takes the time to read me.  Books or otherwise.  I love hearing your thoughts and opinions and feedback, good or bad, and it all helps me to grow in my work.  I appreciate you as my family, my friends, and my fans, and I couldn't imagine doing this without any one of you at my side.  So here is to another year of musing, and you'll be hearing from me soon.  Ciao (c:

In case you wanted you read the iterations of years past:

The First Iteration

The Second Iteration

The Third Iteration

The Fourth Iteration

the "new" life

Wednesday was the first day of autumn, and like I knew I would I have an incredible longing to be back in Wisconsin.  I knew going into this cross-country move that, for the first year of anniversaries at least, I'd have a hard time dealing with the things I was going to be missing.  The nostalgia that comes with the change of seasons.  The first chances to wear hoodies and sweaters, the colors on the leaves changing, and the crisp morning air on the way to work.  That's why fall has always been my favorite; fall meant enjoying the best parts of winter without having the full onslaught of frigid weather and snow.

Right now it is 93 degrees outside and humid.

Is it weird to say that I still don't feel like I live in Austin?  I'm more than three weeks out from packing up the car and driving down here but it still hasn't sunken in that I live here and I don't know why that is.  All of my things are here... the boxes are unpacked and the beds are made, the living room is fully operational and we've watched more than a handful of movies and the entire season of American Horror Story: Coven.  I've been working, gone grocery shopping a few times, and set the trash and recycling out for the garbage men to pick up.

But it's not my home yet.

I know things like that take time of course.  Wisconsin probably didn't actually start feeling like home until I was almost finished with high school and that was because I still had a resentment and longing to move back to California, unfounded as it was.  But that move had not not my choice, and this was... so here's hoping it won't take seven years to get over it!  However, there is still a sadness in me that I can't figure out.

It's a sadness that permeates me in a way that I find hard to believe.  I'm happy with Derek.  I'm happy to be near family still.  But I'm also sad.  Why do you think that is?

Maybe it's my lament for the things that are now gone.  Maybe it's just being a little homesick.  I thought I'd cry most of the way down during my move, but I hardly shed any tears.  Saying goodbye to my parents was the absolute hardest part, and I somehow managed to keep a stiff upper lip while doing so.  Then the driving started and the cats were all over the place and freaking out, which distracted me just enough to not break down.  But even once they were locked away in crates and it was only me and my thoughts and the open road... I couldn't cry.  In a way I'm still waiting to cry.  I know it's in there, and I know it is going to sideswipe me at some random moment when I least expect it, and maybe that's when I'll finally drop it and move on.  I don't know.

Oktoberfest is this weekend back in Wisconsin, something I enjoyed very much over the last several years.  I would spend the entire day walking around downtown, meeting with random friends over the course of 9 or so hours and laughing til it hurt, drinking to maintain a pleasant buzz, and taking enough pictures to capture the memories of a great time.

This year I'll be working, struggling to do my absolute best and maintain a positive outlook and spin on things at my current store.

The key might be to just get out and start doing stuff here in the city, something we have not been doing yet.  The last year has been spent saving for this move and now that it's out of the way, I still find myself saving as much money as I can out of fear that I am going to run out of it.  As a result, Derek and I have only done a couple of things in town here.  That's also due large-in-part to how fucking hot it is all the time, but I digress.

There are things to do and see, places to travel to and explore.  Museums and theatres and concerts and cities, food and food and food, parks and rivers and lakes and everything outside and inbetween.  I just need to get out and do it.  I get to share these experiences with Derek which is more than enough... I guess I wish I was able to share them right away with some of my friends back home as well.

It's interesting when you move away from people.  You are sort of putting yourself into a forced exile, shuttering away from the friends and family that shaped you into who you are.  Willingly or not.  Some people my communication increased with, and others it has stopped entirely.  I'm unsure as to why that is, which seems to be a common theme in this blog, but there it is.  Maybe it's like a break-up period and you need to do things on your own for a while because the hurt is still too fresh.  Or maybe it's more of an "out of sight, out of mind" type deal.  Whichever.

