December 21, 2012 is the end.

Can’t stop listening to this today.

For almost a year now, most of us have been looking toward Dec. 21 with caution, though I doubt most people believe the world will really end.

I think people like to believe, as it unites strangers. Now a days, faith in something other than religion is almost impossible. No, the world won’t explode, but that day everyone will think twice about “what if.”

To me, this day so near the end of 2012 is a snapshot of how so much of my year was spent: throwing cation out the window and indulging in what I wanted to. YOLO, Carpe Diem, Live Like You’re Dying, whatever the phrase, that was my mentality.

In another view, life without consequences.

December has been daunting this year. I am anxious for it to come, only because I am anxious for it to be over. December 2011 left so many bad and distinct memories: the nights in New York, saying “goodbye” at the Amtrak station, going through the motions during Christmas, spending most of New Year’s night locking myself away in a bathroom.

After December, so much of the details were lost as hollowed myself as a person. I remember major things, but the timeline, the effects, the general progression is unclear. I don’t really want to remember. The unforgettable good memories are just colorful pieces that occasionally reveal themselves from the grey spiral shit show of things that were wrong.

I guess I’ve come to the conclusion, that all these coincidences lately are just a sign I’m on the right path. I’ve applied meaning to life again. Things that happen aren’t just isolated instances, that happen for no reason. I saw “The Life of Pi” over the weekend, and one of the few lines that stood out were, “Does it have to mean anything?”

It can if you want it to. Back then, I didn’t want it to.

After Doomsday (coincidentally exactly 8 months prior to Dec. 13 – the last big milestone of 2012), concerned friends asked me repeatedly, “Are you sure you’re okay?” Some recommended talking to police. All I could do was shrug. There was no point. There was no greater meaning in my mind, other than things happen. Looking back, I let things that happened that night of lesser importance, overshadow the things that happened to me. I didn’t mind, at the time.

One of my Tarot cards was Death; as my reader put it, the falsely “most feared” card. He told me, death doesn’t always mean a physical person dying. It can also mean the end of a period of time, or a personality.

December 2012 is the death of the person I was in 2012. I spent a year, running and hiding, being selfish, and living without consequences.

I started REALLY blogging on June 22 (6 months prior to the day AFTER the end of the world). I was marking that as the start of rebuilding myself. I feel like by the end of 2012, I will be there. Will I keep blogging after that? I will just have to wait to see.

I want to leave 2012 as I entered: alone. There is no better way in my mind for me to give 2012 the finger than to gracefully take a bow, in the same position I was brought into it in, but so much stronger.


My Tarot Card Reading

Great band to listen to on a road trip!

Torah? Taroh? Torat? Torot? I still had to Google it to know what they are called.

Last week on my roadtrip to the south, I spent 2.5 days in New Orleans. Loved the city, and already ready to go back and explore.

One of Nina’s “I really want to” was to go to a fortune teller. New Orleans is infamous for Voodoo and lingering spirits.

The first night, we pasted a dark park that had two tables set up. We decided to take a chance and sat at the only table with a reader. He was a fairly young guy, complete with dreads and a black hat. There were incense burning, and several candles on the table. His voice was smooth and whimsical.

He invited us to put our hands on the velvet that was laid across the heated table, and explained what Tarot cards are: they are a reading of what has happened in your past, what is going on in your present, and what will come in your future. It is not destiny, just what to expect if you remain on your current path.

Handing his deck to me, I struggled to shuffle the well-worn cards once. He maintained a subtle grin on his face the entire reading , while maintaining eye contact always a little longer than made me comfortable.

My past
– I have gained the ability to look at the world and the people in it with a much larger scope than many have.
– I often am trying to help people. I see the chaos others are going through, and try to help them because of my larger view. They will only take help if they want it.
– I have gone through significant changes in my life. As he put it, “sometimes you flick a spider’s web, and it bounces back. Sometimes it only takes one point of it to break to cause the whole thing to come crashing down.” My web fell down, and I’ve recently rebuilt it.

