ah, the late twenties

lately i have been wondering what i will do in 10 years.

with a lovely boy, fantastic friends, summer around the corner and a good-enough job, i am able to look to the future. i have learned this about myself: until all my immediate ducks are in a row, i can't even imagine looking forward.

as a bartender, i have an expiry date. i can go into management, or open my own place. that's about it. in about 5 years i will be too tired to work 'til 3 am, forcing me to take a job with less money but more humane hours. past that, as a female, and your looks "fade" (what a heartbreaking word to describe aging), you are basically useless.

as i smoked my first cigarette of the day on my brand new deck, i began to wonder: what do i want to study? i feel it goes without saying that i have to go to school. so. what am i passionate about? what do i want to spend thousands of dollars, and hours, learning about?

it is always at this point that i begin to panic. i realize everything i am passionate about it useless in the "real world". loving music isn't a job. being a good friend isn't a career path.

i have toyed with journalism, social work, teaching...but the thought of actually doing any of that for a living after 3-7 years of school kinda makes me uncomfortable.

then i think about my grandparents. their options were so different, and especially for my gramma, so limited. and when did we all decide that our careers had to be our passions? that is what hobbies are for, no? i mean, i love my work but i wouldn't say i am passionate about it. why am i comfortable serving douchebags jager bombs, but the thought of teaching a class of 4th graders makes me itchy?

ultimately, the longer i go humming and hawing, the more limitations i am creating for myself. i turn 29 in ten days. it is not old, but i am hardly truly young. i have sore feet and i start yawning at midnight. i am not running out of time but i am running out of steam.

so. maybe the question shouldn't be, what am i passionate about. perhaps, more realistically, the question is: what can i see myself being content with?

...and i'm a drama-holic.

for as long as i can remember, "drama" has been a part of my life. i was a dramatic child; my father was intensely so; my mother would remain calm 'til she finally exploded; my sister and i had epic battles covering the entire house.

throughout school, theatrics were unavoidable. every crush was the love of your life and girls just tore each other to shreds at the drop of a hat...the tears seemed to be endless, for me at least.

i think it was near the end of high school for me, so the late '90s/early '00s, when the actual term "drama" became part of our vernacular. i blame mary j. blige. suddenly boys were complaining girls were it, girls were claiming they weren't, and everyone was trying to avoid it.

i, while never wanting to admit it, felt uncomfortable when everything was calm. in my house, all that meant was something HUGE was coming. if days went by and dad was happy and mom was quiet and i wasn't in trouble, then the next storm was gonna be a doozy.

i have tried so damn hard to change. and while getting older and hormones balancing have helped, i've come to realize this is the one drug i can't seem to shake.

my addiction to the rollercoaster of my life terrifies me. it fucks my shit up. which, as we all know, is what differentiates casual usage and addiction. work is affected, my friendships are affected, family, and---it could go without saying but won't---my relationships are ruined by it. maybe if i let myself get it all out when i can feel it bubbling under the surface, but instead i try to stifle it. after all, i learned in grade 10 how much boys hate drama. "girls are crazy", they all insist(ed). and no girl wants to be crazy.

so i try and push it away. but i also tend to pour booze on it. and POOF! like throwing a cigarette on a gas leak, i explode...i used to yell. i used to slam doors and cry and insist i hated my parents. now, i shut down.

this scares me even more. i can feel the rage taking over my entire body. i know it's irrational, which makes me even angrier. but i can't let him/her/them see it. so usually i tear up. nothing makes me cry faster than anger. now i'm embarrassed, now i'm doing another shot, now you aren't even in the room anymore and i feel justified.

the thing is, i'm too damn old for this shit. the relationships that are being affected, i'm not willing to lose. i'm sick of being the drunk girl throwing a fit for some reason that doesn't exist. things in my life are fantastic. i have incredible friends, a great job, and an amazing man. things are good. i'm happy. things are calm. and with none of the old instigators around to shake things up, my subconscious leaves it to me. but now, it's time to let it go.

aaaand SCENE!

you've been lyin' when you should'a' been truthin'

i feel like a fraud. i have sat here, and in coffee shops and restaurants and bars, touting the same thing. projecting bravery when i feel nothing but fear. impulsiveness when i stand paralyzed, unable to move.

i thought that i was strong enough. i figured that since the weight of my past didn't seem so heavy anymore, i was ready to move on and look toward the future. but my future appears to be in front of me, my options are limitless, and yet here i sit, frozen in anxiety, unable to imagine a reality that isn't this.

someone has fallen in love with me. someone has figured me out, has seen me as me. i have never tried to seduce him, never hidden who i am from him...and there he is, overcoming his own serious baggage, to love me.