It makes me feel alone.

The picture at the top of the blog says "We must take adventures in order to know where we truly belong."  I'm a firm believer that the answers to life come in the form of time and experience.  You live and you learn.  This move has taught me that change is always a good thing, but transitions suck balls.  The transition is the hardest part, moving from who you were to who you are.  Some things will stay the some, bigger things will change, and who will you be when you come out on the other side?

Moving to Texas is still a process for me, it isn't done yet.  It won't be done until I am working where I intended to work, doing the things I intended to do, and that's okay for now.  No one said it would be easy, but that certainly doesn't mean it has to be hard.  It has just been an adjustment.

I'll be sure to tell you first when it fits.

Ciao for now (c;

ps, the kid in this video is adorable.

the summer 2015 update

This is how summer started, with the breaking of a string.  The small piece of rope I'd worn for nearly ten years finally bit the big one.  I wrote about it once here, and if you want to know the significance of this bracelet I'd recommend reading about it.  Regardless of that it was a heartbreaking moment for me.  I decided not to put it back on, or to put on a new one, rather.  Maybe taking a few months without it while I settled into a weird "limbo" phase of my life would be just what the doctor ordered.

The true end of an era.

With the loss of the bracelet I decided to kick off this new phase of my life by cancelling the monthly updates.  That was first and foremost, actually; I decided it when I wrote the May update.  What I found by doing the monthly updates was that I was essentially assigning myself a chore and it eventually became a chore I just didn't want to do.  Whenever I force myself to write one of my books, whatever I write ends up coming out super shitty.  The same can be said about the blogs.  When you've got nothing to write about, how can you expect people to want to read it?

The answer is you can't.

So I decided to get back to doing the blogs I actually liked writing.  The random ones that could be sprung from an idea rather than a detailed daily recap that no one cared about.  I started with the biggest event of June, that being the release of Jurassic World.

In my JP t-shirt,
with lady Rex behind me.

Ever since June of 1993 I've been waiting for a truly satisfying sequel to my favorite movie of all time, Jurassic Park.  The Lost World was alright but Jurassic Park III was a festering turd.  I wrote about my feelings here in regards to this event, and with that blog I felt the "connection" once more to my work.  More on that in a bit.

I saw the movie a total of five times.  Which isn't that surprising because I think I saw the third one like three times when it had been in theatres.  We do what we do!  It was a great way to start the summer and a good way to release my anxiety, or at least leave it at the door every time.  Derek and I at this point were starting to pack things up for our move to Austin at the end of August and this was a welcome reprieve from the logistics of that.

It was also going to be a busy summer in general after Jurassic World came out.  @klreynol was flying back to visit for a few days, I had a surprise trip to Austin right after, then there would be a trip to Chicago, releasing my second book, the launch party, and then several going-away parties to boot.  Aaaaand of course moving time, something that loomed on the horizon like a gathering storm.  A storm of emotions and realities and everything else one could imagine.

Thanks Facebook!

However before all of that could come to fruition, on June 26th the Supreme Court ruled to legalize same sex marriage across the country.  I wrote a blog about that here, but only shared it once because as per usual, I didn't want to shove my gayness down anyone's throat.

That sounds dirtier than I intended.

It was my half-birthday on that day and it was a great way to spend it, knowing that equality had finally been achieved in a fight that had gone on for just way too long.  And again, I was writing a blog that got me thinking about my life in a different way.  It had me reaching back to the way I used to be and utilizing the knowledge in a way that was both creative and fresh.  What was odd was how foreign it felt to me to write something original.

I'd gotten used to writing the sequels to blogs.  The "monthly updates", "new resolutions", "# iterations", "random thoughts", yadda yadda.  The series of blogs I spent all of 2012 building into "musings of a self-proclaimed author" had become nothing more than a series of continuations and that meant the fun stories were gone.  I didn't realize it at the time, it's only now looking back that I am able to assign meaning to any of this, but there you have it.

Milk on the farm and afternoon joy with Barb at Big Blue.

