25 Is Tough

My birthday is in a few weeks, and honestly I could vomit. In all seriousness turning 25 is really kind of freaking me out. And the more I say it the more people seem to be rolling their eyes. But in more honesty, why do I feel like the only one not holding it together?

Looking around I see two very distinct groups of people: There are those who are securely in their second or third year of a career, and those who have packed a suite case to run around the world.

Then there is me. In the corner, scratching my hives because I should have been so much further by now. In my mind 25 was always a time where I would have paid in cash for a car, have my career down pat, probably published a book, and own at least four pairs of heels with red soles.

None of these things have happened. And I’m not really sure why…

Don’t get me wrong, I am incredibly grateful for where I’m at. To have a business that lets me work with creative people, and people in my life who love me to my flawed core. To have a head over my roof and all the vegan chili a girl could need. I take none of this for granted.

But there is a part of me that wonders where the rest of it goes. Where do the big dreams go? How do we work them into our present life? And at the end of it all, do we float or do we sink?

When I was 12 I wanted to be a professional singer. I even recorded a demo in the local mall. I begged and pleaded to move across the country. The passion was as clear as a pimple. And the only thing stopping it from happening were my parents realistic mindsets. As an adult though, they aren’t the ones stopping you. Nothing is stopping you.

I hear that the days go faster as you get older, but most of the time it already feels like I’m waking up to the night. Life is a really cool thing, and we get some really great opportunities. It’s just the not being able to lay out all the options and stare at them meticulously for days on end to ensure you choose the correct one that scares me.


But really though. When do we get the book of answers?

But There Is Peace

This weekend I pulled up my shorts, tied a shirt around my waist, and traded in heels for Keds. It all felt very unfamiliar. But I bit my upper lip and drug the hipster print wagon piled high with floppy hats, laptops and Fossil bags across a dirt filled camp sight.

I was in Marfa, and all I could really think was how this wasn’t Hawaii.

We walked streets with out seeing a single soul but our own. We viewed mind changing art installations that consist of only cement blocks in a field. Looked up to a sky full of bright beaming stars which might have actually plucked out a piece of my heart. And met people. People who had just finished law school. People that have an every day life of simplicity. And people who were biking across the country. Everyone was doing things. Everyone was living.

I watched out of the car window as dirt turned into hills, which crawled up into mountains. I noticed the definition of the sky. Shocking what one can see when their head isn’t parallel to a computer screen. I did this thing that someone once told me was the only way to live. I saw through eyes and not a phone screen.

It was a trip full of good conversation, overflowing hearts, and one incredibly awkward photo in which I hope my hap hazard stance will be something to bind us for years to come. My heart felt a burst much like the one my stomach did while eating the most bomb grilled cheese sandwich one mouth has ever met.

And while I experienced these feelings so hard to put into words, all around us was pain. Pain being construed by us. We, the bodies that carry us through life, were destroying things.

To the angry and the sad, the mistreated and misused. To the hateful and the hurt. To those who hold pride in something which is not fueled by positivity. To you I am no one. Just a girl who sucked up her city life style for one weekend to tromp around in dirt. But I am one of you. We are all one of each other.

We can choose to fight or choose to hug. It sounds simple and mildly pathetic to say in context not associated to two kids on a playground with scraped knees produced by pushing. But at the end of the day they both hold the same outcome. To choose love brings us together hand-in-hand. To choose hate brings us together in the end.

No matter what you believe in, we are all buried in the same exact ground. Our hands are laid across our chest in the same exact manner. Our bodies covered with the same exact dirt. And our loved ones grieve in the same exact way.

By killing we are only crossing paths more quickly. By hating we are only dropping others off to hold our space in line. I wish for someone, anyone, to answer this one simple thing: Is it truly worth your heart beating anger until you become part of an earth that can form nothing but love?


Where I Wasn’t 6 Months Ago

Here is the thing about life: I know nothing about life. But what I do know is that time moves on wether we like it or not. No human can physically stop in a moment, we can only remember to take moments as they come and capture a mental picture for those times that seem too good to be true.

The other thing I know about humans is that we are really good at focusing on the bad. when I look in the mirror every morning I am not saying how awesome my eyelashes are, or how not washing my hair but once a week has allowed it to grow into a frame fitting cut. No, I look at the fact that I could lose a few more pounds, and that my legs don’t have one of those odd gaps that might not actually exist.

So when I look back at where I was six months ago it is only fair to start thinking of all the things I have yet to accomplish. Like where is my million follower blog, and coinciding book deal? What about those 5 more clients I wanted to have? None of these things are sitting at the front of my silver platter.

Then I catch myself.