i have a job i can rely on. there are shitty politics and money isn't always great. but usually it is, and the people i work with are amazing. indeed, it is the best job i have ever had.

my family loves me, only wants me to be happy, and supports whatever i do even when they don't understand. i am finally building a relationship with a sister i've never felt close to.

so now i want to run. and not with the man, though he has expressed interest in going with me. i want to run away alone, even though i hate being alone (because i hate being alone???). i want to throw away everything i have worked for and want to sit on a beach and feel sorry for myself while sipping a pina colada.

nothing inspires me. i have no dream. no vision. any aspirations---career, family---are fleeting and forced.

i have all of the materials to create a masterpiece of a life, and I.CAN'T.DO.IT.

don't mess with texas

"you are the smallest person ever with a heart the size of texas"

words spoken by a new friend. and that's a compliment, right? i should feel warm, and fuzzy?

i didn't. and i don't. it made tears spring to my eyes and i feel defensive and used. my need for everyone around me to be happy has been affecting my own chance of that achievement.

a week ago, when i was responding to a verbal slap on my face from the "man" i was falling for, i found myself wanting to comfort him. all i could think of was that he must be feeling so terrible for saying what he was saying when he was saying it. and i didn't want him to realize i was as hurt as i was, so i smoothed over the situation and assured him i was ok. and why?! he was saying ridiculous things as i lay drunk and naked in his bed. tears streamed down my face as i lied and said i "didn't know what i wanted" from him, that i was "just having fun hanging out too".

i've always been this way. so determined to seem strong that i end up full-on lying. it always comes out, the hurt and anger i am feeling---although rarely directed at the person who deserves it.

in the last 3 weeks, i have been crying in public almost every day. it's not just this guy---there is SO MUCH more than that---but it's become abundantly clear that i have not processed my pain and anger from the last---oh, we'll say 3 years. given the opportunity, i can barely even speak about it. after a few drinks, well. that's a different story. and acquaintances wind up with the heavy load that is my baggage.

i know i'm not the only one going through a lot. i'm surrounded by people going through full blown crises. but i watch them go through the motions of life, and try to see how they're dealing with it all without crying at a bar after too much jameson, or comforting the asshole who just broke their heart. it's not that they're doing better than me---it's just that it seems like they are.

but even now, i don't know how i could yell at rob. or lawrence. or kyle. or my dad. i would start and then guilt and shame would wash over me and i would start to backtrack. declare i was overreacting, must be exhaustion/insecurity/pms...not them. no no, never them. it couldn't possibly be that they were flat out treating me like shit and i had the nerve to call them out on it. or that they lied to me and i want to know why. or that they single handedly broke me in half. or that they shouldn't treat the next one like this.

but really, all i want to say to any of them, or my girlfriends that have let me down, or to my bosses that have destroyed my professional spirit, or the monster that murdered my family friend, is:

please please please. don't break my heart.

keep on running

"i need you to be considerate. call/text when you say you will. assure me you prefer me on a sunday morning with my hair up and glasses on, but tell me how hot a look on a friday night. for the love of god, don't keep your hands to yourself. ever. kiss me---lots. make me laugh, let me cry. hold my hand. choose me over sleep, not all the time, just often. get to know my friends and let me get to know yours. cuddle me till we're both falling asleep and then give me some space. have your own life, but share it with me. read. get off the computer. put down the video game. don't keep your hands to yourself. ever."

i wrote that a little while ago, re: what i need. and guess what? i think i've found it.

well, i haven't cried, yet...

i've met a man. a MAN. he's amazing. by no means perfect in any way, but amazing. a few weeks ago, as i walked to work with my mum, i recounted my adventures in dating to her. she congratulated me for putting myself out there, for trying. i "harumph"ed and swore to take a bit of a break. i was exhausted in every way. after a summer of trying on every kind of guy, every type of "dating", every sort of approach, i was DONE. hell, i AM done. i dated kyle for 2 months, trying on the "cool easy going girl who doesn't ask for much therefore you should want to give it all to her" thing---fail. then i dated a couple guys at the same time: the actor douche and the ad exec i met at an afterhours---who, by the way, not only know each other but came in together after neither returning my last call---neither of which i slept with. nope. i went back to my roots for a bit and dated a kitchen boy dirtbag i met out late one night. he just asked for anal sex way too early and had the nerve to blow ME off. UGH. then i went on one date with a boy i actually picked up at my bar (not something i make a habit out of)---he was a socially awkward savant, i suspect. fail.

