They unfolded abruptly and with tons of emotions swirling about but I’ve come to realize that I needed my world rocked.  Because I wasn’t living for God.  And now?  I am.

Life is a bumpy road.  But I take comfort knowing that God will never leave me nor will He dish up more than I can handle.

So, I’m taking a hiatus.  I’m going to strengthen my faith and walk with God.  I’m going to prepare to be a mother.  I’m going to continue to stand by my man.  I’m going to learn and grow in this time.

Thank you to all of my well-wishers.

And for my un-well-wishers?  Thank you, too.  I know there will be opposition in my life.  And you guys proved it.

Nonetheless, I say to all of you: God bless you.  Live every day as though it’s your last.  It always carries that possibility.

Eleven days ago I found out Jay and I are going to be parents.  Think what you will, scoff if you like, but Jay and I both are convinced that this baby is from God.  We know that it isn’t “the right time” and “this isn’t how we wanted things to be” but you know what?  I am so sick and fucking tired of hearing “it shouldn’t have been this way” or “the timing is off”.  You can plan your life until you’re blue in the face but I truly believe that God has plans for us all.  I could waste my time and energy wallowing in what-ifs and shoulda-coulda-woulda’s but I choose to move forward.  I choose to be happy that I’m participating in two of God’s greatest miracles: pregnancy and parenting.

In my heart of hearts I know that Jay and I are strong people and select members of his family and nearly all of mine have expressed such joy and optimism regarding our newest addition.  My mom has shown such strength and support that I feel foolish because I kind of forgot she had it in her.  She has listened to me cry, laughed with  me, encouraged me and quieted me.  All at the right times.  Jay’s dad makes sure I get a call almost every day, usually containing a message from Jay (that always is something like “Jay says he adores you and that you guys are going to make it through this”).  While his dad may have been absent in the past, he is anything but in this situation.  He has made sure Jay has money to purchase stationery and deodorant, envelopes and a toothbrush.  He had the money to Jay before Jay could say “lawyer”.  He has proven that he truly supports Jay, never drawing a judgment or spatting a harsh word from his own personal hurt and sorrow related to this situation.

I have experienced a variety of reactions about this baby and while I acknowledge the concerns, I refuse to listen to pessimism and negativity.  Because I am past that.  And it’s counter-productive.  When I have so little energy these days, why would I waste it on that??

I was deeply offended by Britt’s post.  To me, it felt entirely negative, as if I were bearing a dark cloud that will forever rain on us all.  I was assertive enough to tell her, too.  I understand that we are all free thinkers and that this situation does not affect only me but I do feel that I am most directly affected.  Jay is a part of me, literally and figuratively.  He is the love of my life and I am his.  And now we are three.

Over the course of this month, Jay’s brother has decided he doesn’t want to speak with me, either.  I am completely at a loss about this, considering he was our number one cheerleader no less than two weeks ago.  I know that we all deal with things differently but it still feels like rubbing alcohol in a fresh cut.

And yet, I am still at peace with things.  I know things are tough but I also know that I’m tougher.  And once Jay and I are out of this dark tunnel we will live a quiet, honorable life.  And those who have shown us love will be right there beside us.

I’m reading a fabulous book that I attribute most of my peace and strength to: A New Earth by Eckhardt Tolle.  It’s phenomenal.  Life changing.  I recommend it to everyone.

And I’ll close with an excerpt:

                                                                    THE PEACE THAT PASSES ALL UNDERSTANDING

There are many accounts of people who experienced that emerging new dimension of consciousness as a result of tragic loss at some point in their lives.  Some lost all of their posessions, others their children or spouse, their social position, reputation, or physical abilities.  In some cases, through disaster or war, they lost all of these simultaneously and found themselves with “nothing”.  We may call this a limit-situation.  Whatever they had identified with, whatever gave them their sense of self, had been taken away.  Then suddenly and inexplicably, the anguish or intense fear they initially felt gave way to a sacred sense of Presense, a deep peace and serenity and complete freedom from fear.  This phenomenon must have been familiar to St. Paul, who used the expression “the peace of God which passeth all understanding.”  It is indeed a peace that doesn’t seem to make sense, and the people who experienced it asked themselves: In the face of this, how can it be that I feel such peace?

