2010. You little bastard.
2010 was the weirdest year of my life. 2010 was the hardest year of my life. It was the most stretching, the most difficult, the most heartbreaking.
And yet, it also was the most triumphant year of my life. In 2010 I feel as though I changed into a different — a person that I’m beginning to be ok with. I like the way I’ve changed — for the most part. There’s always things to work on.
There was no big romantic love this year. That was a big difference. I think it was because my heart is still a little torn up about Boston. I gave so much of myself to that endeavor — I spent months planning, dreaming, imagining. I spent months searching for an apartment, visualizing myself taking the T, walking through the snowy streets of that new city. There was no room for anyone or anything else in my heart. And right now, there’s still not. I think I’m not happy unless I’m planning my next big escape, and putting my heart and soul into that.
That’s ok, right?
Leaving Boston was heartbreaking. It broke me for a little while. But anyway.
So here’s my year-in-review. 2010: What a year.
Well, of course, I up and moved to Boston. Jan. 10, 2010. I remember not being as scared as I should have been. I didn’t realize the implications of my move, or how hard it could be. What I remember most is the satisfaction of saying I would do something and actually following through with it. It was a good feeling.
It was a great feeling. January was a good month. I explored, I walked, I observed new people. I found a wall by Mass Art that had the gem of a quote that’s the title of this post. I worked for sweet Betsy. It was a magical month. I loved Boston: The snow covering the Common, riding the T. The frozen Charles river. Eerything.
Oh, February. We didn’t get along so well. I can honestly say it was the hardest month this year. But I survived it. And it was the month that sparked my writing nearly every day, which I love.
I went to New York City by myself for Valentine’s Day, and it was incredible.
In February I fell. I thought I had a job and then I didn’t. And that’s OK.
Life isn’t always daisies and roses and freakin’ rainbows. People suck sometimes. But that’s OK. We’re all human.
So February. I fell and it took me a while to get back on my feet. But I did, finally, and I was all the better for it.
Spring. Life. Flowers. March was when I got my job in the flower shop. And truly: I loved it. The job made me happier than every job I’ve held so far. The people I interacted with were (for the most part) pretty amazing. I worked harder than I’ve ever worked before, and for a while, I was happier than I’d ever been.
I met some truly incredible people: People I still remember today. The pansies man, and Steve. The guy who wanted the rose. The other guywho ays needed a beautiful bouquet for his girlfriend — and always made a point to talk to me and start a conversation, and find out why I moved out to Boston. He was kind, and I appreciated it. There was Cena, the man who worked in the shop next to the flower shop. He was kind — and always gave me an apple. There was also the eccentric hair dresser: She was fabulous, and always stopped to tell me the display looked, “Fabulous, love, just fabulous.” She made my days happy.
I also met some amazing people outside of work. Being me though, I screwed it up, royally. And I still wish it had worked out differently.
A hard month. My employers left for a trip to NYC for two weeks, and I was pretty much in charge of the shop in Back Bay. I worked for two weeks straight and it was hard. Little did I know, it was the beginning of the end. I worked double shifts from 7:30 a.m. to 9 or 10 at night. It. Was. Brutal. Apparently I have a hard time saying no when people ask me to work.
I left Boston.
I left Boston in the hopes that I’d get the job I have now. My best friend got married, and her wedding was beautiful. But it was hard being home. I was resentful and missing Boston and frustrated with myself for giving up. It was a hard month. I remember writing one night that it already felt like someone else’s life. And it did. It felt like I’d never left, and I hated that.
But it was also nice getting reacquainted with my friends, my family, and more importantly: Texas. I realized while in Boston I dearly love this state: The people, the atmosphere, the rolling, flat landscape. It’s beautiful in its own way, and I can appreciate it now. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stay here forever. Hell no. There’s too much of that great, big, beautiful, amazing and ever-changing world to see. I can’t wait.
My birthday month. The month I started my first job at a newspaper. I made some stupid mistakes, I sat by the pool drinking beers with my best friend and I settled into my new job.
I tried to end my blog, but that didn’t last. Even though I don’t write as much as I used to, this blog is important to me. I like knowing it’s here; that I can use it as an outlet for my joys, my struggles, my angst and thoughts.
A trip to Barnes and Noble one morning sparked a new love: Travel. Exploring the world. It was at that point I started thinking about some new opportunities within the next few years.
Hmm. July. I stopped writing. It was like my words dried up for a little while. I was still learning to settle down in Lubbock. And learning about the job. But once I got into a rhythm, it wasn’t so bad. But in the back of my head, Iwas still dreaming. Always dreaming. I’m never not dreaming.
