a summation of things

A couple of weeks ago I had a nervous breakdown.  I don't say it in a real light sense... not like "OMG, I can't believe Nashville might not be coming back next season!" but more of the hyperventilating "my life has no direction" kind of way.  Here, I'll explain.  Get cozy because this one's long.

I've written about my transition down to Texas in more than just one blog, and somehow along the way I lost sight of wanting to write about anything else.  I used to have such (in my eyes) fun and random stories to share, some thought-provoking and others funny and lighthearted.  The stories became different once the move happened, and while I still had the desire to write, all I wanted to do was complain.  Whine about missing my friends, my family, my old job, the heat down here, etc. etc.  It's no one's fault but my own that I decided to cut myself off from writing, and I"ll own it.  First turning the monthly updates into quarterly updates, slowing down with what came in-between, and then stopping all-together.  I can tie that into my conversations with friends as well, months at a time going by between actual conversations let alone even texting them.  My friends ask how I've been and what I've been up to, and suddenly the reason for our lack of communication is apparent.

I haven't been up to anything.  Nothing.

There's been no writing, no blogs and no books.  I haven't been doing new things (or old things) and I haven't been going to new places.  I've been working.  You can sprinkle some Book III editing in their as well, but I mostly go to and from work and then watch TV or movies with Derek.  And that's it; that's all she wrote.  Where possibly a million and one things may have changed for my friends that they want to share with me (and I'm more than willing to listen, of course), I have about a million things less to lay out on my own end of the line.  My big changes ended after I moved down here with Derek in September, switched jobs a couple of times, and then awkwardly landed on my feet with a steady determination to hobble forward.  I have not been happy.  I have not been loving it.  And admitting that lifts a tremendous weight from my shoulders.  Shoulders that have been busy barreling forward as I've kept my head down in the process.

Two weeks ago I was sitting at the very same Starbucks that I am right now, in the very same seat as I am right now, and trying to write the Spring 2016 update.  After a few failed attempts in writing a couple of paragraphs, I deleted my work and retitled the blog "when it comes to updates," intent on telling everyone there would be no more of that series.  If there had been a time for monthly, scratch that, seasonal updates on my creative and carefree life, it has long since passed.  Because I just don't feel that way anymore.

When I first created the blog I simultaneously created a version of myself to go with it.  Have you ever heard of the term Facebook Depression?  It's a real thing I guess, prevalent in teens and adults in a mid-life crisis, and occurs in people who see how great other's lives "appear" to be on Facebook, even if the reality of those lives may not be that great.  I started the blog site right before kicking "26 Golden Things" into high gear, constantly publishing essays and letters and talking about all of the amazing things I was doing with my year.  The persona of "Sean Parker; self-proclaimed author" grew and grew in a witty, funny, sarcastic, cerebral person that had real emotions and experiences to talk about and subsequently the lessons to be learned from each in turn.

You can chalk it up to being single and having loads of free time on my hands while living with my parents.  The writing came easy to me because I wanted to share my life with people, with you.  To put things out to the ether and stir up conversation, as it were.  Just two short years later things changed again; it got harder for me to write because I'd settled into a complacency of life.  And then the writing became a chore and something I neglected because it meant shining a light on how extremely ordinary my life was.

The Facebook Depression hit me because of me.  I frequently looked back on those old blogs with rose-tinted glasses, imaging my life was so much greater than it really was.  Don't get me wrong, I loved nearly every minute of 2012, but capturing lightning in a bottle is difficult at the best of times.  Re-capturing said lightning is damn near impossible, so instead I just kept trudging forward.

That isn't to say there weren't exciting things happening in my life, because there were.  I met Derek and planned our move to Austin and plenty happened between then and moving.  The difference was that in the harsh light of day, when I was sharing these events with someone else right away, the ability to be a writer and flourish the stories for comedic or dramatic effect at a later time was gone.  Not that I couldn't flourish things still, I just didn't want to write anything someone would read and think "Well, it didn't happen exactly like that..."

And then to share it with all of you?  That meant writing notes to recall the details later, and then force myself into completing what felt like a homework assignment so you could maybe or maybe not read it.  With a lack of comments on my blogs (ever) it gets hard to keep moving with them like you've got a purpose.  At some point you are just writing to write, though I suppose there's nothing inherently wrong with that as it allows you to revisit your thoughts at a later date.  What is wrong with it, however, is that those thoughts are coming out through a verrrrrry strong filter and that filter isn't doing you any favors in the grand scheme of things.  But I digress.

When Derek and I moved down here, and I achieved the biggest goal I've ever set before myself in that of leaving my world behind.  Friends, family, job, home, climate, familiarity, the works.  Right before we moved my position at the store I'd be working at fell through.  In the blink of an eye, every warning and red flag that could possibly exist was thrown up high in the air.  Like a referee at a soccer game throwing the red card, barreling down on a bunch of kids and screaming foul.  But at that point and being two weeks away from driving down, my mind was saying "well it's too late now.  You have to go."

Which the truth is, I didn't have to.

