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Self-fulfilling prophecies.

September 24, 2010 1 comment

“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.

Categories: Uncategorized

This is my dream for the day.

September 20, 2010 1 comment

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.

So anyway.

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.

Enjoying the small things. Or trying to.

September 19, 2010 1 comment

I had a small upset the other day.

My sister called me Thursday, just to say hi. We got off the phone and I cried. Not because of our conversation, but because it hit me right then just how much I was going to miss this past weekend.

My cousin got married in Dallas, and my entire mom’s side of the family was there for the event. Except for me.

Then there was the biggest game of the season in Lubbock. And even though I’m not a particularly huuuuge football fan, I wanted to be there for it. To soak up the atmosphere, the excitement. Those games are electric. And I needed to be a part of it, to feel a connection to this ratty town.

Then today, I became even more frustrated because all anyone could tell me about either event was that it was good. Or a letdown.

How was the game? “It was good.” “It was hot.” “It was crowded.” Jesus, describe it for me, please. I want to know how you were crammed up against the person beside you; how the crowd roared when we scored. I want to know how loud the stadium was and I want to know how your heart swelled up with joy at being there. Because I know at some point it did.

How was the wedding? “It was good.” “It was crowded.” “It was crazy.” “The music was too loud.” Dude, tell me more! That was my family I missed out on. What did my cousin look like in her dress? Did my aunt cry? How did the groom look at his bride during their first dance? Why did my other cousin’s new baby look like? Make it come alive for me, please. Becuase I’m sad I missed it.

I’ve been reading a new blog, Enjoying the Small Things, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever read. This woman, she’s amazing. She’s so in love with life it was makes me want to go into the bathroom at work and just dance to the song in my head. Just to get it out, just to get some endorphins going so I can have a smile at my face at work. Instead of succombing to the frown dragging the corner of my lips down.

Last night, when I knew my friends were at the game, and my cousin and family were dancing their hearts out at the reception I kept trying to list small things to be happy about.

I got to do the photo page at work.

I had plans to see friends after 11.

Yeah. That was it.

It was so hard to hear everyone’s complaints about last night. I mean, really? You were there. Isn’t that enough?

And I keep going back to one thought. If I’m going to miss out on events like these because of work, do I really want to be missing out on everything while I’m in Lubbock?

Categories: Uncategorized

My watch is still set to Eastern standard time.

September 12, 2010 Leave a comment

It’s been four months and one day since I moved back to my little spot in Texas.

That means my time back in Texas has officially exceeded my time in Boston by one day.

And I don’t like it. Not one bit.

I miss you, Boston. And it’s not technically you; it’s the dream of you. It’s the joy of living, of trying something different. That’s what I wanted. This is why I drive myself every single second of every single day. So I don’t think. So I don’t feel you. So I don’t have to love you; so I don’t have to know how much you broke my heart.

Before today Boston still felt close — it still felt like something I’d lived recently. But now I’m realizing exactly how quickly that time is running away from me. Yesterday, I could look back and say, “One month ago exactly, I was doing this.” Or, “three months ago I was on my way to NYC for Valentine’s Day.” Somehow, now that I’ve been back longer than I lived there, it feels different. I felt like in some way my time here mirrored my Boston time, and maybe when next four months are up I could get the hell out again. And I feel like I can’t say those things anymore because then I’m truly living in the past and not paying attention to my life in front of me.

When I looked back at my move to Boston, I always smile when I think about that day: January 10, 2010. I thought it was the first day of the rest of my life; the day when my life would change. And it did. But I thought the next time I’d be in Texas I’d be a bonafide city girl, ready to swing through Midland for my best friend’s wedding, dazzle my friends and family with my newfound confidence and then resume my fabulous life in Beantown.

I woke up that January morning with a stomachache: Fear, uncertainty and excitement were at war within me, and I couldn’t decide which to let win.

I remember touching down on the runway at Logan and leaning past the man next to me to get a glimpse of my new city. I sighed, not really sure what to think.

There are so many things that made me happy in Boston, and so many things that were hurting me while I was there.

Those months in Boston stretched me further than I ever dreamed possible. I’ve talked about it before, in this post, about how much Boston tested me. Back at home, I could see the changes in myself. And that was important to me. My time in Boston wasn’t about having grand adventures (although those were wonderful); it was about growing up. Changing. Living. Figuring out what i want and what and want to do in life. Boston is still so much a part of me, it’s scary. Almost everything I experience here reminds me of life in Boston. Something. A song puts me back at a night in a bar in Fenway. A particular smell has me walking through the Common on a sunny day, just getting off work from my flower shop. And flowers — that job was rough and at times I despised it, but now I always stop and “smell the roses.” Or since roses aren’t technically fragrant, the freesia. My favorite.

But now. Now I’m in Lubbock. Now I have a job I’m grateful for, friends and co-workers I love, my family close by and an apartment all to myself. In the last four months, I don’t see any growth on my part. And that makes me sad.

What I’m figuring out is that I cut my grand adventure short way too early. I let go of living and let my fear bring me back here. Maybe Lubbock is the right place for me for the time being, but it’s not going to fulfill me for long.There’s nothing that drives me; nothing that moves me; nothing that really makes me question anything I believe. It doesn’t’ stretch me.

I went into my move naively; I didn’t see the future as something to think about. All I knew was that I wanted out and I wanted out now. Maybe I should have thought about it more; maybe I shouldn’t have been so “brave.” I should have had the foresight to realize problems would happen and I’d have to deal with them.

But, I didn’t. And I’m back in Lubbock. Things aren’t so bad, but it sucks to be so disappointed in myself.