I don’t even know. I was reading a lot and working a lot and missing Boston. To be honest, it all blends together. It was an unremarkable month, much like most of my months and days lately.
Oh, this was a good month. My good friend from Germany came to visit, and it was so good to see him and catch up after nearly six years of not seeing each other. It was definitely interesting and a little bit unexpected. Hmmm…I think that’s all I’ll say on here.
This month I also realized how to accept where I am. I made a conscious effort to stop regretting my choices, and learn to be where I am. Does that make sense? I’m trying, really I am.
I also came to the realization that no matter where I am in my life, there’s always going to be things back home I’ll miss. So, to counteract that, I’ve gotta be somewhere awesome so it’s not so bad.
Oh, and I also went skydiving. It was amazing. incredible. Liberating. I LOVED IT.
October, October…hmm. October I realized I had to start being happy. I had to stop reliving my time in Boston, because it wasn’t coming back. And that was ok. I have other things to look forward to. Bigger things. Better things.
October was hard. I was working six days a week and it. was. rough. I felt like I never left work, but I did save an ass-load of money. That’s nice.
November I missed my first holiday with my family: Thanksgiving. It was hard, then again, what’s not hard these days?
The last month of the year. Christmas. The holidays. Cheer and thanksgiving and peace.
I worked Christmas too. And now I’m here, on the same couch I was on in 2009, ringing in the new year the same way. And yet, I’m different, so that’s OK. I don’t mind it.
This year is over. As I’m writing this, there are 2 hours and 5 minutes left in the year.
I’m ready, 2011. I thought I was ready for 2010, but as it turns out, I think 2011 will be my year.
I still have hope. I still have dreams. I’m going to make magic.
2011 will be amazing. I’m determined to make it so, and you all know I’m a girl with some serious determination.
So here are my resolutions:
I’m going to be brave. I’m going to take on the world.
I want to stay in shape: Running has been working wonders for me.
I want to find peace. I want to remember that this is my one chance in life, and if I want to do something, I’m going to do it.
But more importantly, I want to continue dreaming. The thing I believe in most is a person’s capacityto dream. Without that, we’re a little lost.
I dream big dreams.
It’s what got me to Boston. It’s what has (and is) getting me through living in Lubbock again.
Dreams are going to carry me around the world, and I can’t wait to see where I land first.
2011 will be my year of adventure, my year of excitement: My year of unexpectedness. It will be. I can’t handle it not being otherwise.
So get ready, people: 2011 is upon us.
Make some magic.
Making decisions used to be so easy when I was in college. There was very little thought process, at least not much past the “I wonder what Mom would say,” thing.
Now that I’m working, now that I’m paying my own bills and my own rent (which, I actually really like), making decisions SUCKS. I’m officially the most indecisive girl in the world.
I don’t know where to go from here. I just don’t. I know that at some point I’ve got to make a definite decision. I’ve gone back and forth for the last six months. I want one thing and then I want another. I like having choices; it makes me appreciate living in a society where I can make my own decisions, but what the hell, man?
I’m scared that the things I want to do are me running away from a crappy situation.
But deep down, I don’t think that’s it. I don’t think anyone has to be this miserable in life, especially at the age of 22. I could still technically be in college. And I think if I have the means to change my situation I should be able to…right?
I just don’t think that having a nervous breakdown every two weeks, complaining to my best friends about work every single time I see them and calling my mom every two days in tears from the bathroom of work is the best way to be living life.
Yes, at some point I need to grow up and just accept my situation and see it through to the end, but come one. I’m not fricking staying here forever.
I can’t believe it’s Thanksgiving again. WhenI think about the year since last Thanksgiving…whoa. Really?
Last Thanksgiving I was on the verge of a major move across the country. I was breathless with new possibilities and ready to take on the world.
Oh, that Katie. That sweet, naive, ambitious, optimistic, dreamy Katie.
And how things have changed since then. Last year I was thankful for family. For choices. For making known what I wanted (thought I wanted, I suppose. I don’t know anymore.) and having the courage to go after it.
It was a truly interesting year — a life-changing, dream-transforming year.
So here’s what I’m thankful for this year.
I’m thankful, as always for my incredible set of parents. I’ve thrown quite a few little curve balls at them in the last year, and most recently in the last two weeks, and they’ve never let me down. Even when I thought they would laugh, they never did. They never scoffed at my grandiose and far-reaching dreams. No matter how far into the various corners of the world they reached. They accepted what I have wanted to do thus far and have gone with it quite nicely.