My job at Pottery Barn was safely intact and mine for the taking if I decided to stay, so that covers money and health insurance.  I'd have to move back to my parents home for a couple of days to figure out where I was going to be living (because I had given notice and my apartment was already re-rented), and Derek and I would have lost out on our security deposit from the Austin house.  Big deal.  Knowing now what was lying in wait for me once we got here was a thousand times worse than just bucking up and dealing with the loss of some money.  But none of that was enough to get me to stop the move.  One other fact was big enough though: the opinion of everyone who knew I was moving and what they would think when I didn't follow through after talking about it for so long.

In hindsight it seems like such a trivial thing but in the moment it wasn't, and I think it is only something you can appreciate in said hindsight.  Or maybe it comes with age... maybe turning 30 has finally made me realize "who fuckin' cares?" when it comes to matters of what will make me happy.  Knowing what I know now I should have just shrugged it off, flat-out said "the job fell through, but that's okay!" and gone on with my life in Wisconsin.  But that's not the way the cards fell.

Anyway, let's go back to two weeks ago.

I started writing the new blog about ending the monthly updates.  Deleted it, restarted it.  Deleted it again, went to restart it again, and then a sudden thought hit me square in the face, almost like a switch had been flipped.  And I kid you not, dramatic as it may sound, these words went scrolling right behind my eyes: Your life has no direction.

That's a hard bullet to bite.  That's a... shit-tastic revelation at the end of a somewhat shitty journey from who I was to whoever the hell I am going to be.  I had a hat on already (my hair is getting longer and I didn't want to style it, so sue me), and quickly put my sunglasses on because I was starting to cry.  And I turned my head and faced the wall and covered my mouth, squeezing the tears out and letting it all hit me at once.  Finally.

I never cried when we moved, I never got that real release.  The cats were distracting me in the car and I only choked back a few tears before the feeling in my throat had gone.  A few weeks after we got here, Derek and I were talking and I was upset and choking up and he told me it was alright to cry.  But I didn't want to.  Through every hardship we are born again, stronger and better, and I felt like this was true to me too.  I'd wanted this move for so long and so badly that I needed to just suck it up and deal with it.  Come out swinging like a champ, as it were.

But a champ for who?  For me?  Hard pass!

In my mind, admitting Austin wasn't for me, admitting the move wasn't for me, was a failure.  It meant I did not achieve one of my goals and that type of failure was so monumentally heartbreaking.  As I said before, I just kept my head down and worked through it.  Ignoring it was better than acknowledging it, and it made the time pass all the same.

So I texted Katie and unleashed a torrent of words and thoughts, some justified and some justifiably insane, and she talked me down from the ledge without being patronizing or giving me the kind of advice I didn't want to hear.  By ignoring it for as long as I had and not talking about it for as long as I had, I'd created this monster inside my thoughts.  My outlet has always been my words.  I used to put so much faith in them, my own form of church where I could put my thoughts out and repent for whatever sins they may have created in me.  But keeping myself on lockdown didn't do me any good.  It didn't do anyone any good.  Like poison in the well, it drained the life from me, from my relationship with Derek, and from my relationships with my friends.

I talked to him that night about a lot of things that had been bothering me, most of which were entirely beyond his control.  But being my boyfriend/best friend/lover/partner, he had a right to know about them.  But that's just Derek, and whatever damage has been done on my account can hopefully be corrected quickly enough because he's always willing to try.  It was the other people in my life I was worried about, and I decided then and there I was also going to fly home the next week.

I had an excuse to go back to Wisconsin due to an impending surgery for a loved one (that turned out to be something very minor), but it was enough to warrant me buying an expensive last-minute ticket and getting the hell out of dodge.  I've had dreams since moving away, of the people and places that were left behind in the move.  Wondering what they looked like, what they felt like, wondering if and how they may have changed.  Suddenly it was all I could think about, all I could obsess about.  I felt as if I was going back to reclaim the missing piece of my soul and I still wish I knew why I felt like that.  More on it later, perhaps?

We only moved twice when I was growing up.  Once was from the house where I was born to another a few miles away, and then once was from California to Wisconsin.  We went back to visit for the first couple summers but after that we stopped.  It was too expensive for the most part, and there were less and less people to see from them either moving away themselves or just from losing touch.  Facebook wasn't a thing.  The point is, once we left it behind, it was really left behind.  But moving away from Wisconsin was different.

In a lot of ways, the day I left I felt like I would never come back.  Not to visit, not to live.  To me it was the end of an affair.  Of course I had visits planned, but they seemed like pipe dreams because I was headed off to the promised land and I'd catch you all later.  But as time went on, I found myself longing for the familiarity of it all.  The weather in Austin only got below 30 a handful of times, and while some of you are probably thinking "HA! Must be NICE!" in reality, it wasn't.  I'm a winter child, I like the cold, and not having it meant not having a comfort I had come to know.  I didn't wear a single jacket all winter long down here (and we all know how I love my jackets) and compounding it was the fact that this was a warm winter for Austin and a warm winter back in Wisconsin.  Because why wouldn't it be?  The first winter after I move away and it's a mild and easy one, not freezing my garage door shut or stopping my car from starting.