The answer is simple, once you realize what the ego is and how it works.  When forms that you had identified with, that gave you your sense of self, collapse or are taken away, it can lead to a collapse of the ego, since ego is idenitification with form.  When there is nothing to identify with anymore, who are you?  When forms around you die or death approaches, your sense of Beingness, of I Am, is freed from its entanglement with form: Spirit is released from its imprisonment in matter.  You realize your essential identity as formless, as an all-evasive Presence, of Being prior to all forms, all identifications.  You realize your true identity as consciousness itself, rather than what consciousness has identified with.  That’s the peace of God.  The ulitmate truth of who you are is not I am this or I am that but I Am.

…

Whenever tragic loss ocurs, you either resist or you yield.  Some people become bitter or deeply resentful; others become compassionate, wise and loving.  Yielding means inner acceptance of what is.  You are open to life.  Resistance is an inner contraction, a hardening of the shell of the ego.  You are closed.  Whatever action you take in a state of inner resistance (which we could also call negativity) will create more outer resistance, and the universe will not be on your side; life will not be helpful.  If the shutters are closed, the sunlight cannot come in.  When you yield internally, when you surrender, a new dimension of consciousness opens up.  If action is possible or necessary, your action will be in alignment with the whole and supported by creative intelligence, and the unconditioned consciousness which in a state of inner openness you become one with.  Circumstances and people then become helpful, cooperative.  Conincidences happen.  If no action is possible, you rest in the peace and inner stillness that come with surrender.  You rest in God.

A New Earth pp. 56-58

That passage is what speaks to me and I’m keeping my shutters open, letting every and any ounce of sunshine in.  I’m not masking my hurt by doing that, I’m yielding to it.

I keep telling myself ”I get it.  I’m not his family, his flesh and blood.”  But it still hurts.  It hurts because I cannot even count the number of times I have heard Jay’s voice tell me “You’re all I care about when this is over, I don’t want to lose you.”  Which usually makes tears spring to my eyes.  “I’m not leaving you, I promise.  I promise, I promise, I promise….”  I need him to believe those words.  Because I know they mean the world to him.  And I mean what I say.  I’m not leaving.

People are so gracious and supportive and kind, offering prayers “…for Jay and his family.”  But I don’t fall into that sentence, not without assumption.  It hurts me, yes.  Is it selfish to be rambling about this minor detail?  Probably.  But blogging is my therapy.

I’m tired of thinking about the what-if’s and the how’s and why’s of the penal system.  I’m tired of worrying about what other people think of me, whether they view me in the light of “just his girlfriend” or “love of his life”.  All I care about is what is between Jay and I.  I know how much Jay loves me and he knows how much I love him.  Sounds like basic math, right?  Factor in members of a family with many emotions and I start feeling like I’m insignificant.  Just the girlfriend. 

Jay’s brother is probably the biggest cheerleader our relationship has right now.  Jay and he could be twins, I swear.  Their mannerisms are so much alike, it’s uncanny.  Oh, yeah, my point…  Jay’s brother has faith that I’ll remain good on my word.  And he even offers supportive sentiment such as, “He’s crazy about you; I know you guys will get through this.”

I have learned so much from this already.  And it is only Day 6.  I am learning that judgments don’t propel anyone forward.  Love is love, no matter the title.  Strength comes over time, and you might just surprise yourself at how strong you are.  Nobody is perfect.  Good people make bad choices. 

I guess I do not care what opposition I may face, my loyalty lies with Jay.  Our love is between only us, nobody else.

“Whatever you do, you need courage. Whatever course you decide upon, there is always someone to tell you that you are wrong. There are always difficulties arising that tempt you to believe your critics are right.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

I use this blog as a place to vomit my feelings, fears, hopes, questions.  I am here now because it is like my diary.  An open diary, yes, but still a place where I can have something akin to a cathartic experience.  I guess the only thing that makes blogging different (for me) from catharsis is that I don’t feel spiritually renenwed after I write about this tough stuff.  I don’t feel better, just less anxious.

The Wizard of Oz is playing through my head.  I don’t know if it’s because Jay and I watched it together so many times or if it’s just meaningless.  But the characters stick in my mental picture, each of them symbolizing a piece of strength that I’m trying to summon.

