Year one

365 days under the belt. It's really quite amazing how fast a year can go when you're not really paying attention. I am overwhelmed when I think of all that has happened in my first year of marriage. First apartment together, name change, my mother stopped speaking to me, layoffs at work, I got sick, family passed away, classes, homework, managing a team of six... Everyday I stop to remind myself how much I have not yet accomplished in my life. I dwell on my failures and my losses. I fixate on them and I'm excellent at it. Rarely do I consider all that has occurred...all I have, in fact accomplished, and endured. I'm not complaining, honestly. What would life be without a few challenges. I'm pretty sure I enjoy them. But sometimes, its important to remember that even the smallest accomplishments like getting up when you are exhausted are still an accomplishment. And being happily married for one year is today's accomplishment. Love you dear.

Dentist Face

I have it. That tight uncomfortable feeling your entire face has after going to the dentist. There is that weird 'toothpaste' they use on their rubber toothbrushes plastered to my cheeks and my hair looks like I just went a few rounds with my husband. It's always the same. I could spend hours getting ready before my appointment, and yet when I leave that office, I'm a disaster. Despite the fact that my face hurts, this unraveling of my morning beauty routine brings a smile to my face. Because I am reminded of what is truly important about my visit to the dentist: do I go with the straight toothbrush with the extra soft bristles or the Reach for those hard to reach back teeth?

Why does anyone want an ice hotel?

I have no idea what the answer to that question is. I see these stupid ice hotels created every year and wonder why the hell people both. Anyway, I was feeling the urge to write so let's see what we get.

I'm avoiding my homework. I should be teaching myself Dreamweaver right now. So as you can see, I thought blogging might assist in that process. Look, I am so not a web designer. I'm OK with it. I don't supposed this will help my grade any.

I'm also avoiding adding some pages to my first attempt at writing a book. I always thought I loved to write/was a decent writer until I actually sat down to write a book. Why I assumed the process would be easy, I have no idea. It's not. And well, just like any other type of work, this too has its downfalls. The main difference for me with writing as opposed to my 9-5 is that I ALWAYS feel I've accomplished something after I've produced a piece. It could be a three word sentence on the back of a gum wrapper or a twenty page research paper. Either way, I'm satisfied. I cannot say this about my JOB.

Clearly it's not the topic that is important to me but rather the fact that I'm able to identify my feelings at all and get them on paper. So is this why writing a book is hard? I mean there is so much to think about. One, identifying how I feel about the characters two, identifying how I'm feeling in general, and THREE, separating just enough of my personal feelings from the story to let my characters live in their own emotions. And this is just the beginning.

Ugh. I spend a lot of time in my head. Enjoy today's mental discharge.

Loss and reality

I learned today that my boss was leaving our company. I swore when I started my job five years ago that when she left, I left. At the time, it was simply because I was scared of what my work environment would be like without her there. Now I know regardless of her presence, my day will be filled with large amounts of bullshit and incompetence. When I decided to leave, it will simply be because it's my time.

But it's not the tedium of my 9-5 that causes me to write today. My biggest concern is the sense of loss I feel that comes with her departure. Which got me thinking, loss is amazingly complicated. In this instance, I am sad to see her leave and afraid for what will fill her void in the future.

This loss is minor in comparison to most. And yet all forms of loss feel strangely the same. Disoriented, a little empty, and longing for a content replacement come to mind. I know my loss requires change and perhaps this is the reason loss can be so devastating. It causes unwelcome change.

Keep it simple

I've been whining about being a writer forever it seems. It seems, in fact, that I've been whining about a lot of things in general lately. People tend to stay away from whiners so for this reason, most of the truly annoying stuff is internalized, only to torture my soul later.

I've decided that I need a journal for the rants and raves that I am too cowardly to voice or the ones that should just never been said out loud. I've always wanted to be a writer so even if no one reads this blog, at least I can say, I allowed myself to write and did not hide behind the fear that it might suck. And it probably will. At least at first. But I'm hopeful.