I only told a couple of people I was coming home.  My sister so she could arrange a BBQ to surprise my parents, Caitlin so that she could arrange a bonfire to surprise Leah and John, and Stacey so that I could know who was working when I planned on stopping in at the store.  Otherwise it was all surprises.

That plane view

I was an emotional wreck leading up to the day of departure, and I cried a fair amount during the actual flight, hidden behind my trusty sunglasses and looking out the jet window.  Got to Green Bay at about 10:45am on Friday, got my rental car in record time, and was on my way with wide eyes like I'd never seen anything so wonderful as I41 Southbound through Green Bay and onward to Appleton.  I was like an addict, starved for the sights and sounds and smells of a place I used to take for granted.  Maybe it's because I have a freak memory and notice minute details but in Green Bay and throughout Appleton all weekend I was noticing differences.

I used to freely tell people how Appleton was a place that was easy to live in but a place where nothing ever changed.  That's simply not true.  Plenty of things changed, they just took a while to get there.  Perhaps it's as simple as needing to take a step away to appreciate something for what it is.  Like a rocky relationship, you don't realize certain things while you're on the inside.  It takes some sort of life event, some sort of preternatural force, to push you away and wipe away that elusive rose-tinted glass I mentioned earlier.  This fresh perspective allows you to see what was happening around you the entire time.

I feel that we choose to be victims of our own circumstances because it's just easier that way.  After nine months of being gone I was able to go back home and see how much has changed.  Old roads were new again.  Big shining buildings filled once empty fields.  Apartment complexes and house were not only new, but now full of life.  Was I a fool to think this wouldn't happen?  A fool to believe things would remain perfect and tidy in my absence, like they were hibernating until my return?  Of course, but now a fool made the wiser.  Perspective is a fickle thing.

My first stop was Tina's house.  The newest of my five bests (three years strong), and also the one I spoke to the least after moving.  There was no reason for that, it is just how life happened.  Surprising her at her front door was a success and there were definitely some tears shed before we spent the next couple hours talking and catching up.  I found myself sitting there and listening to her talk and realizing that I could no longer remember some of the smallest details of her life.  It was like they had never existed in my mind... hidden behind a veil called time.  She shared with me that a week before, she'd been on her way to the grocery store and was thinking about me and how our relationship had mostly tumbled into the sandy ashes of failed attempts before.  That maybe our story ended with me moving away... and that was it.  Then I texted her to ask about a phone call the next week (me setting up the surprise).

Tina and I

She was emotional when she got that message and let me know it, telling me her thoughts on the matter with no filter, as we have a habit of doing with each other, which I needed to hear and appreciated so much more than I can say.  Her words were a slap in the face as I came to understand several internal revelations.  It was no coincidence that the first person I was seeing was also the one shaking me awake, bringing me back to life.  Indirectly showing me that by keeping my head down for nine months and "shouldering through," I had forgotten the very people who made me who I was.

I felt such immediate shame, unbeknownst to her, and so much regret.  Regret that I had turned a blind eye to the past, and regret that I would have ever let my most cherished relationships get to this point.

I explained to her my thoughts on holding conversations with friends after months had passed, and how I felt like I had nothing to share in those conversations on account of my gloomy attitude towards life in the South.  She understood, of course, because she's my best friend and that's her job... but there was something more in it.  I'm reminded of a Chinese proverb, "an invisible thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, and circumstance.  The thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break."  She's my best for a reason.

Caitlin and I

After seeing Tina, I had a wonderful lunch with Caitlin and caught up with her life since seeing her and her husband Joe in March when they visited Austin.  Her impending move to Nashville draws ever closer, and we had so many things to discuss as we ate Mexican food and then walked to get some coffees.  It could have been just any other day for as normal as it felt, as if I was just off of work and putzing around with nothing to do.  The ease of it was heartbreaking.

We would see each other later in the evening, so I left her and drove around town for a bit.  I drove past my old apartment, through that neighborhood to see all of the newly constructed houses, and then made a stop for drinks at the grocery store before making my way to my sister's house.

Brynley, Brayden, and Belynn

I had some time there to catch up with my sister Megan and her husband Tony, and of course the three little ones.  Eventually my parents came and I succeeded in surprising them, almost sure my mom had figured it all out ahead of time.  But if she did, she didn't let on.  It was great to see everybody after so much time, these gatherings having occurred once every other month or so in the past.  My sister's kids had each grown so much in my absence,and it was a welcome relief they still remembered me.  I don't know why I had this fear they wouldn't, but there it is.

From the BBQ I went to Leah and John's house, surprising them at a bonfire.  As we four sat and chatted the way we used to, it was as if no time had passed.  That my greatest fears, those of being forgotten, were misplaced.  It felt like sliding back into a warm hug after too long in separation.  Conversation was smooth, laughs were frequent, and the smiles were wide.  I could have cried at any moment in relief, satisfaction, happiness, joy, or any combination of the few.