First and foremost, I feel like I woke up in Oz on Friday morning.  That was when I first learned the news of what Jay is up against from the detective.  The wind was knocked out of me and I was in disarray.  (I still am.)  When I opened the door to my home, I was awestricken.  I knew from that moment on that nothing would ever be the same and also that I cannot comfortably be there without him there.  Much unlike Dorothy, my life has not repaired itself in the two to three hours of the movie’s length.  It won’t be that easy, because Oz is not real and this is the most real situation I’ve ever had to face in my life.  Not to mention Jay. 

Like Dorothy, I have always been a dreamer.  I dream of a better life.  Even now, I still daydream about the years after this mess is over.  And I know that that could be many years.  But I refuse to stop dreaming because that is what propels me forward, most of the time.

Sometimes I sit in external silence.  My mind is always reeling with thoughts, fears, hopes.  My mind is never silent.  Jay is always there.  Sometimes I can see him happy and joking, or calm and kissing me; sometimes I see him alone in the cell, orange jumpsuit.  I guess I don’t really care in what form Jay comes to my mind, just as long as he’s there.

I think about the Scarecrow.  “If I only had a brain.”  I relate this character to the “shoulda coulda woulda” sequence that is probably rolling through everyone’s mind.  Shoulda done this, shouldn’ta done that.  But you know what?  It’s been done.  And the only thing to do is continue on this “Yellow Brick Road”.  I think, for my own intents and purposes, I am going to rename it the “Black Suck Road”.  Because I can.

Then the Tin Man.  I feel serenity when I think of the Tin Man because I believe that I have a big heart.  My heart is reminding me constantly that I love Jay and through love all things are possible, right?  RIGHT?!?  I know that my heart is hurting and in those moments of despair I feel like it’s not even there, but I know it’s true.  That’s one less thing I have to ask the Wizard for.

Oh, and the Lion.  He’s the character I identify most with, I think.  Because the thing I need the most right now is courage.  Courage to face the opposition of standing beside the love of my life.  Courage to feel his absence but not to be lost in it.  Courage to keep hoping for a miracle.  Courage to be good on my word to Jay, words that I speak with ferocity: “I am NOT LEAVING YOU.”  End of story.  That’s the only way I see it. 

The Wicked Witches and Flying Monkeys are going to try to punish him, for that is their job.  But I’m praying that the Witches and Monkeys will unveil their eyes and see before them a good, kindhearted, gentle person who knows he has wronged people but also knows he can be better.  If they will just do that.  For Jay. 

That’s where I need the courage.  The courage to believe that people are good, and that good people can identify other good people.  Where the Hell is Glinda when you need her?  I could sure as fuck use that cute little wand adorned with a shiny star…

All in all, there is no place like home.  For me, I’m not quite sure where home is right now.  I guess I don’t feel like anywhere is home without Jay.  But I need the courage to put the melancholy feelings aside and lift my chin.  I need to start working on taking care of myself so I can get through this long road of anticipated 20 minute visits and letters to an inmate. 

My M.O. right now is to prepare for his return, no matter how long until that happens.  I will work and sleep and eat and write and visit, all for the end of the road.  When I can hug and kiss him and sleep next to him.  I am willing to fight  my way out of Oz for Jay.  Yesterday, today, tomorrow. 

So, it seems we’re off to see The Wizard, or the Judge.  Is The Wizard going to feel generous?  I don’t know.  We have to wait and see.  But I’ll be replaying the Wizard of Oz in my head over and over until I know anything for sure.  I’ll latch on to the idea that courage is attainable.  I’ll latch on to the knowledge that I do have a heart, filled with love.  And onward I go, down the Black Road of Suck.

If you see Glinda, could you direct her to me, please?

I, legally, cannot divulge.

I, as a human, can continue to love.  That’s all I’m clinging to right now, the love of my life.  The unknown drives me to insanity but I don’t care.  I’m hanging on for him.  For me.  Because he is a part of me. 