My Present (this is already getting foggy in my mind)
– I surround myself with close friends. I feel complete.
– I am taking a break from a lot of things in my life.
– I’m spending a lot of time evaluating myself, and things around me.

My Future
– He asks me if I’m getting married soon. When I laugh and say no, he says, “well, we don’t always know what’s in store for us.” Not that I’ll be married, but in the next six months I will be with the person I will stay with.
– I will be happiest if I remind myself of what I want most. Otherwise, I will fall back into the same place I was. Repeated: Remind yourself of what you want most.

I was skeptical. I could see how most people could convince themselves they fit those cards.

Then he read Nina’s.

I won’t detail her reading, that is her story to tell. I will say, he said things that her and I had talked about on the ride down. He made exceptions for cards to fit her life before even showing us what they were.

On the walk to a bar to calm after, we both confessed there was no way we could have fit ourselves into the others reading. There were things he said to me that she had to stare at me wit “yeah, exactly” on her mind, and I did the same for her. There was one point in time when he was verbally arguing with what she was thinking in her mind. He nailed both of our readings – past and present.

I’ve said before, I love to love. I’ve tried to shift my focus to other areas of my life, but I’m best at being with someone. My reading was based almost completely on my relationships and friendships in the past and future.

So what? Is destiny controlled? Is there anything I can change based on this?

Not really. Given the last 24 hours, maybe it was a short-hand notice to remind myself of my goals.

Maybe it’s a warning to make sure I stay on the right track over the next couple months.

My last couple blogs have been about coincidences. I think I need to find a stronger word for that, because coincidences just doesn’t seem to fit any more. Regardless, I wasn’t blown away that he could read me so clearly.

There are much stronger powers at work. I’m very interested in what the next six months will bring.

I’m not dating until 2013.

“How am I going to get out of this?” “I can’t do this.” “How did this happen?” “I survived.”

Probably not the reaction you would expect when someone talks about dating.

I threw myself into the dating world once this year, and found that I’ve backed out over the last couple months. I was forcing myself to do something I thought I should be doing.

I still go out. I mingle. I flirt.

I am also very upfront about what will happen next. I’ve learned this while typing a blog in the past: “Yes, I’ll give you my number, but I probably won’t respond.” ‘Someguy’ is now the most popular last name in my phone. I won’t make any plans with them for later, I generally won’t even stay talking with that person until I leave.

They still continue. We’ll text back and forth, and suddenly I’m confused as to why I now have plans with them. I’ll make up lame excuses in my mind for why we wouldn’t work, then bail.

I know what they feel, as I used to be the person who makes excuses for other people, and convince myself they will change. I think a lot of females are drawn to guys they want to fix.

Now I am the unusual girl they want to fix. They see me as a challenge.

Who doesn’t like getting texts from people throughout the day? I’m who they think about on Sunday evenings, on their lunch breaks, on Saturday mornings.

But I run. I know what it feels like to be on the other end. To not know why this person fell off. What is the proper etiquette to tell someone, “I like that you like to talk to me, but I’m just not ready to move forward?” Is there any, other than the decency to just stop letting it drag on? I’ve used these explanations the last month, none of which have stuck: flaky, dodgy, sporadic, not dating. I even compared my dating life to a speed limit, and I max out at 12 mph.

I have friends tell me it’s okay both ways. From, “If you aren’t interested in dating you need to stop responding to them, period.” To, “They are adults, they can take care of themselves.” Even, “You’re in the driver seat, so you get to make the calls.”

I’m still learning things about people. I’m learning what I do and don’t like. I’ve learned the most interesting and that have the most attractive personalities are the ones that have been hurt, felt real pain, or struggled. I’ve learned that modern technology is playing a huge role in dating. I’ve learned that the longer I continue this stage of running, the less I like dating, relationships, and my view on them. I’m learning about myself, and how much I can do. I’m learning how far I still have to go.

I don’t want someone perfect. I want someone real. I’m dragging my feet because I can. I don’t feel any urge to fill a void, there is no reason for me to rush into anything.