Leah, Caitlin and John

Sleep came easy that night at my parents house, the manor, before spending the next morning catching up and then making my way out to the mall to continue my mission of shock and awe.  Like David Mitchell wrote in Cloud Atlas, "we cross and recross our old tracks like figure skaters."  I sat in the rental car in the parking lot of the mall and read a book, waiting for the time to pass before going inside.  A woman walked by my open window, leading her granddaughter to their vehicle.  When I looked up at her I realized she was one of the secretaries from my high school.

Another piece of the puzzle seemed to fall into place in my head, everything continuing to make a little more sense.  That we are bound to our pasts due to a longing to somehow keep it in sight; at least I in particular can say I'm bound to my past, even if no one else agrees.  It is what makes me who I am, it always has been, and at some point I forgot that.  I wish I knew why?

I visited my former co-worker at Express, Trish, and her reaction when she saw me was one of the many that made my trip worth it.  She told me she thought she was seeing a ghost, a sentiment echoed by several people over the weekend.  I didn't take it in a negative way, as no negativity was meant, but it did strike me how it'd be so odd for me to appear that I must be a ghost.  It cemented the notion in my mind of feeling like I'd left something behind forever, vanishing from my home of 18 years and never to return.

When I left Express and walked a little further through the mall, I was standing in front of Pottery Barn.  Tracing my footsteps through the doors was like stepping back into a dream, conveniently and coincidentally on the four-year anniversary of beginning to work there in the first place.  I couldn't help but to think back on my first day at the store, not knowing what I was doing at all and wondering if I'd made a big mistake leaving Express.  I didn't know what the difference was between different types of cushion fill in a sofa, I didn't know what the difference was between Earthenware and Ceramic plates, and I was certainly too afraid to untuck my arms for fear of breaking stuff like a bull in a China shop.

I walked around the store several times, remembering the minute details and small (and big) instances of all sorts of things that transpired within those walls.  The good stuff.  The bad stuff.  The smell of the store itself brought to me a familiarity and emotion that was nothing short of amazing.  I held some great conversations and partook in some long overdue hugs, and then I was on my way again to surprise Mark.

Mark and I

Mark and I had a phone chat planned on the calendar because I said I had something important to discuss with him.  He didn't realize it would be an in-person chat until I was ringing his doorbell and he was screaming in delight.  We spent a few hours catching up on the back porch and split a bottle of wine between us, the hidden details of our lives coming out in stories that we only share with each other.  The connection was solid.  After a while we drove off to meet Tina and some friends for a quick cocktail before coming home to surprise Mark's husband-to-be, Markus.  From there it was another dinner of Mexican food (must have been the theme) and went to surprise Kyle at his bar.

He was of course surprised, why wouldn't he be, and our conversation was just as easy and immediate as it has always been for us.  Distance was never a factor in my relationship with Kyle, because it was built on distance in the first place.  He is one of my oldest bests, and whether he was living in Chicago or me in Austin, that connection still remains.  We didn't stay out long that night, I had another early morning the next day and the boys needed to get some sleep as well.

Kyle and I

Sunday morning I met Stacey and her little one for breakfast at Sap.  Stacey is who I've kept in touch with the most since moving, as we both get caught up in long texting conversations that can span hours.  She is also the person who kept me on the phone for the last three hours of my 23 hour marathon drive to Texas.  We caught up and chit-chatted about all sorts of things coming up for both of us, and really just had a nice time connecting.  After breakfast I went home to the manor, visited with my parents for a bit, and then it was time to leave for the airport.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't leaving Wisconsin as a different person from when I arrived.

Getting onto the plane it felt as if a visor had been lifted from my head.  That by keeping my head down for so long I had forgotten what I was really missing; interaction with my friends.  Interaction with the people who knew me before I was some self-proclaimed author, before I was a blogger, before I was a lifeless shell that had moved across the country in pursuit of something he didn't really quite understand other that it "being better."  All I can figure is that with moving to Texas, I simply planned on something and had every last hope in it, and it didn't work out.  My mind just couldn't fathom something not working out.  I mean, if everything else usually does, why not this?  What was that saying... "if everything's going your way expect shitstorms?"

I think what I needed was to see that everything was still there, in Wisconsin, waiting for me.  That no one forgot.  That no one treated me any different.  That it was okay if I needed to leave for a while, because it'd be right there when I got back.  There was always the underlying fear there'd be no welcoming arms... that maybe my friendships had been a sham from the start.  Unwarranted fears, yes, but still there.  I suppose at the end of the day I have a lot trust issues.

I was so scared to say I'd made a mistake moving because it felt like admitting to that was admitting to failure.  It took a little time and a whole lot of perspective for me to understand it was not a failure in the least.  I wanted to move to Austin before I turned 30, and I did!  There wasn't a note tagged on to the end of the statement that said "and live there forever and ever, happily every after."  The goal was simply to move here.  In hindsight I should have figured out what came next before acting, but I didn't.  So now what?  What is the next step?  I have a habit of writing out prophesies for myself and busting my ass to bring them to fruition, so what will the next chapter hold for me?