Jay is a good person.  He wouldn’t hurt a fly.  He loves kids and couldn’t wait to start a family with me.  As it stands, he may or may not get to be a daddy.  I don’t know.  Nobody does.  What I do know is that I can’t wait to hear his voice on the phone today.  I can’t wait to go visit him on Monday.

I can’t wait, I can’t wait, I can’t wait.  But I have to.  We all do. 

They say I’m a part of their unit.  I am eternally grateful to be near them during this time.

All I have is love.  I love him, no matter what. 

There just aren’t any more words.

I actually like to read the newspaper in its entirety.  While reading the day old USA Today Life section last night, I came across an article of interest.

“Cartoon ‘Dustin’ hits close to home“  The headline blared at me.  An article about cartoons?  (All the better that I had a wine buzz going!)  I read on.  “..sign of the times that the hottest new…will be about an unmarried, unemployed 23-year-old…at home with his parents.”  (Please don’t worry that I have an extreme vision problem that only allows me to read pieces of sentences.  This is how I read.  I put my inferring skills to good practice and if I can’t follow then I read it word-for-word.  I like to be fast at stuff, what.)

I read on to discover that Dustin’s creators, Steve Kelley and Jeff Parker had a few obstacles at getting it published.  And did they ever!  “Parker’s home paper, Florida Today, had to remove Cathy to fit it.”  That got my attention.  I read more of the details about the main character.  Damn.  They describe the general premise of how my generation is.  23-year-old, lives at home, no job, no motivation to get (or keep) a job, and a strong influence of video games in the mix.  Dustin nails it on the head:

“I just can’t seem to take it to the next level,” the jobless Dusting groans in one early strip.  “I’m sure you’re going to find a great job really soon,” his mothre reassures.  “Job? I’m talking about Tetris,” he says.

Exactly.

My first [stereotypical] judgment of this implication came two-fold– a) it’s true and b) it’s a damn shame.  In my head I said, “Come ON.  You’re supposed to be an adult and here you are, mooching off your parents!”  Thank goodness the tried-and-true USA Today shows two sides to the story!  Attributing this living arrangement to the economy, the article goes on to say “…Far more grown children lived witht heir parents in the past — 70% of single twentysomethings in the 1940′s. Today it’s less than half…”  Oh.  Ok.  Well, I’m not a part of these statistics (and haven’t really ever been, having worked since I was 14) but I’m glad that it’s a part of our society.

Mostly, I really do feel that a lot of people my age have substandard work ethic and are (by comparison) lazier than I, but I am keeping my New Year’s resolution in mind: be less pessimistic.  I am making a conscious effort to tone my judgments down.  I’m not saying that a snarky comment about how living at home is lame won’t come out here and there.  But I’m willing to make an effort to judge less, because a handful of Jay’s and my friends actually are Dustin.  We know that our friends won’t live with their parents forever,  but none of them seem to ready to be on their own entirely.  Alas, they are our friends, and each have circumstances surrounding the housing bidness.  One’s in grad school, another two are trying to find their footing in this big world and are in between jobs.  And with that recession and all…

I’m glad that my friends who live at home have such loving and providing parents.  I may envy this a little and maybe that’s what translates into my horrible stereotype?  Ah, clarity. 

Of course, times are tough.  I don’t want to sound like some whinykins, bitchin’ because I’m broke but really.  Groceries are expensive.  Gas.  Toiletries.  Bam!  It all adds up.  Life can have some pretty tough pitches for us– trying to find a job, needing a car, etc.  I know that I’m more financially stable now than I have ever been but  I remember (and still sometimes am) being just plain broke.  I am lucky to have a couple of aunts who were able to help me when, in the grand scheme of things, my friends were in the same spot at some point and it was their parents who helped them along.  All the while I was thinking that less people my age shouldn’t need their parents as much anymore but in reality we all needed them the most during those first couple of years away.  

I’m sure mostly all of you have done it: moved away from home.  And you can recall those feelings of lonliness, longing for a familiar town, with familiar people and cars and all of it.  Oh, I guess they call that homesickness.  Yes, that’s it.  My generation is lucky to have generally loving parents.

But when do you draw the line and when does it become enabling?  I don’t know, nor do I much care, because this comic is hopefully going to give me feelings of nostalgia when I read it at age 40.  I hope this comic has that staying power mostly for that reason (delayed gratification, people!) and also because I like comics.