At the end of the month @klreynol flew to Wisconsin to spend a few days with Derek and I.  Safe to say we had a blast during her four days in town.  The trip started with the celebration of a coworkers pregnancy in the form of a great BBQ gathering at her parents home.  It was a perfectly warm summer afternoon, with great drinks and company to bring it in.  After that, @klreynol went back to my apartment with me where she met Derek for the first time.

I wasn't nervous about whether they would get along or not, I knew going into it that they would.  Some things are just a given.  We went to dinner that night and the next day started out by going to "Sunday on the Farm" in Chilton.  I'd never been, neither had they, so we took a drive to see what it was all about.

I guess there was free cheese at some point but I must have missed it.  I certainly didn't miss the chance to enjoy some chocolate milk!  It was free milk and all you could drink!  We saw the cows and a cage of kittens (...) and a small variety of other farm animals, but largely it was just a "walk around this farm, don't step in shit, and then leave."  We had brats and burgers that were only a $1 and then the obligatory ice-cream sundaes.

The next day we mostly bummed around and then drove out to Waupaca to visit Barb at her home on the island, Big Blue.  Saw the chickens, fed them some tadpoles, and then it was back to Appleton where we had a dinner with our friend Brenda at Carmella's.  On Tuesday we drove down to Wisconsin Dells and went to Noah's Ark, riding the waterslides all day and then making the long trek home so I could make my specialty dinner (chicken parmesan and mashed potatoes, yum).

Do you see what I mean when I said it was a busy summer?

@klreynol left that Wednesday, I worked two days, and then it was time to hop on a plane and fly my ass down to Texas.

The little video I made for my brother.

Towards the end of May, my brother's girlfriend Anne reached out to me about surprising Josh for his birthday.  He had mentioned (casually) that his birthday tends to get overlooked seeing as it is the day after a major holiday (4th of July).  I agreed that it is the story of our lives, with my birthday being the day after Christmas.  So she wanted to do something special for him.  The video sums all that up, so go ahead and watch it if you aren't familiar with the story.

After that little excursion of watching the bats at sunset (in which they did not come out while there was still light) we went to dinner at a little cafe type thing and then went home to sleep.  The next day was arguably the funnest because we went tubing down the river in San Marcos for the 4th.  It was a bit of a nightmare getting on the river though.  We waited in traffic for more than an hour trying to get in just to park, and then we stood out in a field of rocks for another 45 minutes with the scorching sun murdering us.

The sunscreen I had put on my face (Anne can attest, she'd done the same) kept running in my eyes and burning them like you wouldn't believe.

We were also surrounded by hundreds of college-age jocks and their girlfriends, hootin' and hollerin' and slamming beers and anything else in arms reach.  It was like being in hell.  Or at least my own personal hell.  It was almost too much to take by the time we got on the bus that would drive us to the water.  Everyone but Josh and I got on the first bus, so he and I waited for the second and then when we got on, I had to sit in this weird sort of crouched position the duration of the drive and that was AGONY on my knees.

My river wounds.

By the time we got into the water it was the best feeling I had experienced in a very long time.  The water was spring-fed and practically glowing blue.  It was moving a bit fast but that was alright...ish.  Until we hit the rapids.  Now I'm going to go ahead and say that I am not a fan of tubing down the river and actually staying in the tube.  I like to swim around and be in the water and all that jazz.  A few wounds are a given.  However, when we got to the rapids I was unable to get back in the raft fast enough and got FUCKING ANNIHILATED on the rocks.  Look at my feet!  It's been two months and the gash on my right leg is still there (obviously healed over but still clearly visible) and you can't see the chunk I took out of my knee.  I could go on.

That night we all went downtown to watch the Austin fireworks from a bridge that runs over the Colorado river.   The show was kinda "meh" but it was neat to be downtown with the insane amount of people and to see how Austin celebrates the 4th (always one of my favorite holidays).