People are surprised when they hear me say I don't love Austin, and that's fair.  I can list things for a solid 20 minutes that can be done at any time in this city.  From exciting places to eat featuring ridiculous donuts you can't even imagine to the best queso to the best Mexican Martinis and onward.  From cool movie theaters to neat venues to bars that are run by hipsters to bars that are run by crotchety old ladies that know how to make a good drink.  From exotic exposed underground pools to floodplains to waterfalls.  But for a person that's always been a bit of an introvert and found a guy to date that is just as much of one, none of that means much.  I need to live in a place that's a whole lot greater than just the sum of its parts.

And it has nothing to do with work.  Work is great... the people I spend my days with are great, and if not for them I'd be a big puddle of misery on the floor.  But that's just a small part of the grand equation, y'know?

I didn't move down here to "finally be happy" or anything like that.  Living in Wisconsin had me being plenty happy.  But I would be lying if I said I didn't move down here to be happier.  Maybe my mind built things into too grandiose of an image?  Something that was going to be hard to achieve and harder to topple.  Somehow I did topple that image, almost like a picture from a camera that you moved your hand in.  Looks good for the most part but when you lean in to examine it there's something just not quite right.  And that's okay.  After going home, even for a brief time, it feels like having the key to my own mind again... turning it slowly in the lock, pushing the door slowly open, and allowing a little bit of light to bring my world to life again.

There are some potentially big changes coming for Derek and I in the next few days and I'll keep everyone abreast of the situation after it has unfolded.  But for now I'll wrap up with a quote that I shared a couple of years ago and I feel still applies today.

I am not what has happened to me; I am what I choose to become.

Ciao for now (c;

the winter 2015/16 update

I know you're all here for the winter recap and fear not, for I shall get to that shortly.  But first I need to get something else out of the way.

It can safely be said that this has been the longest stretch between blogs since I began writing them five years ago.  Now normally I'd be quick to apologize for that... but in this particular instance I can't bring myself to do so.  This comes about for two reasons: 1.) I have had a lot going on in life that has kept me otherwise occupied, and 2.) I've been afraid to write because doing so meant doing something I swore I would never do.

A retraction.

I know as a collective you've all just grabbed your pearls in shock, but unfortunately it's true.  I'm embarrassed about it to a certain extent, and to another I'm surprisingly complacent.  I know I shouldn't be but I am.  So what exactly is said retraction?

I am hereby cancelling my new year's resolution for 2016: document a year of my life by achieving 30 things I've never done before and recording them through blogs, pictures and video.

Would I have liked to do this project?  Yes.  A million times over, yes yes yes.  However, a question quickly overcame me after making the resolution, and that was "is this really necessary?" The answer to that is plain and simple.  Nope!  Let me explain.

Back in 2011 when I turned 26 I was in a really low place.  I didn't know how to be in a relationship and ruined a perfectly good one because of it.  I didn't know how to enjoy my life, so I worked at a dead-end job and succumbed to a boring existence of self-pity.  By embarking on "26 Golden Things," I sought to change that.  And I succeeded, ending my golden year with a firm grasp on who I was as an individual, what I brought to the table (be it in friendship or love), and how I needed to continue my life.

By wanting to recapture lightning in a bottle the way I did back then, it implied I was in as bad of a place turning 30 as I was turning 26, and that's just not correct.  This is compounded by the fact that a week after posting said resolution, I began working at west elm and everything just sort of... came together.  It immediately made such a project pointless.

SO!  Without further ado, let us jump feet first into the not-so-cold waters of the first ever winter update (c:

December's door opened with a glimmer of hope and it was the only glimmer I needed.  Call it the miracle of the Christmas season!  Presents for everybody!  My time at PBKids would be coming to an end in 29 days, and after three months (four by then) it could not come soon enough.  Those involuntary 10-12 hour shifts would be wrapping up and it was gonna be soooo good.  I already wrote before about how beat I was so I won't really go into it here, but suffice to say it'd been a long fall season and an even longer wait to leave a brand I'd hoped to avoid during my transition into Austin.

Some things just are what they are.

Finally a hairstyle again.

When December started (and really got going), I like to look back on it in terms of my hair.

Don't laugh.

Changes were fast and hard when Derek and I got to Austin, the most visible being that of my hair and cutting it off.  Then repeatedly buzzing it off throughout the next three months so as to get rid of the remaining dye in my roots and start fresh.  I got my first actual haircut on December 8th (albeit not what I considered a good one) and it made me feel a little bit like my old self.  It was the first sign that I was starting to change again, visibly, into who I used to be.

Anyone who knows me understands I like to a exude a certain amount of control, in my life.  With such short hair all I could really do was make sure there weren't any parts flattened down by sleep and then trudge on with my day.  I'm sure there is some sort of metaphor in that for leading a depressed life, right?  Look in the mirror, shrug, and hope for the best?  But as it began to grow, I could suddenly do things with it once more.  I was able to start shaping it in different directions each day if I wanted, and as that happened, my mood started to go in different directions as well.  So there.  Hair.