Sure, we are not where we want to be, but we have got to stop thinking that way. Not that I’m asking to neglect our condescending mentalities. Just simply put a spin on them. Like  the spin I put on the story of me crashing my car into a tree the day before senior year. It wasn’t a bad thing that little Susie was mangled into pieces. It was clearly meant to happen and invite the option for me to get the dream Jeep I always wanted. Of course that came a year after driving around a horrid bench seat Pontiac that was older than I. We simply can’t win them all.

Six months ago I wasn’t able to get through a full day without crying. I also wasn’t nine months out of a life changing break up. Six months ago I wasn’t able to go into a bar without getting crazy eyes and fearing my survival. Now I can drink a whole drink with ease. I wasn’t able to confidently smile at a stranger, or hold a conversation with someone I hadn’t known for at least 10 years.

You would have never caught me stepping foot onto the grounds of ACL, let alone running to retrieve passes. Six months ago I wouldn’t have put down my computer for even the most perfect pair of Manolo Blahnik’s, and now I can spend an entire day (minus a few hours before others wake) only mildly panicking that I will miss something.

But most of all, 180 days ago I would have never been able to tell you just how lucky I am. How taking six months to open my eyes would inevitably shed light on this thing I call life. Where in times I used to think I had no one to relate too I had these people who have been there all along. I wouldn’t have been sitting at a brunch table laughing to tears, so full of love I couldn’t even manage to eat the brunch food. I wouldn’t have understood that I am so much more than myself. I am my family. My friends. Those who have stolen my heart and don’t even know it.

We are all so much more than the things we have or have not accomplished and we so rarely understand that. When you surround yourself with the right people, and the right work, you begin to understand yourself. But until then we will think of the negative in a bad way, when really it is the best thing that ever happened to us.

And I think  that is pretty awesome.


I Choose Neither

Perhaps my number one talent in life is watching TV. For a long time I kept my talent under wraps. People tend to get jealous of those who have an innate ability to keep their eyes pointed in one direction for hours at a time. For me TV is more than just a way to pass the time. It is a life lived from the comfort of my couch (or bed as this mornings work regime has it).

With each new show comes a new adventure. I take time is immerse myself in the latest shows, and breathe in the characters story lines. My latest obsession, and a rather long winded one, has been captivated in How I Met Your Mother. Not to ruin anything for those who have not seen it, and to join the masses on this statement, but I absolutely HATED the ending. And here is why:

For me the journey of HIMYM was a very real one. As those around Ted grew into lives of marriage and career changes he grew into nothing. Time after time he was left with a crushed spirit and no understanding of why life wouldn’t present his better half. He did everything right, yet was the only one who seemed to always get it wrong.

But that is just the thing about life, we don’t get the opportunity to chose. We can’t pull our careers or our love lives out of the closet like a winter coat or a yellow umbrella. We must roll with the punches and take things as they come. We can notice the good, but we can’t shield ourselves from any of the bad either.

We don’t get to decide which of our ex’s will get married before us, or how many of them wont decide they want us back. We can’t get up each morning and tell our bosses they can’t yell at us today. We can however, go through our entire lives only to think we made the wrong choice, or we can let life guide us to the right ones.

In the end I think HIMYM taught me that we don’t actually get to chose. Not at all. Not even a little bit.


Things I Didn’t Know

Dear Me,

You should probably know that soccer just isn’t your thing, and that’s okay. Really, athletic ability isn’t in the cards at all. From a young age you will impress people with your words, not your footing. Stick to that, it might be worth something in the long run. At least worth enough to keep your Aquatic Science lab partners on the edge of their seats for each installment of your novel staring that lanky, salad finger boy you can’t get over.

Speaking of outlandish things, like writing multiple full length novels instead of doing homework or drinking, don’t feel bad about loving too hard. Don’t ever give up on it either. I can’t say you will one day find an amazing man that conquers all the ones who came before. We aren’t there yet. But I can say that you really do learn a lot from all of cupids missed arrows. Respect yourself along the way, and understand the difference in the feeling of lust, and the feeling of giving in too quickly. Though above all else, know that your heart is big, and that is beautiful.

Also, know that you are beautiful. No matter how large your body becomes, and how short/black your hair ended up. You are beautiful from the inside out. And, after high school you actually become pretty decent looking (so you have that to look forward to). You will even get kissed by the guy of your dreams. Don’t be disappointed when it isn’t super awesome… We all have to learn some time.

Remember the scale is not your friend. And watching the pounds drop is not a hobby you should punish yourself with. Understand that life is more than a number. And be thankful that you are lucky to have true friends who will pick you up when you are too weak to do it on your own.