For Josh's birthday on the 5th we had a little gathering at Anne's home,with her family and a couple of friends to ring in the occasion.  We played some fun games courtesy of Josh's friend Andrew and eventually the day wound to a close.  Anne got locked out of her house and I had an early flight home, so it was a stressful evening but one that rounded out a pretty great trip (c:

At Ravinia in Chicago with Derek and @jillybean

Mid July saw Derek and I driving down to Chicago to visit my lady love @jillybean.  Ravinia is just north of the city and hosts these really fun "event" nights (check the place out here).  It's a beautiful park that is meticulously maintained and you can bring in basically whatever food and drink you want to enjoy during the show.  This one in particular was "Danny Elfman's Music from the Movies of Tim Burton," performed by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra.

The basic rundown is that they had arranged 13 suites of music from 13 Tim Burton and Danny Elfman collaborations, put to a combination of both concept drawings of the movies and then actual clips as well.  It was fucking freezing that night, as evidenced by the blanket and the people wearing jackets that we neglected to bring.  For mid July it was annoying.  But we absolutely had a wonderful time with @jillybean and ate to our hearts content that evening.

The next day we headed home and stopped at Ikea (my first visit since I was a kid).  All I have to say is 1.) wow, and 2.) I know where I'll be shopping frequently in Austin.

EAA with this guy.

Another first for me was towards the end of July when Derek and I went to EAA in Oshkosh.  EAA is a crazy event up here, it's world famous, and I know people have a good time but I've just never gotten the nerve to go.  Someone likened it to "a comic convention but for airplane enthusiasts."  Someone else compared it to typical Wisconsin festivals, except no one is drunk and there really isn't any white trash walking around.  The people at EAA come from all over the world, most flying their own planes in, and they want to see what the latest and greatest technology is as well as the old planes that are still around.  And they can afford the steep ticket price to get in (we lucked out with free tickets, natch).

Derek was in his element and it was nice to see because we are usually doing stuff I want to do.  He has a knowledge and adoration for planes and things that fly in general that it just amazes me.  He can rattle off information down to the most minute detail at the drop of a hat and I think that's very impressive about him.  I knew he could do it with cars and assumed the same held true in this regard, but still... I was impressed.

Now let's address the big elephant in the room.  My hair ::tosses hair, realizes it's gone::

Fuckin' animal on the floor there.

I suppose the big event on August 14th, aside from the book launch (below), was the cutting of the hair.  It was heartbreaking, yes, and I miss it very much.  I'm also kind of relieved it's gone and I'll tell you why.

I chose to start growing my hair out in July of 2013.  I'd just gotten out of my relationship with Scout and was having a really hard time bouncing back.  I was also seven months out of the Golden Year and couldn't rally myself to a point of having a purpose.  So I gave myself a dumb goal and decided to grow my hair out.  I had one last cut before I went to Austin to visit my brother, and from then on it was just trims and getting it colored.

After a year I was going strong.  I knew a lot of people didn't like it but I wasn't growing it out for them, I was growing it out for me.  I had my good days and my bad days with it.  I had fights with humidity.  By the time November rolled around I was able to get most of it pulled back in a bun and after that, I typically wore it in a bun every day.  It helped when I met Derek that he liked my hair.  I am habitually the kind of person that becomes hyper aware in new relationships and if a person says one too many times that they'd like me with short hair, I'll do it.

Guilty as charged.

But he always commented on how much he liked it, and at one point when I casually mentioned cutting it off, he urged me not to.  That's a keeper right there!  At the end of July I decided I wanted to color my hair brown in lieu of moving to Texas because I didn't want to worry about keeping up with the blond it had been and wanted it colored closer to my natural tone.

Long story short, it didn't work out.  And after three attempts by a friend to fix it, it still wasn't working out.  My hair was suffering as a consequence and after a "come to Jesus" talk with my stylist, I decided to cut it off.  Lifting the color after so many treatments was going to destroy my hair and I was going to end up hating it even more.  So we chopped it.