Around then I got the help I so needed at PBKids, hiring a truly wonderful person named Meghann as my Visual Assistant Manager.  She came in to the business ready to roll (despite less than stellar training on account of how short staffed we were), and still made the best of it.  I will never, ever forget closing with her for the first time and commenting on something she said by replying with "Party."  Meghann's response was "Okay, Adore," which not only meant she knew I was quoting a contestant from Ru Paul's Drag Race but that she had immediately become my new favorite person.

I think what had gotten to me being at the kids store was how much most of the people there didn't like life.  Either personal or business, I don't know, but it had worn me down so much that I just stopped trying to be funny.  And again, as many of you know, I like to be funny.  I don't always succeed but that's neither here nor there.  Meghann coming into my life was the thing I needed at just the right time, and I know I haven't told her that.  Being able to open up my portfolio of sarcastic comments, sideways glances, and witty banter meant opening myself up once more to the reason I moved to Austin.  I'd become so shut-off and closed to everything around me at that point.  It happened so gradually that was lacking a specific instance to blame and thus I hadn't been able to pull myself out.

She was/is so much like my friends back home, a wonderful combination of @markstyleme and @caitcd, that I felt like I was taking in a deep breath of fresh air.  As it were, Meghann became my first official friend in Austin (along with Jon and his wife Nancy, another PBKids employee that I can't forget to mention).  But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I had a new Acting GM come to PBKids and she took the reigns from me.  She and my DM gave me all of the credit where credit was due, turning over 80% of the staff (managers included) and keeping the store afloat for as long as I did, maintaining payroll and not totally screwing the pooch.  But really at the end of the day I was more than willing to give the keys over, no accolades required.  Then things got normal-ish at work, and then who woulda known, my life started happening again.

My tree; my guy.

Because there was a Christmas tree up, it felt like Christmas inside the house.  And that was it; the city didn't help at all.  Temperatures were usually in the 70's or higher and fuuuuuudge was it humid Austin.  That's not what I was used to for December.  I wanted snow, and cold, and my coats out of storage so I could actually feel involved in my favorite season of the year.  That feeling of lacking evaporated when Derek and I went to see Krampus.  Suddenly I was more than ready for the holiday (if you didn't see the movie (mostly about demons at Christmas) it was absolutely hysterical and loaded with more yuletide joy than anything I'd seen in a long time).

The Gingerbread Houses

After that I was looking forward to Christmas, my birthday, and the end of 2015 with wide eyes.  Derek and I kicked off what will now be an annual Gingerbread House Decorating Contest, each using the same kit but making our own creations from it.  I won ::tosses hair:: but for 2016 we will change it up.  Same kits, but we will each buy a ton of other decorating supplies, choose a theme to adhere to, and then put a wall up between us to ensure there's no cheatin' going on.

There were a lot of arguments and threats while we made those houses.  Mostly from me.

Christmas evening; drinks, games and treats.

Christmas came and went, ending up as a pretty joyful day all things considered.  I'd never been away from my parents for that holiday so I knew it'd be tough for me either way I looked at it.  I had a great phone chat with each of my parents in the morning, then opened gifts with my brother and his girlfriend.  Went home, opened gifts with Derek (he had to work in the morning) and then got started making dinner.  In the evening my former sister-in-law and her husband came over for food, drinks, and games.  And when the last dish was put away and the lights were turned out, I was content with how it had all come together.  Not as bad as I imagined it would be, and seeing as I was still with family all day, I felt good.

Then I turned 30.

My birthday gift of a tattoo.

Which was great!  Thought I'd go another direction on that, DIDN'T YA!?  Echoing Christmas day, I was fearing certain emotions seeing as I didn't have my circle of friends or the bulk of my family near by, but Derek did a great job keeping me company and I couldn't have asked for anything better.  Derek took me out to get my first tattoo in five years, and one I've wanted for about three years.  It represents something in The Onyxus Chronicles: Episode III.  The characters will have access to something called a "bionic suit," which is what the two black bands on my right writst symbolize.  The line on my forearm represents "the seam" of the suits, which the characters can push there hands into to retrieve certain items, weapons, etc.  It's science fiction, obviously.  When they do this though there is a mist that comes out, a different color for every person, and that's what my tattoo is for.

That and it looks cool.

My amazing Alaska cake.

After the tattoo we went home and rested for a bit, then went off to dinner.  Josh, Anne, Kelly, Justin, and my niece and nephew Mia and Gavin were all in attendance.  We did the meal then went back home for cake and ice-cream.  Derek whipped this cake out and I screamed in excitement, because it was quite simply the coolest thing I'd ever seen.  If you don't know who Alaska is, just click here and all will make sense.

It was a great birthday and a great way to do a flying roundoff out of my 20's.  Will I miss that decade?  Not really.  There were a lot of great things in it, there were a lot of shitty things in it, so cut the damn cake and move on.