so that evening as i walked to work, i assured my mother i was taking a break from it all. i felt amazing throughout my shift, like a weight had been lifted. as we were closing the bar as quickly as possible to go downstairs and take advantage of the extended license, i got a text. it was from ryan, who i'd had a massive crush on in the spring but had gotten over. could i get he and some friends in? of course.

one of his friends is the man. i met him that night (although apparently i have met him several times in the past) and have been a goner ever since. he's interesting and mellow, with a super sexy record collection and the strongest lips i've kissed in i-don't-know-how-long. he's considerate and kind. he listens and remembers everything i say---which has made me more aware of what i say, something i do need to learn. there is an intimacy and comfort between us, and yet he keeps me on my toes. ugh, i'm just crazy about him.

and i am trying to focus on that. not get caught up in all the nuttiness that happens in my head when i like someone. i'm trying not to put too much on the poor guy. or assume the worst when certain things aren't how i expect. he's a man, finally. and i'm learning how to be a woman.

and the sky is gray

i've always had a hard time disguising my feelings. for better or worse, what you see is what you get in terms of how i feel about you, the situation i'm in, my mood...and for even better or even worse, it will probably have an effect on you.

at work, i've been instructed to take any steps possible to ensure my spirits are high. socially, the expectations are the same: people are used to me laughing, dancing, joking, smiling...i always have a bite to me, but generally i'm a happy girl.

on days like today, where my energy is low and my mood even lower, i find i end up feeling profoundly guilty. how dare i drag down my friends or coworkers because, essentially, "i don't wanna"?! and yet it pulls me down like quicksand. i can feel the metaphorical dark cloud settling above me and i see it i sense it i know it but POOF! too late and i'm done for.

it's one of my biggest flaws, and it affects every area of my life. i'm no angel, and i've had a fairly tough ride, but nothing holds me back more than my inability to essentially suck it up. maybe i haven't had it bad enough. the most consistently positive people i know seem to have the hardest luck. in fact i have three coworkers who's sparkle never fades, who always have a smile for me. and those three have had awful luck in so many areas of their lives. they're friends of mine, sure, but they treat everyone equally all of the time. it amazes me.

i focus so much on being positive and having good things happen. but when i have days like today, i feel like it's one step forward, 5 steps back. my impulsiveness seems careless. what i think of as decisiveness looks like forcefulness. everything i have worked so hard for seems like it could slip away.

it usually ends up ok, sometimes with an apology here and some backpeddling there (or just some time). if 70% of the time i am a pleasant and loving person, why can't i have some bad days? why do i immediately assume everything i love/worked for/accomplished is going to be taken away?

what comes first?

the chicken or the panic?

i've always prided myself in being a tough cookie. i have persevered through childhood traumas, my parents divorcing, being a teenager. first loves, first heartbreaks. big plans that didn't turn out the way i thought and big moves that left me coming home with my tail between my legs. not to mention everything else.

things that scare most people, don't seem to scare me. i'm not afraid of starting new jobs or moving across the country. when i know it's time to break up with someone and start over, it doesn't take me long to ensure that happens, while i watch people i love stay with partners they haven't loved for years. i can speak my mind and stand up for myself; confrontation comes easily to me. i make friends easily, get hired easily, and meet/date/fuck boys easily too.

when i meet someone i really like, as i have recently, i am not afraid to dive in. it doesn't even occur to me that my pace is unrealistic or that i may not get my way. sure i have the same insecurities as anyone else, but i just don't see the point in holding back.

within days of meeting this one, there is an intimacy beyond anything i've experienced before. to be honest, the closest comparison is when i meet a woman i know i will be friends with for life. but here, i also want to kiss the lips off his face and tear his clothes off. plus he loves all the same music as me and we talk about really amazing stuff. he thinks i'm fascinating and i think he's lovely.

when he confronted me with, really, some pretty rational fears and concerns, i panicked. it brought me crashing back to a reality i wasn't prepared for. at the same time, all i could think was "really? stupid, this is so simple! just relax, let this happen, it's amazing!". alas. the average person doesn't think like me. and while i can truly say he is not average...he's not me. and i would never claim to be better than anyone, but i feel very lucky that those hang-ups and mental blocks never happen to me. i even said, "what's the worst that can happen, you can break my heart. so?"

the thing is, most people would literally do anything to prevent their heart from being broken. and i get it, i guess...but...for your heart to be broken it means it was fully open. you got to feel everything and really love someone and let yourself be loved and open to things you cannot possibly foresee. and i know THAT'S what is scary. not knowing how something is going to turn out. but isn't it pretty exciting too?

i have no idea what's gonna happen with this super lovely, super sensitive, special man. but i'm definitely not gonna chicken out now, and not find out.