I’m thankful I have a sister who tells me what I need to hear, even when it hurts like hell.
I’m more than thankful I have friends who listen to me bitch and moan and whine. I don’t deserve their listening ears, but they’re always there for me nonetheless.
I’m thankful for new experiences — good and bad. This year was completely and utterly transformative, and I can’t believe I am where I am today. It’s not where I expected to be, but it’s not entirely bad.
And I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again: I’m so thankful I moved to Boston. That city, it changed me, as trite as it sounds. It’s a part of me now, and I’m terrified I’ll forget those four months.
I’m thankful for all the little things: learning the T and memorizing the stops I needed to get to my little apartment on Shepherd Ave. I’m thankful for my flower job and for working for sweet Betsy. I’m thankful Steve became my friend and taught me how important it is to give–even when I think I have nothing. Because until I’m in Steve’s position I always have something. I’m thankful for all the wonderful people I was able to meet — people who taught me how to look at the world in different colors, to find the beauty in the mundane.
I’m thankful I found a home in a new part of the country other than West Texas.
But this year I’m most thankful for learning lessons. It’s been one of the hardest years of my life, but boy, have I had to grow the hell up. And I love that. I love that I’ve learned from my mistakes. I’ve finally realized that coming back to Lubbock wasn’t a failure.
Not going to Boston would have been the failure. Simply taking the leap and making it in the city for a few months was the success. And it taught me I can take big chances and dream big dreams and come out the other side partly unscathed.
So this year, I guess instead of “Peace, faith, courage and possibility,” my words are these: “Lessons, choices, opportunities. Grace.”
And still peace. Always peace.
And this year is so different from last year. Last year I had a clear idea of where I was going and where I wanted to be. Last year I was a dreamer and bit more innocent. Now my ideas are foggy and unsure. But I think that’s ok. I’m looking forward to figuring it all out and finding a new place to land.
This week I had not one, but two, people tell me something that bothered me horribly.
“Katie, you’re never happy. What’s going on?”
“Katie, you weren’t happy in Lubbock so you moved to Boston. Then you moved back to Lubbock after Boston, and you’re unhappy again. When are you ever going to be happy?”
Apparently, it’s time for a little self-reflection.
And here’s what I came up with.
I’m not unhappy — in any way, shape or form. I’m frustrated, and that feels like a huge difference to me.
I’m frustrated and deeply disappointed in myself. When I moved to Boston, I had all the optimism in the world. I was going to go up there, kick some Yankee butt and ingrain myself in that life. I was going to find an awesome job in the publishing industry, and basically, start over.
So I did that. In January 2010 I hopped on a plane with my cat and a suitcase and a hell of a lot of dreams and left the hometown I was born and raised in.
Four months later, I was back. Granted, I am back for a great job, a real job, (and that’s more than some people can say) but still. I’m back.
No matter what anyone says to me, no matter how many people tell me I “made it in Boston,” I don’t feel like I did. I feel like I gave up. Like I threw away my dreams of the last few years because things got a little hard. It feels like I turned my back on the girl I was in January and ignored her pleas to stay. To power through and keep trying and pushing and hoping and wishing.
I’m so disappointed in myself, it’s hard to explain. I hate living with this much regret. I hate that, as my sister phrased it, “I’m drowning in self-pity.” It’s true and when she said that to me it was like the universe slapped me in the face and told me to get the hell over it.
But. And here’s the part where everyone reading this realizes that I’m really not a total downer. My mindset is turning around.
I am where I am, and regardless of how I wish it were different, it’s not going to change for a while. And you know what? I’m thinking that may be OK for now.
I’m realizing more and more how where I am right now is not bad. It’s finally hit me that living with such a sh*tload of regret and disappointment backlogged in my brain and my heart is essentially crippling my life. It’s not healthy, and even more than that, it’s not going to get me back to where I want to be. The only thing that will get me back on track is more of that optimism I talked about earlier. And sheer will. And you know I have that.
But the way I see it, I had two choices back in May/June when I was offered this job. Both choices would have given me different experiences, new people to meet and various life lessons to learn.
Neither choice was bad. Neither choice was clearly the better choice.
Because I chose to take this job, I’m going to end up somewhere different than if I had stayed in Boston. While that’s a hard truth to swallow, I have to believe it. And I’m not going to end up somewhere bad. It’s just going to be much different than I originally thought it would be.
But isn’t that sort of the beauty of life and the power of making your own choices? You never know what’s around the next corner, and I love that.