In January I officially began my tenure at west elm.  Finally.  I'll absolutely admit that for the first week I thought I'd made a mistake.  Much in the way I thought I'd made a mistake when I left Express to work for Pottery Barn, actually.  Stepping out of your comfort zone is a difficult thing to do and that's what was happening with west elm.  At least at PBKids it was the same company, just a younger audience.  West elm is a totally different creature all together.  So to walk into a situation where I knew hardly anything about the product (this time quite willingly) I had a hard time.  I'm good at the "fake it 'til you make it" game, but that doesn't make life any easier.  What did make it easier was the friendliness and general warmth I received from the staff upon my arrival.

A lot of them knew who I was, or at least knew there was a new manager coming from PBKids that would be stepping in.  I'd met several people once or twice before, from both being present at a Holiday Launch meeting and for the day of a big visit with the company president.  What I especially appreciated though was that everyone at the store was excited to see me.  If not, they faked it very well.  But they were kind and light hearted and generous with information that I was so sorely lacking when it came to product knowledge.

And they were fun.  They are fun, excuse me.

I laugh so much throughout the day that going to work has nothing but a positive effect on me.  It's so nice to walk into a place and be greeted with smiles and quick-witted jokes.  These are my people, the creative types that have a million and one things to say about any topic and a humorous outlook to go along with it.  They are dreamers and do-ers, so many of them new to Austin like me and figuring it out as they go along.  They are each a wealth of information on places go, things to do, where to eat, and everything in between.  We tell stories and laugh and giggle and it elevates me like you wouldn't believe.  Whoever thought a job could do that?

It took a couple weeks to not feel like an outsider.  It took a couple more weeks to truly believe people harbored no ill-will towards me, something I'd gotten used to at PBKids.  And then after that... it became as easy as breathing.  And it was about time I had something as easy as breathing, don't you think?  It was hard for me to come to the realization I was finally doing what I set out to do so many years ago.  Back in 2013 when I wrote that blog saying "I will move to Austin and work for west elm," I didn't know if or when the day would ever come.  It was such a pipe dream.

But it has come true, and I do work in a store at the heart of a city, on the busiest intersection, looking outside at the great big sky and enjoying every moment of it.  I look forward to the opportunities I will be able to take advantage of from here, as working in this store opens the doors to a whole host of options down the line.  For now I'm content doing what I'm doing, learning new things every day and expanding my knowledge.  But I just... yeah.

I don't really have anything else to say about it other than to smile and let my eyes tell the story.

Mumma J and her boys on the left; me and my best on the right.

We did have a couple visitors as well, one at the beginning of February and one at the end.  Derek's mom came the first week of the month and was our first official visitor from out of town.  We weren't able to get off of work for much of Jackie's visit, but the time we did have with her was great.  I took her around town one of the days, walking for what must have been miles through parks, streets, and stores.  We all three took a trip out to Hamilton Pool at the end of the week and did a crap ton of hiking there as well.

Katie's visit was a little different, partly because I was able to get the whole thing off, but also because we did more hanging out than anything else.  When people come down here I want to show them what it is exactly that makes this city so special, and I think so far it's been good.  She and I just wanted to talk more than walk, haha, and that's just fine with me.  We did plenty of roaming around and as with Jackie, we ate more than enough food.  But that's the point with company, isn't it?  Eat, drink and be merry?

All of that combined is what rounds out the winter season.  I know back home in Wisconsin it's still very much winter, but as I write this I can look out the window and see not only green trees and growing lawns, but the white buds of flowers and the brilliant lime sprouts of new leaves.  It actually feels like spring, which is weird... I'm used to having spring for like, two weeks.  Then bam!  Summer!

And in regards to cancelling my2016 resolution, I do have a new one to offer up (a couple months late now, but whatever).  I put on a new swimsuit the other day and got a glimpse of myself in the mirror.  It wasn't good.  I'm pale, I've put on an uncomfortable amount of weight since moving here, and in general I'm just not in shape.  Soooooo the new resolution is to change all that!  Not with tanning beds and diet pills, of course, but with exercise and getting outside and doing stuff.  I took a before picture, and hopefully in a few months I will post it with a picture of my progress, and then hopefully a few months after that I will post once more with even more progress.  It sometimes takes a slap in the face (re: chubby belly) to spring someone into action, and I'm glad it happened now.  Full speed ahead!

So what else happened this winter?  I saw a lot of movies, Star Wars and Deadpool being amongst the most notable.  Smiled at a kid while at work and got scorned by the mother.  Got super sick in January, had a huge chunk of nastiness removed from my ear which cured my vertigo and motion sickness of the last year, and kicked the year off in a high rise looking over downtown.  Went to the Dr. Pepper museum, saw some cool animals at a small town zoo, and enjoyed whatever free time I could with Derek.  And finally I was able to wrap up the season by texting hilarious thoughts back and forth with @markstyleme whilst watching the Oscars, and feeling so much more like myself than I have in months.