I’m looking forward to “Dustin” as I typically like animation/cartoons as a way to deliver satire.  Actually, I just like real-life connections with my entertainment.  Good luck to this budding comic!

Source:   http://www.usatoday.com/life/comics/2010-01-04-BOOMERANGKID04_ST_N.htm

Also?  If this post struck your fancy and you want to read a more informative (ahem. better.) essay check this out: http://www.floridatoday.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=20101030306

“You know what?  Turning 21 is going to sorta suck, too.”  My friends looked at me, their faces quizzical.  “Why?!”  “Because, I mean, we are so excited to turn 21 but we’re gonna have some, like, after-effects.  Like, ‘Now what?’”  My friends ultimately agreed with me.  Deep down inside I wanted to enjoy every year of my twenties.

Now, I’ll be 23 on January 24.  Can I just say that I’m way more excited for my birthday next year?  Is that strange?  Isn’t it easy to see why, though?  It’s my golden birthday.  Next year.  Anyways… I love my birthday.  I always start a Birthday Countdown on Christmas Eve.  I don’t really know why I’m so infatuated with mah birthday, I just am.  It’s not a characteristically Aquarius thing, either; I checked.

My real point is this:  I feel there is a huge difference between being 23 and being 21, even if it is just two years’ difference.  The main reason I say this is because I’ve noticed I’m perfectly content sitting at home, sipping wine and watching my favorite shows or doing other lassaiz-faire activities (blogging, reading, etc.) whereas most 21 year olds are rip-rearin’ to go, just dying to go out and party.

Yeah, yeah.  I did it, too.  And I know nearly everyone who reads this will be all like “You’re NOT OLD. Stop talking as though you are!”  And to that I’ll reply,”Shut up.  I’m expressing my thoughts!” 

Oh, you’re still reading, even after the conversation I just had with myself via blog?  Good! 

But, really, do you know what I’m sayin’? 

Even one of my friends from high school tweeted about staying home and doing nothing on a Saturday night and loving it.  And I just think that calls for a “Hell yeah!”  Because I’m the girl who’s perfectly content being a homebody.  Don’t get me wrong, I can still throw a round of darts and shoot whisky.  Don’t worry your pretty little head ’bout that. 

I’m just saying that I feel more mature and calm.  But maybe that’s because I’ve always known how to handle myself in a bar? 

There are only 19 more days…  In nineteen days (from tomorrow, a full day) I’ll be only two years away from 25, the whole mid-twenties plateau.  I’m excited.  I’m finallly catching up to the “how old I really feel” range.  (I’ve felt like I was 25 or 26 since I was 18.  Really.)

In 19 days I’m going to show those freshman-too-tanned-bitches how to do it right.  Even if it is Sunday night!

Aw, Hell, I’ll probably end up eating Arby’s for supper and just drinking wine at home.

With that, I bring you a bulleted list.  None of the items is too big or too small for mention.

I love…

• waking up next to Jay, and sometimes waking before him and watching him sleep.  In those quiet moments I find myself thanking God that I am exactly where I need to be.
• the smell of a freshly mowed lawn, and my perfume wafting in a spring breeze (and then after I’ve been outside for a while and can smell a variation of my perfume, this time with a hint of warmed-by-the-sun-smell-a-la-moi).
• the smell of a saddle.  And fly spray (for horses).
• a brand new notebook.  And Sharpie pens!
• my brother and sister… To the moon.  I only hope they love me with the same energy, and I hope that they actually like me, not just “love” me.
• the memory of when my parents were functional parents: Mom cooking supper while Dad played Chinese Checkers with Chelsea and I.  I’m only sorry Cody missed out on this chapter of childhood.
• to tell the story of how Chelsea and I put furniture polish on Cody’s feet and bottom and pushed him around on the hardwood floors of our childhood home.  We even made a “pillow helmet”, secured with an orange shoestring, for safety.
• to drive.  I drove approximately 55% of the trip to Florida, including in-state driving.  I love being on a new road, sun beating down. 
• car rides with Jay.  I look forward to travel being a main hobby later on in our lives.
• trees.  I think they’re so expressive, and beautiful.
• brand new socks. 
• being a nurse.  I know it was meant to be.
• to be surprised.  And pampered.  I think in a past life/different realm I was royalty.  I guess I say that because I struggle with admitting that maybe I deserve those things.  I usually put myself last. 
• to read.  I’m completely in awe of this Twitter-Facebook-blog-internet-on-your-BlackBerry-generation I belong to!  I love that we are all real people who just want to connect, to share the array of moments in our everyday lives.
• my story thus far; my life.  I look forward to good things in the new decade.  It will be most interesting to compare now and then!
• that no two days are exactly the same.  No matter how bad a given day was, I can always strive for progress the next day.