Dance often, and dance free. Not just with your feet, but with all you have. Life is far too short to take it for granted. Being uptight won’t get you anywhere good. Don’t push yourself above the limit, but play gracefully with the line.

Above all else, never forget to be your true self. To life with all you have, and dream bigger than the sun. Never forget how it feels to chase a goal, and how it feels to give up on one. Let yourself be strong willed and passionate. Don’t take for granted the nights spent crying on the floor. But always, always lift yourself back up with a little more than you did the time before.


Yours Truly,


Girl Talk, Because I said So


My life is one big overbearing opinion. So it only makes sense that I have a mouth full when it comes to relationships. I have spent a life learning hard lessons and watching my friends be left broken hearted only to say once more “Screw him! All boys suck. You will find way better anyways.”

We contradict ourselves in adjacent sentences and still our friends believe us. Even we believe us. It is outrageous.

But the thing about girls, is that we are actually all the same. Ladies rolling your eyes at me because you “are the only girl who doesn’t care about love,” stop. Your fooling no one.

We are hyper compulsive creatures and it’s about time we own up to it. Who ever said being crazy is a bad thing? Like when did it become a bad thing to give a shit? All we want is love. All we want is the one thing people work their whole lives to find. So sue us if we want it now.

Don’t get me wrong any potential mates I might encounter… I’m not going to sneak into your window at night and stare while you breather. We aren’t psychopaths. Well, most of us aren’t anyways. We simply care. It’s the way we were built.

See, the truth is I only know these things because for years I tried to not be this girl. I was always the one saying she wanted to live alone in a flat with an avocado tree while in my mind I was writing vows upon first introduction. I walked through life shielding my heart from the outside world because I didn’t want to be where I had seen so many others. In a ditch of failed hope.

Which is all this is. Hope. Girls hope with their whole hearts, and they get crushed with them too. I know no guy will read this and think “man, she is right.” They save those thoughts for sex encouraging articles. But I do hope girls can read it and realize they are just fine. That what they want to do is the right thing.

you can only regret the things you didn’t try. Not that I’m saying try to call a guy who isn’t answering you 40 times in a row…. That indeed, will cause regret. But don’t be ashamed of liking someone. Don’t be embarrassed if they don’t like you back. If you have a hunch he is fading away don’t claw him down, but also don’t hesitate to throw the “Hey, I might be crazy, but something seems weird” text.

And just remember, one day you will find someone who thinks those compulsive feelings are cute. Better yet, he even want to make sure they stay around forever. That’s right ladies, the nice guy isn’t the only one who wins in the end. The crazy girl does too.

Here’s To You, Dad


Give my sister 5 minutes and she will tell you just how spoiled I am. How when she asked for a belly-botton ring and was denied it was my sly talk, and dads lack of ability to say no to her younger sister, which had her dawning that tacky dangling jewel. Yes, it is true, my father does indeed love me with all his heart, and hate saying no even more.

Lets be real though, he loves her just as much, and gives her just as many things. Unfortunately for her cell phones were unheard of when she was in 5th grade, and her lack of begging ability really did disable.

The thing we can’t deny however, is just how much our father cares.

Growing up in a middle class family I never really understood just how many things we were given. The moment my computer broke dad was buying another. When I crashed into a tree, he made sure I had a car. When we HAD to do cheerleading, had to have letterman’s jackets that we never wore, had to buy ugly decals that my father would scrape off our cars just a year later, him and my mom opened their pocket books without hesitation. It was never a question of going to a private or public university, we had the choice.

We always had the choice, because we always had a dad who would pick up extra shifts and a mom who would do everything it took to give us what we needed. No, not what we wanted. We drove cars named little blue and did not get senior photos done. Something at the time I could not fathom. But we always had what we needed.

Over the years I have seen the way my father has struggled to give us exactly what we need to Be the person we believe inside. I watch his aching bones go in for shift after shift, and his tired eyes as he pushes on. I call him time and time again to bail me out when my car wont start, and he comforts me when my heart is broken. And it is because of these things that I try so hard.

Parents teach their children a lot of things in life. What manners are, how to escape a bully, when to say no, and how to live a productive life. My parents went the extra mile, they taught me what unconditional love is. They do the parent thing like it was written by them. They put us above everything in the entire world, even themselves and each other. There has never been a doubt in my mind that my parents love us with everything they have, even in the times when they might not have loves each other.

I look at my dad and see a fighter. Someone who shows hope to his family. Who taught us that a little bit of crazy is okay, as long as you know how to handle it. I see someone who never lets us down. Without him I would have never taken this chance on myself. I would never have something to strive for. Never learned what determination is. He has given so much, my only goal is to show him and my mom that it was worth it.

So thank you dad, I hope to make you proud.