So long story short, I’m sorry everyone. I’m sorry for imposing my frustration on all of you, as I know it hasn’t made me a fun person to be around. Know that I’m trying; know that I’m attempting to turn all this negativity into peace — into optimisim and hope and dreams for my future. It’ll happen. I’m not going to be drowning anymore.
So thank you, Universe. And thanks to my friends and sister who aren’t afraid to be honest and call it like it is.
I just hate that I have to wait for my next adventure, haha.
It’s time to write a kick ass post, because it’s been far, far too long since I wrote a good one. You know what I’m talking about? I need a post that almost brings me to tears when I re-read it. One that fills me up heart and soul and leaves me spent and nearly empty because I poured my whole self into these words I’m letting you all read.
One of those.
So hopefully, here I go.
I’ve been on “vacation” the last couple of days. When I say vacation I mean I’ve got five mandatory days off work and I’m in Midland at my parent’s house. Which is nice. Ish. I definitely needed the days off work. I’m beyond exhausted.
Needless to say however, I’ve had a bit of time on my hands. Today was spent in my pajamas, laying on the couch and watching freakin’ Jersey Shore reruns. Ew. I feel like I need a shower after watching their antics.
But I’ve also spent much of the day reading blogs. Travel blogs, specifically. I follow a few, but today I took the time to look at who they follow.
I’m not jealous of these people. I’m admiring of the way they faced into the wind and the unknown and took that terrifying leap.
Earl’s Syria post resonated with me the most.
He talks about how there were some moments in Syria where he felt nothing but “unrestricted happiness.” It’s a beautiful post. It filled me with longing because I’ve felt that before.
I’ve felt that beautiful feeling of absolute rightness. That feeling of peace, of love for anyone and everyone in your path. It’s a beautiful thing. I felt it when I breathlessly hopped on the trains in Boston with just seconds to spare before it left the station. Or when my regular customers recongnized me and I them. I felt it when I trotted up and down the streets of New York City, letting the energy revitalize me and remind me just how very alive I am.
I almost think it’s that feeling those bloggers have that I’m searching for. Their posts have embedded in my mind the idea of going to these countries that I’d never before considered.
Albania. Syria. Turkey. Morocco. Egypt. South Africa. Czech Republic. Cambodia. India. Peru. Argentina. Thailand. China. Tibet. (I HAVE to see Everest — whether it’s from the Tibet or Nepal side; I don’t really care.) So many more places. The far-flung corners of the globe.
I say this all the time, that I can’t wait to travel and see the world, but maybe it’s time to start thinking more seriously about it. At the very least maybe I should start making a list of where I want to go and what all I want to see and experience.
Maybe it’s time to start dreaming again.
After all, isn’s that the momentum that got me all the way to Boston? Aren’t the wild and crazy dreams and ideas and the belief it can happen what makes me me?
I feel like it’s the part of me that’s been missing for six months now. And I feel like it’s the part of me that I need to get back. Right now. ( I almost typed right meow.)
“Which brings me, as always, back to Boston. I leave in 20 days, and my feelings about that are becoming more and more excited. Finally, all I have left to do is get ready for that. That’s the only thing I need to worry about right now. That, and saying goodbye to my family and friends.
Which, I’ll be honest, I’m terrified to do. I’m scared that I’ll get to Boston and fall apart. Even as I type this though, I kind of have to laugh at myself. I believe this is right for me, and I think I’ll be OK. I really, really do. That’s what is going to get me through.
I don’t want my move to Boston to be like my year at Texas A&M. I don’t want to shut myself off from experiences because I’m scared. I want to continue to be open to everything. I want to try new things. I want to lose sleep because I’m spending time with amazing people. I want to “be wild, be young, be free.” Yes, I am a college graduate, but let’s be honest: I’m 21, and moving to a big city on a whim. It’s pretty darn cool. So I will be young and I will be free and I will make this experience something to remember.
It’s going to change my life and I’m so excited to see what’s in store for me.”
Who do you think wrote those words?
You get three gets and the first two don’t count.
Me. I wrote that. If you want you can read the post here.
What the hell happened to me?
I went to Boston and did exactly what I was afraid of.
I know my last post was all about how I am growing up and learning to deal with my decisions. But then I started re-reading my old posts, trying to figure out what happened. And I’m still not sure.
That post threw me for a loop. It’s funny that back in December I had a feeling I’d get scared. And look what happened. I know I can’t change what I chose, and all I can do at this point is move forward, but I’m just so fricken’ disappointed. I’m disappointed in myself, I’m disappointed that I didn’t act like an adult, I’m disappointed that I didn’t think through the consequences of my decision to come home: of how I would feel six months down the road. And I feel awful.