So, for now, I’m going to just keep on keeping on. Sometimes that’s the best I can do. I’m already counting down the weeks until 2013 when it will be a fresh start. 2012 – you’ve been a real jerk.

Things you’re not supposed to do in church.

Sunday morning. There’s a 30-60% chance of whose house I will wake up in. Though, every once in a while there is a curve ball morning and I find myself in foreign territory.

This week followed the norm as I woke up on my friends couch and I was confronted with a common dilemma. I want to go to church, but it’s obvious I’m still rocking an outfit from the night before.

Do I not go simply because I’m not fulfilling the “Sunday’s best” outfit expectation? Or, do I go because church is important to me, regardless of my knee-high boots covered in dried dirt, jeans that at one point had as little as one full cup of beer spilled on them, Nebraska jacket, ponytail and whatever makeup is still clinging on. I rarely even leave the house this sloppy.

I went for it. She gave me a ride back downtown and dropped me off at the church, I had two minutes to spare. I sat in the back, I walked quickly to and from communion.

We talked about lasting positive impacts when someone remembers us, and leaving the places we go with a lasting “good thoughts”. This is also why I’m deciding I will go on the road trip in a couple weeks. I hope we can figure out how to get to New York.

The main reason I decided to go to church was because my philosophy on what a church is for. Churches are like hospitals. Being free of sin is being “healthy”, healthy people don’t need to go to a hospital. Sinners go to church to get better. Churches heal.

However, there are other expectations in church, some of which I feel cause people to not go at all. If you want to go, there should be no reason you don’t. It’s people that drive us away. Here are a few examples of expectations:

1. Never show up late. My family struggled with this growing up. Showing up late is like saying, “I don’t care enough about God to leave my house on time.” Obviously false. Sometimes things come up. Some people just have different struggles.

2. Dress your best. I understand that wearing nice clothes implies respect. However, when it comes to religion I believe in “come as you are.” Spirituality isn’t something you do once a week that forces to put on a show and act out of your norm. Churches shouldn’t expect this either.

3. Never bring food. I live on coffee during the week. Nothing would make me happier than sitting in a beautiful building, thinking about theories of how to make myself a better person, and drinking a hot latte. But I won’t.

4. Don’t sit in the front row.I think there is a false precedent that sitting in front must imply you think you are ‘in front’ of everyone else, because no one ever sits up there. Maybe it’s because we don’t like to make eye contact with the pastor. Maybe it’s because we don’t like a hundred people staring at the back of our head for an hour.

5. Put your tithe in an envelope. That way no one can see how much you are giving. I’m not a member. I usually put in whatever small bills I have left in my purse from the night before.

6. Use the buddy system. The first couple years of college, I often wouldn’t go because I would have to go alone. People don’t like doing things without someone, though most outsiders probably don’t even notice. I don’t mind it any more, it’s just exactly who I am: A young, single female making mistakes, learning, and doing what I want to do.

Single female troubles

Thought Catalog is a great blog. If you haven’t checked it out, I highly recommend it (along with Hyperbole and a Half). TC posts blogs from a variety of bloggers in their 20 and 30s, mostly the same style as my blog.

Earlier this week, they posted a list of the top 20 reasons why being single is great. I agreed with most of them, and a lot revolved around being able to do whatever you want when you want, no questions, second-guessing, or considering others feelings.

While often it is nice to stop at whatever restaurant or pick whatever music on a whim, I’ve found that I do miss not having to make plans. It can be exhausting having to consider and decide every part of a day. Sometimes the thing that makes me happiest is coming home and having the trash taken out, because it’s just one less thing I have to think about.

A couple weeks ago was the first time I had ever mowed the yard at my house. I couldn’t figure out how to start it. No matter how hard I pulled, where I moved the lever, it wouldn’t go. All I could think about, was imagining my neighbors looking out their windows and taking pity on the poor young girl who couldn’t even turn on a simple engine.

Luckily, the issue was resolved before it was noticed and some ‘hero’ had to step in.

