Cause growin' up IS hard...

"Seriously, it's not you. It's me..."

A co-worker told me I looked "very grown up" today. And she was right. I can admit that I do look quite cute and professional today. More than that, I look like a woman who shouldn't be insulted if someone guessed her age as 30. And I suppose this might all be a good thing.

Not only is growing up hard, it's weird. And I mean, It is time, I guess... I've been doing very grownup things lately, having grownup discussions, and planning a grownup life. It's liberating but then again extremely frightening. It's like, I know in the back of mind that once I give in to adulthood, accept that I'm old, that there is no going back. And I don't know how to feel about that. Part of me wishes I was back in kindergarten. Another larger part is looking at my childhood and screaming, "Good riddance!"

I know everyone is like, "26 is not old" but it kinda is. I'm still usually the youngest in the room but I'm far from being the baby. And while I love to be taken care of by the people around me, I find myself wanting or craving that treatment less and less. These days I look to my friends for conversation and motivation, the parents and guy for hugs and kisses, and the little sis- well now my main concern is to make sure I offer her the same things that were offered to me- at the least. But again, being taken care of is no longer a concern. I can take care of myself. I work my own job, pay my own bills, make my own doctor's appointments. I'm excited about marriage not because I finally have a man to make my world right, but because I'm excited to finally have a man to share my good life with. I have fantasies about cooking my guy breakfast, sending him to work with a snack, secretly replacing the cologne he left in a hotel bathroom while on business... I daydream about coming home to my parents house bearing gifts at Christmas, taking my dad out to lunch and sending my mom a bit of cash in the mail just because... I can't wait to visit my little sis at her own place after dropping the kids off at granny's so we can tire ourselves out after only 15 minutes of the Michael Jackson Experience. The thought of my dad and husband taking turns trying to teach my son how to throw a football makes my face hot and almost brings tears to my eyes. *deep sigh* Closing on our first home, snapping pics with my sis at her master's graduation, being introduced at my new job as the boss, explaining to my 3 year old daughter that she's not white, she's just light skinned, lol. These things make me smile.

And then I see myself holding my husband or him holding me during the loss of a loved one. I imagine him squeezing my hand tight while the doctor delivers some unfortunate news. I see us praying together...me storming off after a fight, him not chasing after me for a change. I see business ventures falling through, disintegrating friendships, spiritual setbacks. But I see myself handling these things.

I see life, the good and the bad, and I look forward to it all. I look forward to watching my parents grow old all I while I petition God for their immortality. I look forward to late night catch ups with the BFF, screaming matches and late night snacks with the hubby, business trips to Europe, and family vacations at the beach.

Simply, I look FORWARD. And because of this, even though I hesitate, I understand the necessity of and am finally ready to let go of the past.

*deep sigh*

I'm coming...

It's Friday. I'm at work. Staring at GAP (giant ass pine tree). I'm wishing I was somewhere else... the Beach. At one point after wanting something for so long do you just go out and get it? How long do you weigh the pros and cons before you realize that the good totally makes all the bad worth it?

I've been struggling with Beach for so long now. Should I go? Should I stay? Will I need extra protection?

Beach is a volatile mecca of amazing. It's insane, unpredictable and fickle. You never know if you're going to walk into cool breezes and gentle waves or sweltering heat and a tsunami. It's burned me before ya know? The last time I saw it, it promised me a mellow afternoon alone with grainy goodness between my toes and a fruity cocktail in my hand. Instead, I got ratchet boom box music, crowded sand, and weird guys with visible butt cleavage offering me their last Bud Light. The time before that, it presented me an image of bright sun and warm waters. What I got was wind that wouldn't quit and water too cool to even stick my feet in.

Nevertheless, I still long for it. Even at it's worst, it brings out the best in me. I miss it. From childhood to as recent as the past couple of years, some of my fondest memories are anchored there. Inner tubes and floaties with the family, bikini pics and sandcastles with friends- I've even had one of those classic, heart wrenching strolls in the sand. And even though I don't see it very often, something inside of me tells me it's where I've always supposed to be. Something inside of me also tells me I should grow dreadlocks, smoke weed, and paint water color portraits on the side of the road for food...but I'm fighting this.

I'm going to do it. I've got a move coming up and I'm going to focus all my attention there. Some of my friends won't like this. My mother may not approve. But eventually they'll see how happy I am, the calmness that it brings me. Just thinking about it now is bringing a wash of serenity over me. I'm not sure about too many things right now but this is one daydream that just won't quit. The East Coast is calling me and I'm going to answer...very, very soon.

Happy Friday. Hope you're getting ready to go live the good life...or at least making plans to :).

I Brake for Love

I just erased an entire post on love. It was this epic, poetic ode to all that the incredible emotion brings to mind. Once I read it back to myself, I realized that I in no way did the topic justice. For the first time, I'm kinda speechless when it comes to this. So instead, I've decided to post Ray LaMontagne's Shelter, one of my favorite love songs- ever. It really is worth listening to, well at least I think so.

I have this thing I do where I listen to love songs and cry like there's no tomorrow and imagine that my boyfriend (I'm using the term boyfriend as just a generalization for significant other) is singing them to me or that he wrote the words about me. I know right...but I'm such a hopeless romantic, I can't help it. And yes, I have a boyfriend... ... ..... .................... .... ... Ok, so he's not exactly a real person physically, but he's stil totally real. I've been in love with him for as long as I even knew what love was. He's been there through every heartache and breakup, all the tough stuff, even the things I made myself forget. In the words of Ray LaMontagne, he shelters me. After tough days at work, I totally dive inside myself and find him there waiting for me. When I cry, he wraps me in a ball and shields me from the world. When I laugh, I peak through my squinted eyes to see him staring at me, just taking it all in like it's his air. When I'm wrong, he patiently and gently chides me. When I'm erratic and anxious, he makes me sit still and breath. When really bad things happen that break my spirit or confidence, he inhales my presence and tells me that not only I am I still beautiful, but most importantly that he still finds me beautiful. He's insightful enough to know that that small detail makes all the difference. His voice is a deep rumble that brings peace to my soul. Yep, I am totally and utterly smitten and one day I'll be able to return the favor and be to him what he has been to me. Whether he's a stranger I've yet to meet, or he's the guy sitting on the other end of my line right now, the moment we finally meet will be unforgettable. And by meet, I mean the moment I we both realize that the other is the one.

Yes, I believe in The One. I totally believe in soulmates. I used to try and downplay this. Some of the real boys I dated just thought I was silly or naive. Others pretended to believe as a tactic to get in my pants. I tried to play a cynic. I pretended to have a healthy balance of logic and emotion. I realize now that by doing that, I'd done a great disservice to myself. I don't really care about logic or rationales. I believe in making wise decisions and learning from your mistakes, but most importantly I believe in following my heart. Life is too short not to.This is not for everyone though. People are unique and are ruled by different powers. Some peopled are ruled by their minds, intellect. Some people are ruled by lust, whether it be of the eye or of the flesh. Me? I must agree with the Song of Solomon that says, "love is more powerful than death, passion fiercer than the grave..."

In the end, I'm expecting one of two outcomes for myself. Either I truly will live mostly happily ever after with the man created to fiercely love and be loved fiercely by me, or I will be institutionalized for a personality disorder.

Either way, I see myself being heavily medicated blissfully happy. And that is good enough for me. :)