 I have also decided to stop being a pessimist and begin taking the optimist train.  This parallels nicely with the aforementioned   I am cleaning my closets, ridding myself of clutter (emotional and otherwise).  I am not a victim.  I have a good life.  I need to appreciate it more before Karma herself decides to one-up me and prove to me that I have a lot going for me… Like, as in, with a debilitating lesson that may involve an injury.

I have always been hard on myself.  That being said, I think I spend a lot of time thinking about ways I could’ve done things better.  It is beginning to occur to me that in those times, maybe, just maybe all that was needed was my presence.  My undivided attention to the company and fellowship of my family.  I am making a personal committment to be more relaxed, and fully enjoy the moments.

I am taking this self-betterment/self-awareness thing quite seriously.  I want to be the best me I can before I have children (and while I raise them).  I want my kids to know that they are worth having a momma who is good for them, who never wants them to hurt in any way.  I want them to know that I prepared myself to be their mom, because, in a way, I loved them before they are even born. 

Can I just say that this being a woman thing?  Is amazing and daunting all at the same time.  I am filled with the nurturing and compassionate feelings of a maternal creature while all in the same, I am the chick who is only in her early 20′s and loves her freedom, her life sans kids and the opportunity for sleeping in and taking naps that all of this creates.  If that isn’t confusing…!

Today I am 22.  In 22 days I will be 23.  On 01/24/2011 I will be 24.  I am excited to see where I will be, how I will feel on my golden birthday!  I raise my glass of ice water to all of you and offer a belated “Happy New Year!”

Because drinking ice water makes you a better person, too.

I’ve reached a point in time where I’m no longer able to help my sister.  In only one short month, I’ve realized that I am not ready financially nor emotionally to invest so much of myself into another person, especially a person who is so close to me.  Knowing how emotionally sensitive our relationship can be, it has been difficult for me to be myself.  Knowing that I’m a pretty cut-and-dried person at times and maybe come off a little too brash, I’ve found myself censoring my thoughts and comments… and that in and of itself makes me wonder what kind of a person I really am?

Jay and I have grown quite used to each other.  We are a quirky pair, with a weird little rhythm together.  Our little two-bedroom apartment suits us quite well and while I didn’t think that adding a third person to our equation was a fantastic idea, I didn’t think I’d miss our privacy that much.  But I do. 

Am I a selfish bitch for feeling this way?  I teeter back and forth on my own answer.

I feel like I have failed my sister in some way; I feel like I built up her hope in my own dreams for her and now I’m realizing that all of this just isn’t conducive for comfortable living.  I feel like I’ve let her down by telling her that I’m no longer willing/able to try to make this work anymore.

I feel like I am slowly being suffocated.  I do take into consideration that it’s winter and we’re all in this little apartment together BUT.  I’m calling a spade a spade.  Knowing how selfish this sounds, I’m still gonna say it.  I miss my routine, my apartment, my life.  There.  Now, why isn’t that weight lifted off of my shoulders??

I wish it were less complicated.  Alas, life is complicated.

I love my sister, I really do.  I still have big goals for her.  I still want her to dream big and work hard and go for it; just put the pieces of life into place. 

I hope that just by living my life in this little corner of the world I may have made some impression on her. 

I know that I’m no saint.  My life is not glamourous. 

I’m just a girl, trying to please every single person that I’m emotionally invested in.

I’m just a girl, who is realizing that trying to please everyone but myself is leaving me with a hurting heart.

Starting now, I will take more time to fully evaluate big decisions.  I will make an honest effort to act more rationally, to think of all parties involved and be most sensitive to Jay. 

That’s another thing… My beloved Jay deserves the best of me.  He is the one who has seen me through thick and thin and is always the one I wake up to.  He and I have made an unspoken pact with each other– we have each other’s backs.  And for that, he deserves me to be happy, for when I am not happy he gets the ugly side.  Poor guy.  But he’s still here, loving me and supporting me all the same.

A thousand pardons for the rambling quality of this post…  I thank you for “listening”.

You see, I went about this year thinking I was God’s gift to the people in my life.  I’ve realized of late that I’m getting quite bitchy and prudish.  I built every event up in my mind, during my constant daydreams before I actually moved to Iowa City and joined my true love in the same zip code again.  Those many many nights alone in my cold, one-room loft apartment on Main Street in Cedar Falls gave way to me lying in bed, missing Jay and just daydreaming about how fantastic 2009 was going to be.  

I now realize that those moments were really a false promise I made to myself in a moment of hurt.  I was being aloof and idealistic when I should have been practicing being a pragmatist.  (Don’t get me wrong: I am completely satisfied with my life– as is.  Remember when I said that this Christmas was just what I needed?  Yeah, I’m getting there…)

I’ve spent a majority of 2009 learning to “live presently”, as instructed by my best friend, Austin.  I thought I was getting a pretty good hang of it when all of the sudden the leaves began to change and Daylight Savings Time came and went and with the changing of the seasons, so did my mood.

I’ll tell it to you straight: I have depression.  And when I don’t get my sunlight, watch out.  But you know what?  I’m tired of using that as a crutch.  Chemical imbalances aside, having this funky-daylight-withdrawal-syndrome does not allow me nor should it encourage me to be a pessimist.

I’ve noticed myself being extra snooty and rationalizing it my head because “I work really hard” or “I’m just seasonal… _____ will know not to take me seriously”.  WOW.  Not a healthy thought process.  And this Christmas showed me that I am not the only person in the equation that equals “life” and that the things I say have a direct effect on how people react and therefore the tone of the conversation.

I didn’t get to see my little brother today.  It breaks my heart but it was simply the way the cookie crumbled.  A lot of circumstances leading up to Christmas kind of made it shifty as far as planning goes.  My grandpa underwent hip surgery no less than two weeks ago and also Mother Nature has been pissed at the Midwest, showering various parts with freezing rain and others with a hellacious blizzard. 

Back to the daydreaming– I pictured Christmas 2009 as the big hurrah, the final great holiday in a series of great holidays in 2009.  But you know what?  It wasn’t picturesque, as I had so desperately imagined.  I didn’t see anyone from my natural family besides my sister.  I was feeling sorry for myself when I realized that Hello narcissist, none of your family was able to get together, either.  Your little brother didn’t get to see his sisters and your mom and dad missed out on their daughters’ presence. 

We had to leave early to make it home before the storm hit.  The storm that meteorologists have been forecasting to dump over a foot of snow on us, the same storm that failed to do anything remotely close thus far.  But for about an hour, I was nervous to be on the road.  We passed approximately three cars in the ditch and we even skidded across the lane on a little patch of ice.  That being said, I’m glad we left when we did.

The important thing is that  we made it home, safely.  We are together, if not all of us.  We are calm and relaxed, enjoying the moment.  We are winding down from the hustle-and-bustle and preparing ourselves for the long months of January and February.

This Christmas has been wonderful, regardless.  We spent the night last night at Jay’s mom’s house and delighted in the fellowship of “family”.  We were like a bag of human trail mix, under the roof in Grundy Center but it was delightful.  My sister was well received into my boyfriend’s extended family and that means the world to me.  It solidifies that Jay is my soulmate.  How else would a girl get so lucky as to have her own family be accepted by the warm and loving arms of her boyfriend’s?  Yes, fate is always at play… 

I am reflecting on myself and the emotional progress I would like to make in 2010.  I want to be more realistic and with that realism I want myself to relax and not sweat the small stuff so often.  I want to be real and live in the moment, every moment in Two-Thousand-Ten.  I want to be the gregarious me I was before the snow fell.   

We are reflecting on ourselves and being optimistic.  Yes, optimistic.