Being a single female homeowner has been a lot tougher than I imagined. With my busy schedule, I have gone months without going to areas in my yard, or places in my basement. My parents had to come help me revitalize by plants because I forgot they were there and didn’t water them. It sounds odd to think I just forget about the things I own, but as long as they’ve stayed out of sight, they’ve been put of mind.

I’m grateful I have a male roommate. I’ve lived by myself for several years, and have learned the ‘tricks’ to protect myself (in addition to taking a self defense class). Keeping men’s shoes by the front door. Never going to where I store checks unless I really know the person in the room. If I’m ever followed, don’t go to your door/car, just keep going. If a cop tried to pull you over between cities, never stop until you make it to the next town. Bras are the best place for important items because I am immediately aware of any hands going near that area. Always have a cab number handy. Never answer the door if I’m alone.

I’m currently in the process of accumulating all my personal information in a safe, in case of emergency. One of my best friends has a survival bag, in case of a disaster. In it she has a copy of her passport, legal docs, food, water, tennis shoes, and other emergency items.

As part of my homeowner experience, I had a repair man in my house to work on one of my bathrooms. I was so grateful Zach happened to leave his stuff out for the man to see. I felt a lot more comfortable knowing he knew a man lived with me.

Growing up, I lived on a circle and my bedroom was on the second floor. I now live on a mildly busy street, in a ranch. My bedroom sits about 200 feet from the sidewalk. I love sleeping with my windows open, but often look twice to make sure no one is standing outside my window. I don’t have a reason for doing this, but it’s just something I have grown accustomed to.

Which sucks. I feel like I can defend myself as well if not more than anyone else. Is it just because I’m female that I have such worries? Has media sensationalized that females are attacked more often?

While in Columbus, I was mildly “harassed” a couple times for being from Nebraska. It wasn’t anything bad, but I really don’t know if me specifically has ever been the target of traveling team obscenities. I can only assume that is because I’m female that it never happened before.

So, all things considered, I’m now debating how this roles into my passion for traveling. I have taken several big trips with only one other females, but what if I want to go alone? And what if it’s not just a trip to another state, but to another part of the country, or even the world?

Can I do it alone? Is it foolish to think something bad won’t happen?

I’m naive about cancer.

Back on a TBT kick!

If you live in Nebraska you either love autumn, or love spring. No one loves winter or summer here. The fall brings excitement: football, sweaters, holidays like Halloween and Thanksgiving.

I enjoyed my first handful of candy corn last week. While extremely addictive, in my mind I can’t help compare candy corn to eating plastic. There is absolutely no health benefit, it is an unpleasant color, and the texture isn’t really like anything else.

I believe that so many of our new and undiagnosable sicknesses come from synthetics that we come in contact with and digest. BPA is an obvious one, but I include things that are created for preservatives, medicines, and cleaners. I have absolutely no explanation or reason why I feel so strongly about this, other than it’s “unnatural”.

So then, it is reasonable to say that every time I eat something like candy corn, I feel .0001% more likely to get cancer.

For a period when I was much younger, I thought for some reason that people shouldn’t be treated if they developed some sort of major sickness. I won’t go into more details, mostly because I don’t remember what I was thinking, but I will say I thought that way because I had never faced anyone with a long-term sickness. In my mind, if people who reproduced were sick, they would produce sick kids… And eventually lead to a deterioration of our society.

Seriously, what kool-aid was I drinking?

Anyway, I feel like right now I still have that lack of awareness and in ability to comprehend the entire picture when it comes to cancer. I don’t know anyone who has had to “fight” it in the way you see on TV, or had a serious conversation with a loved one of a person who had it.

My mom had skin cancer (which is a huge reason why I don’t try to tan more than 5 days per year. I blame it on being largely Irish). But it wasn’t the full-blown, crisis control, shave-my-head cancer.

I feel like I’m missing out on a large part of society because I don’t participate in walks or support causes. I know cancer is a terrible thing to happen, and would never take it or a person fighting it lightly. However, forgive my phrasing of the following, but what makes cancer so “special”?