Things change if you're a good person with a good heart, and I have no problem saying that about myself.  I was waiting patiently for things to turn around and eventually they did.  I had wonderful support the whole time from Derek, and I hope you see why I don't need to document another year of my life.  Because things are really only as bad as you let them get... and some times all it takes is a change of scenery to make it right again.

Ciao for now (c:

a new resolution part v

2015 has officially come to a close and as it does, it brings down the shutters on a year of transitions including but not limited to work and home.  It was a year of new scenery, new friends, a lot of miles on the car, a lot of laughs shared with Derek and a boat load of change in general.  Saying goodbye to your comfort zone is never fun but I made the best of it (as best I could) and shuffled onward.

A year ago today when 2014 was wiped from the slate I decided 2015 would be the year I finally moved away from home.  I wasn't 100% committed to Austin at the time, it was just an "anywhere but here" thing.  And to toss the usual disclaimer in there, it was not because Appleton was bad (in hindsight Appleton is quite perfect).  I just wanted a change.  By now you should all know that it took a few months of planning and saving but by September I had once again nailed a resolution to the proverbial wall.

That's my favorite part.

I typically would spend a few paragraphs right now telling you about what happened during the year, but I feel that for the most part you were all there with me so there isn't much point in going through it now.  This website is organized in such a way that you can dig right in wherever you like as the controls at your fingertips.  Overall it was a good year, that's the important part.  I am in decent health, I have my love in Derek, some money in the bank, and the rest is just icing on the cake.

When it came down to sit and write this up I had a few options of what my new resolution would be.  These varied but were slim in grandeur seeing as this year will be somewhat expensive with travel (vacation, wedding back in Wisconsin, etc.).  However, this year will also be fruitful in friends coming to visit me in Austin.  So seeing as this is the fifth time I've put thought into my resolution I figured it's time I upped the ante once again.

For 2015 I vowed to move out of Wisconsin and, well, I totally did that.  Not ready to move again!  In 2014 I wanted to become a published author, and I did that as well.  Successfully, I might add; old news!  For 2013 the goal was to move out on my own, which I've now done and can't really do it again, so that's nixed.

And that leaves my 2012 resolution of aiming for 26 golden things.

It strikes me as I get ready to begin my new career at west elm that I don't have anything to inspire people with.  It's a company built on the prospect that the people who work there are creative, intellectual, and always shooting for the stars in their personal lives.  Yes I've documented a year of my life, yes I've published a couple books, but that's in the past.  What have I done lately aside from move across the country and work at a job that drained me both emotionally and physically?  Not a whole fuckin' lot.

I realize lately more and more how I find myself adrift down here in Austin, without much purpose.  I didn't used to be like this... even six months ago I had a determination, will and sheer desire toward a goal that was so strong I can't even fathom it now.  But it's never too late to change, and it's certainly never too late to take the reigns back in your hands.  Without further ado, I give you the 2016 new resolution:

Document a year of my life, achieving 30 things I've never done before, and recording it through blogs, pictures and video.

It's a lofty goal but it's one I need in order to push myself.  To get out of the house, to get into the city, and to make life taste sweeter by doing the things available at my fingertips.  And I'm terrified, let's get that out of the way right now.  Terrified much in the same way as I was when I decided in 2012 what I was going to do for that year.  There's a particular fear of failure that I can't quite wrap all of this up within 365 days, and as I've said before, I try to impress myself before I go impressing anyone else.

Really it boils down to a year of 30 mini resolutions... step by step actions that will result in (hopefully) a better person.  I haven't made a list yet, I haven't mapped out if this will be a story or a big music video like last time.  Should I include more of something, less of another?  I think this time I'll include you people (the ones who viewed "26 Golden Things"), and solicit your input.

The best ideas are borrowed!

To go hand in hand with this new project, as yet untitled, I am going to aim to write better material for you to read.  I used to write really great blogs (just go with it).  They were both thoughtful and insightful, witty and flat out funny.  I feel like the only reason I don't anymore is because for the most part, I'm happy now.  And that makes me sad... sad that I was sad at the time and sad that I lost it when I wasn't anymore.  That was a tornado of a sentence and you're welcome.  I can't believe sadness is what it would require to produce work like that again... I refuse to believe I won't be able to parlay my happiness into crafting well-constructed pieces of work instead.  I think what it boils down to is over the last year I've just been flat out lazy and I'm going to rectify that.

So here's to not being lazy anymore!  Here's to 2016, memory cards,a  video camera, a smaller kinda shitty camera, iPhone's that are always on hand, and willing participants whether they are truly willing or not.  Let's make it big, let's make it grand, let's make a new movie!  And what better way to kick it off than to choose a new anthem for the year, much as I did in 2012?  If the Naked and Famous had a new album right now I'd take a song from it, but alas, they do not.  So I will use this puppy as it fits my needs despite being a couple years old and I think the message is clear.

"If you close your eyes, does it almost feel like nothing changed at all?"

In short, yes.  But the point of this project, and this year in general, is to show what has changed.  Let's find out together, but I have a sneaking suspicion it's me.

Ciao gang (c:

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;