But enough about that, I think.
I wish I hadn’t read that today.
I never set out to be a copy editor.
And yet, here I am.
I never intended to go to Texas Tech.
And yet, there I went.
I never intended to be purposefully single for any stretch of time.
And yet, here I am. (Happy about that, too.)
I never intended to move to Boston.
And yet, I did.
I never intended (or fathomed) that I’d be back in Lubbock after four months of living on the East Coast.
And yet, look at me now. Fully ensconced back into my old life, and stuck with a few more bills than I was used to last fall.
To be honest, I absolutely cannot believe it’s already September 2010. Like, what? Last September I was working two jobs, loving school and my friends and frantically making plans. I spent hours on the Internet perusing Craigslist and shooting off e-mails to unknown persons in Boston, begging for a spot in their apartment.
I mentioned in my last post that I had a bit of a breakdown last Thursday. It wasn’t only about missing all the events of the weekend.
Rather, it also stemmed from the realization of how very little I accomplished while in the East.
Sure, I came back a little more confident and a little more eager to say what I think or what I feel.
But I also came back with a bad attitude: an expectation that people should see what I saw in myself. Things I might have been imagining.
This really has nothing to do with what I’m trying to write about.
I had another thought the other night when I was on my way home from work. I also wrote recently I feel as though I’m not learning anything in Lubbock.
What if I’m wrong about that?
What if what I’m supposed to learn is how to deal with my mistakes? Think about it. This is probably one of the first times in my life where mommy and daddy haven’t bailed me out. Not that there was anything they could do; they thought I w anted this.
what I’m saying is this: This was the first time I couldn’t say, “You know what? I’ve changed my mind. This isn’t for me. Thanks, y’all are great, but I think I’ll head up to Boston now. Catch ya later!”
No. This time I made a commitment to a job, and to be honest, I don’t have the funds.
This is me learning to accept my mistakes and start learning. No, I don’t want to be here. But I made the choice to be here, and I have to deal with it for the time being.
It’s a frighteningly fine line, though.
I want out of here so badly I can taste it. It colors my every day: My moods, my thoughts, my attitude.
You see, I’m scared. Because I’ve been back and I’m happy here. My job is great, my co-workers are fun and amazing, and my friends? Well, they’re my lifelines.
I know, I just know, that if I let go and let myself be completely at peace here, I’ll never get out.
My biggest fear is waking up 10 or five or even three years from now and still stagnating in this own. It’s a real possibility, especially when I consider just how quickly the last year has gone back. How easy will it be for the next two years to fly by? I’m scared I’ll blink and open my eyes and it’ll be 2015. I can’t handle that type of disappointment.
Being this disappointed in myself right now is difficult enough.
So the moral of this post is learning. I’m learning. I’m learning what it is to grow up and accept responsibility for my choices.
But I’m also learning to figure out what I need for myself.
And what I need for myself right now is some adventure. I need excitement and inspiration and I need to be challenged.
Boston was that challenge, and I gave up way too quickly. I gave up when the going got rough. The tough did not get going in my case. (hehe)
So now, as I conclude this post, I’m sitting outside on the patio of Daybreak coffee. My views consist of a parking lot full of cars and a busy street directly in front of me. It’s not scenic, to say the least. I’m wearing a fabulous navy blue jersey dress, and I’m soaking up the alternating sun and clouds.
And because I wrote on my facebook status that today is a great day for dreaming, I’m going to for a minute. Right now I see myself in an alternate reality. Just go with it, OK?
I’m in the same dress and I have my computer in front of me. I”m writing my daily update for blog. Instead of Pandora playing from my speakers, I’m listening to the tones of the speakers around me. It’s a foreign language, but it’s lyrical in itself. I love listening and imagining what they’re saying; I love hearing the rise and fall in their tones and inflections.
Instead of coffee, I’m sipping on an ice cold beer: A local brew, if you will.
Instead of 82nd Street and the roar of cars passing I see a crowded street full of stalls selling street food. People meander up and down the streets, pushing in between carts to get the best cuts of meat. Beyond that I see a glimpse of torquoise, the ocean in an exotic locale.
The smells in the place are intoxicating: Foreign spices mixed with salty ocean air.
And me? I’m tucked up in a small corner on a patio of a small cafe, loving life. Loving my new adventure.
That is my small little dream for the day. Take it for what it is: Lame or immature. Fathomable or attainable. I don’t even know.
All I know is I can see it. And I want it.