My dad had heart heart surgery two or three years ago, and had to fight an extremely hard and challenging battle to get his body back to where it was. Is there a group for people who love people who have had heart surgery? Was his battle less important in society? Less scary? Less impacting on his family and work?

Again, I know I probably sound like an ass, but I’m just naive. There are so many illnesses that require fights and support for those recovering. Sickness happens, and so much of it is beyond our control. What am I missing?

Destroy or be destroyed

It’s been an extremely busy week/month/season. As of yesterday, we’ve already surpassed the most e-mails we’ve sent in an entire month, and we still have a week and a half to go in September. I went into my usual Tuesday morning meeting, and confessed to one of my coworkers/friends, “I am so crabby today.” Instead of throwing me a pity party, she immediately started giving me shit about things from the weekend until I was laughing so hard I couldn’t respond. It’s really good to have good friends at work.

Midway through that afternoon, I decided I needed to do something fun midweek as opposed to the housework I’ve been committing myself to. I decided to see The Words. This is only the second movie I’ve restlessly attempted to sit through since movie night back in May. I was warned that it would make me think, though my biggest problem was that I couldn’t get my mind to shut up.

Before going to the movie, I’ve been thinking a lot about who I am now, versus who I had thought I wold be in my mid-twenties. Part of that movie involved this same evaluation, and questioning what you would do get there.

At age 5, I wanted to be a farmer. 10 – an artist. 14 I was exploring modeling potential. 17 – married with kids, being an athletic trainer. 21 – married with kids, and balancing a career as a graphic designer. 24 – just married, no kids, still building my career in advertising. Now at age 25, I haven’t fulfilled a damn thing except land a job.

I also planned on spending extended periods of time outside the country. I wanted to have lived in a tiny apartment in the heart of a big city. There is still time, it just moves so much faster now. Changes now have bigger consequences than they did when I was 10.

So again, who am I? I’m so quick to define myself based on my job, or my friends, or the places I’ve been. I think of the scene in Anger Management – “I don’t want you to tell us what you do, I want you to tell us who you are.”

Parts of the movie tonight centered around why we make the choices we do. (spoiler alert) “love for the words over-powered love for the person who caused them to happen.” What do I love? What drives me? According to my TalentMine evaluation last year, my top driving force professionally is achievement, followed by team, problem solver, then responsibility. I think Gallup hit it closer: empathy, relator, achiever, consistency, ideation.

I like to succeed, and I like to build close relationships.

Over the last couple weeks, I’ve noticed being referred to as having a ‘commitment problem’ more frequently. The first time someone jokingly said that, my first response was too brush it off. For every reference to having a commitment problem, I’ve probably proclaimed that I love to love.

Although I’ve been trying to expend ways for myself to, “be better,” so many of my posts still fall back to relationships. Men. I love the quote, “It takes a mighty good man to be better than no man at all.” So how does a person who loves loving, deal with the fact she avoids getting close to anyone?

Then I started realizing my sabotaging the last few men (my apologies if you read this and you are one of these. I’ve kind of been an ass):

  • Ditched him at a bar. From out of town, didn’t leave with his friends so he could stay out with me. Direct quote from me – “You can’t come with us.”
  • Perfecting abrupt exit strategies to leave before they he can ask for my number.
  • Being in communications with men who are ‘unavailable.’ No commitment will ever be requested.
  • The guy I casually dated before kicking him out of my house and have been actively avoiding places where we might run into each other.
  • The guy I had a random two hour conversation with, but then I specifically told him multiple times I wouldn’t respond to texts the next day, just because “I won’t want to.”
  • Kansas city.
  • Avoiding any situation the requires spending more than two hours together.
  • The second date I showed up drunk to.
  • The unfortunate souls who happened to be the first to ask me out, and responded by ignoring any communication for weeks.

Do I have problems, or am I just being extremely picky? Am I giving anyone a real chance for me to get to know them?

How does someone who is driven by loving, but terrified of committing survive? Maybe I keep looking to better myself in other areas but failing is because no one can pick another area that drives you, and expect it to satisfy you in the same way. It’s a temporary fix.