No words

Something happened to me recently that hasn’t quite ever happened to me yet — I got into a car accident. An honest-to-goodness, I’m-so-happy-to-be-alive car accident. Like a real one. Just sitting here typing it in my old bedroom at my parents’ house is giving me the shivers. I’m still not quite sure how to process it, and it probably didn’t help that it happened on a Friday and therefore I am having to wait until the next business day (tomorrow, Monday) to find out the fate of my beloved car. That’s three full days of uncertainty and anxiety. Yesterday when my dad and brother picked me up to bring me back to the house, I was having panic attacks in the car, especially when we had to basically return near the scene of the trauma to retrieve my belongings from the towing yard. My body also decided to crap out on me yesterday, and I was utterly sore all over, especially up and down the left side of my body. I also found small bruises on my shoulder and leg. So I guess I wasn’t as “a-OK” as I told everyone on Friday.

Today wasn’t as bad. I haven’t bawled over yet in misery. I was able to walk around without putting my left arm into another makeshift scarf-sling. I also was able to not leave the house and remained comfortably at home. I’m supposed to be going back to work tomorrow, but the idea of actually returning to the scene of the trauma is too much, so I’m probably going to tell them fuck no.

Not sure where life is leading me now. I’m feeling all of a sudden way off the path.

You can’t have it all

If there’s one thing I’ve learned this year in 2015, it’s the above. In fact, this may well be the story of my mid-twenties. I’m no longer the energetic, invincible wild spirit I was when I was 21 and gallivanting around Costa Rica. How is it possible that just five years can make that much of a difference in a person? Am I just maturing? Growing? Dying? Slowly losing my life synergy?

I remember one weekend in Tortugero, Costa Rica, when a couple friends and I suggested to our group that we sleep for the night in the hammocks. Several girls flat out refused, saying they needed their sleep (in beds) because if they didn’t, they would be awful bitches in the morning (well, kudos to them for being honest at least). I, on the other hand, thought sleeping overnight in hammocks would be an amazing idea. So I did it. Lack of sleep? Poor positioning? Meh, who cared!

And now? Well last Saturday I went out to Rosemont with a few friends and my brother, and when the DJ kicked everyone off the dance floor promptly at 3 in the morning, I took it as a sign to leave. My bed had been calling me that night since probably 10 p.m., actually. But of course, it took ages to round everyone up and to get them out the door. I was a raging lunatic by the time 4 a.m. hit and we still had not gotten to the car.

This is gradually applying to every aspect of my life. At work, I’m starting to realize that I can’t do everything all by myself and that the sooner I admit it, the better off I would be. Here, at home, in my kitchen at my makeshift desk, I’ve got piles of receipts and bills and printouts and mail to organize, write down, follow up on, etc., but I’ve given up hope of ever trying to manage them all in one night like I used to be able to do.

When you’re younger—from childhood to young adulthood—life is about exploring everything and doing everything. I took that and I embraced it fully, hardcore. So I guess learning that when you get older, the trick now is to be selective and to prioritize the things in your life, it was hard to accept because it goes against everything I embodied just several years ago.

You can’t have it all and you can’t do it all. So the things you do have and you do do—you be the best, most baddest bitch at ’em.

Six

Six years ago today, I bought my very own domain for the very first time. I set up a new blog. I had decided to “try out this WordPress thing” after manually making my own websites for years. I was a junior in college, busy doing things like socializing (or partying, as college students are wont to do) and trying to make it through classes. It’s funny when I think about those early days. My life was so different back then, and yet I still feel like I’ve only been at this for a couple of years.

Today, I am in the midst of packing up all my things and finally moving out of my parents’ house. Yes, that’s right. After four years of living the post-college life comfortably (and sometimes not-so-comfortably) ensconced in the company of my family, I’m finally getting out and living in the great city of Chicago. I don’t know if this is something that happened all of a sudden (because it sure feels like it, although I guess it’s been a few weeks now since I signed the lease) or something that I can proudly say is the culmination of hard work (because I wrote back in January in my journal that I would move out this year), but all that matters is I’ve made a move and am making progress in my life and finding new challenges to tackle head on (because I know this won’t be easy on my precious bank accounts).

I’ve got so many plans (I know, I know—I’m seriously a broken record) but to think that next week, one of my grand plans will finally be moving into action…it’s so amazingly satisfying and thrilling.

Look to hear more from me soon.

I went old school

Why yes! It’s my first post of 2015. Can you believe it?! I’m still here! I’m still alive.

I actually have a very good reason for my latest lengthy absence. Namely, I’ve started writing in an actual journal again.

A real journal!

I received this bad boy from my cousin for Christmas, and at first I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with it—I mean, who actually physically writes down their thoughts anymore? Then I said to myself, Oh what the heck. I decided to bring the book with me on the sojourn to Miami at the beginning of January, and began writing promptly on the plane ride. It actually turned out to be a pretty cathartic writing session. And then I kept writing throughout the trip.

Nearly 3 months later, I’m still writing in it. It’s become my new best friend.

I wrote in it!

So if you’re curious as to what I’ve been up to these past few months (and I’m sure there’s many of you out there…or not), all the juicy stuff is in there. And there was a lot. In addition to Miami, I also went to New Orleans in February for Mardi Gras (my poor liver) and Seattle at the end of February for fun (again my poor liver). Three trips across the U.S. of A. in the span of two months—it was definitely quite the record for me.

Taking over Mardi Gras 2015

For 2015 my social life somehow decided to reinvent itself and I’ve become, instead of a 21-year-old outgoing party girl…a, well, 25-year-old outgoing FUN girl (I say fun because swigging wine at friends’ apartments have replaced the nightclub parties I attended as a younger 20-something). Work has been…well that’s another story. My love life is another story as well. It’s all in the journal now!

At any rate, I don’t plan on giving up this blog anytime soon. In fact, I’ve got plans (like I always do). But this time I hope to follow through on everything I’ve been planning the past year or so. Shit’s getting real.

Peace ya’ll.

Just keep swimming, or so they say

Mixed emotions about things right now. Life is exciting, but at the same time it is kind of just barely afloat. An “exciting” thing is happening to me (or rather, my nonexistent love life), per the opinion of my girl friends, but I am feeling incredibly apprehensive about it I’m surprised I haven’t vomited my anxiety out yet.

The quarter-life crisis has waned a little since my moment of panic in May. But at the same time I think it’s just been abated due to the hectic craziness that is summer. After all, what is going to happen when all the kiddos go back to school and it’s too cold to be doing things outdoors? (Although, come to think of it, it’s been bloody cold [relatively speaking] all summer in Chicago, fuck you January polar vortex) I’m just going to have to re-face the reality that is my current twentysomething state: stuck in a job that I love but does not pay enough, stuck in a house with a family that I love but is driving me crazy, stuck in a town with people and things that I love and are familiar with but at the same time feeling jaded. Huh.

To make matters worse, my 25th birthday is coming up. That’s my golden birthday, mind you. I don’t know how to feel about it. I don’t like setting high expectations for things because ultimately in the end they are never reached, but at the same time I don’t want to be feeling so depressed on my golden birthday. I guess I’m just sad because I know this birthday won’t be like my last one. Maybe it’ll be fun (I’ve plans to go paintballing [!] and attending Chicago Comic Con [!!]) but it will most definitely not be the same because my last birthday was the only birthday I got to spend with a certain someone. And this year I will certainly feel the heavy weight of his absence from my life. Gahh.