I admit the first cut was difficult to watch but then it was a relief to see the rest go.  Yes it was two years of work to grow it out but it was also two years I spent after moving out on my own to test the waters of life.  When I moved out in 2013 I did so with the curiosity of "can I do this on my own?  If I can, can I also move away in a couple years?"  Clearly that time is now.  So I go forward after cutting off two years of memories, shedding the past as I embark on a new adventure.  I'll let the color grow out and rediscover my natural color (I have no idea what that even is anymore (I'm not kidding either)).  Already I can see that my hair is much MUCH wavier than it had been two years ago.  Not complaining... not happy about it either.

Maybe in a few months I'll start the process all over again, albeit with no faux colors this time.  Let's find out how many grey hairs I have, together!

With my mom and dad celebrating the event (c:

The other big event on August 14th was that I held the release/launch party for my second novel, "The Onyxus Chronicles: Episode II."  I wrote about publishing for a second time here, though it was largely the same experience as the first time around.

I'd be lying if I said it went better than the first book.

I think the hard part I had of coming out with the sequel was getting people to care.  Sure, my family and friends did, but not all of them even bought it.  The excitement of "SEAN PUBLISHED A BOOK!" had magically dropped away and I think people just reacted to this mostly with an "oh, neat," kind of mentality.  And it's not that I can blame them, it just kind of sucked.  The attendance was much lower for this party than for the first book, and sales through Amazon have been much softer as well.  I am of course thankful to the people that did come, and also to those that bought a copy.  INCREDIBLY thankful to those that read the book already and loved it.

You make me want to keep writing more than you'll ever know.

I will say I had a very successful marketing campaign for a free copy of the first book in digital form, and that went over resoundingly well.  Celebrate your victories!  I haven't really had a fire lit under my ass to get moving on the final edit of Episode III, but I know it's coming soon.  Once all of this hoo-ha with the move is done I will have the headspace to work on it a little bit more.  Until then I can sleep soundly knowing that I publishing two books in two years and that ain't bad by a 29 year old guy.

So if you haven't bought it yet and intended to, prove me wrong and buy it now.  Come on, don't be a shit.  Just do it.

BUY IT HERE

Love ya!  Mean it!

And I suppose that's where I leave you?  Always here and gone in a flash... summer, that is.  A few blissful months in Wisconsin where you hope for low humidity, awesome storms, and a few days on the rivers and lakes before the wind gets colder and the leaves start falling off the trees before you're ready.  There's never much of a lead up to summer here, at least not for the last few years.  It's winter, and then it's spring for a couple days, and then it's hot.  This summer in particular it was hot.  The last week has been interesting and it's been kind of chilly.

Maybe it was the state's way of sending me off with a glimpse of the fall that I am going to miss so much?

In the end, I guess the rope snapping on my bracelet at the start of summer signified the end of my life here in Wisconsin.  Or my adult life, as it were.  I put it on when I had just turned 19, a few months shy of holding down my first full-time job at Express, and wore it ever since.  Relationships, babies, moving back and forth, new jobs, old loves, new loves, new cars, sad goodbyes, bitter hellos... that's what it boils down to.

SO, as I always have ended this (and why stop now), what else happened this summer?  I started saying goodbye.  Drove by the old houses, drove by friends houses, called a lot of people I hadn't in a long time and did it all in three months.  Let go of control of a few events, took control of some others.  Continued falling more and more in love with Derek.  Spent two months neatly packing my life away, finally updated the cats with their shots, and consolidated my debt.  Rode on a jetski for the first time in years, kayaked for the first time in years, and became a little more accepting of things I didn't think I could.  Learned to appreciate people for who they are at the core.  Learned to write people off that didn't earn that appreciation.  Had a job, got a new job, lost a new job, still hoping for a great result and I'll let you know.  I enjoyed a final three months in Wisconsin after 18 great years and I did it solely because I want to remember this great state at its best.

We don't have much time on this earth and what little time we do have, we need to make it count.  It's time for me to spread my wings and move on to something bigger, maybe better, and I plan on taking you all with me.  For now I leave you with the theme song to 26 Golden Things and subsequently the best year of my life.  It was the first thing you heard in what became a great story... I don't see why history can't repeat itself here.  I'll see you in Texas.

Ciao for now (c: