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Tag: goals

It’s all about the journey

Hm, blogging… let’s see if I remember how to do this.

First of all, thank all of you for your kind comments here and on Twitter about my dad. Things could have been so much worse than what they were. He’s not all better yet but he is recovering and for that I’m so thankful.

So much else has happened since I fell off the blogging wagon I don’t even know where to start so I’m just going to skip to current time. I may eventually try to recap things but my current adventure is way too exciting to bother with that right now.

Yesterday Joel, Phoebe and I began Epic Road Trip 2011. We’re in the process of completing number 27 on my 30 by 30 list. Driving across the country on Route 66.

Or getting our kicks on Route 66 as they say.

This is something I’ve always wanted to do. I’ve been on more road trips than I can count. They’ve always been to get somewhere in particular, as most road trips tend to be. Because they’re destination focused it doesn’t leave time for the random things in between.

Like the word’s largest rocking chair.

Every time I’ve taken a road trip I’ve always said that someday I want to take a trip where I get to stop at every strange and stupid thing. Just for the heck of it.

This is that trip.

And it’s even better than I hoped it would be.

It’s unbelievable how true flexibility makes things so much more enjoyable. Any time-table? Ours. Any rules or guidelines? Ours. If we decide something looks cool, we stop. If not, we don’t. If there’s a particularly dull stretch of road we may hop on the interstate for a few miles to save a few minutes that we can later use on something interesting.

We stopped at that ridiculously large rocking chair.

I kissed Mater.*

We’ve laughed and talked and joked and dreamed out loud and just had the most amazing time ever.

There’s no rush to be anywhere because here is exactly where we’re going.

I often have a hard time living in the moment because I’m so focused on my goals and where I want to be in the future. This trip is exactly what I need to remind me that there’s really nothing more important than right now because right now is my life.

It’s all about the journey.

*Oh hi Disney/Pixar, obviously I meant a Mater-like tow truck. Don’t sue me.

Made it

Three hundred and sixty five days. Three hundred and sixty five posts.

I freaking did it.

I’m kind of in shock actually. I stuck with something every single day for an entire year? I don’t think that’s ever happened before. Unless maybe it’s sleeping.

Or breathing.

But yeah, I can’t believe that I somehow managed to blog daily. It was often a struggle and now that I’ve done it I’m done. Nobody panic, I’m still going to keep blogging but it will be nice to be able to skip a day if I have nothing to say.

This year was definitely full of ups and downs. It wasn’t all bad but I have to say I’m glad 2010 is over. There were definitely more downs than ups.

For 2011 I’m very optimistic though. Last year I was unemployed and my days consisted of watching hulu endlessly and playing with Phoebe. Now I have a job that keeps me incredibly busy. It’s fun and rewarding. It can be frustrating but that’s part of what keeps it interesting.

So here’s to 2011. I’m interested to see how this year goes. I have a lot of big goals. I’m not one to make resolutions but I’m excited to keep working on my 30 by 30 list. I crossed off four things on my list this last year and I’m well on my way to crossing off several more.

Happy New Year everyone!

A different list

So, I’m not quite a year into my 30 by 30 list and already I’m making changes. Not a huge one though.

A long time ago a friend of mine linked to a list of 100 books on Facebook. They were all classics that (in my opinion) everyone should at least know about if not have read. It was fun seeing which ones I’d already read and I was a little ashamed at the amount that I have yet to read.

When I started my 30 by 30 list I knew I wanted to give myself a reading goal. I love to read but lately I’ve been too occupied with mindless television to pick up a book. I tend to like to do 5 things at once (Joel always gives me grief about the number of tabs I always have open. Apparently it slows the computer down. Whatever.) and I can have a show playing in the background while I chat on twitter, check my email and read blogs. If I read I have to give the book my full attention. Focusing on just one thing is actually something I should work on more often. I’m quite the scatterbrain lately.

So, when I googled top 100 books and top 100 movies the best ones I found were Time’s. I read through the entire movie list because I added all that I could into my Blockbuster queue. However, I just basically copy and pasted the book list. As things went along and I tried to start going through the list I realized that it wasn’t the list I had been thinking of. I tried searching for the other list but other than reading through a year or two of my friend’s Facebook wall (um, stalker much?) I couldn’t figure out a way to find it.

The thing is, I didn’t just want a list of novels. I’m sure the novels on Time’s list are fantastic but I only recognized a handful. My goal wasn’t to read a bunch of books that I’d never heard of, my goal was to catch up on all the books I thought I should have already read.

So, I finally found the list I was looking for thanks to my resident Google guru. I swear Joel is like the search engine whisperer. I can search for hours and find nothing and in 3 minutes he has what I was looking for and more. It definitely is never annoying.

I don’t consider this cheating since this was the list I intended to read in the first place. I’m still going to cross a 100 books of a list, it’s just a different list than I originally posted. I think this particular list is a lot more comprehensive. It includes non fiction as well which I very rarely read.

I already have read a few of the books. Others I’m almost positive I’ve read but I’m leaving them uncrossed because I want to be sure. I read quite a few abridged books growing up so I want to make sure I read the full versions.

I’m actually excited about this list, much more so than I was about the other one. I feel like I’ll be a much more well rounded person when I finish.

Stupid piece of paper

Today I was asked by no less than three people where I went to school. I don’t remember how it came up in any of these conversations. The only thing I know is the conversations continued like this:

Them – “So, where did you go to school?

Me – “Uh, well… um, I didn’t…

Then comes the nervous ramblings:

I graduated high school then I moved to Europe for awhile to be an au pair then moved back because, ya know, I fell in love ::giggle:: then I became a flight attendant and traveled all over the world and then uh… stupid economy… and now I’m here. A barista… slash waitress. And, yeah…

Them – ::blank stare:: “Oh. That’s. Nice.” ::backs away::

And they walk away probably wondering what the heck they asked exactly and I’m left feeling an inch tall.

There’s a sinking feeling in my chest whenever I think about it. About how I judged I feel. About how stupid and backwards and behind and lame and worthless they must think I am.

Then, not much later one of the askers made a comment about me not even having been to college. It was a negative comment. I can’t remember the wording exactly…

Because I was so shocked and had to fight the urge to burst into tears. Or run away and hide in a hole.

I’m not stupid.

I’m not.

And I could have that stupid piece of paper. I’m smart enough. I was a straight A student for goodness sake. I love school.

It’s the idea of taking on ten of thousands of dollars in debt that terrifies me. Especially because that dumb piece of paper is no guarantee that I’ll have any better job than I do right now. But people would think better of me. They wouldn’t think I’m stupid.

Because maybe some of them don’t. I might be paranoid.

But I know some of them do. The comments prove that to me.

The “Oh but you’re… smart.”You seem like such a smart girl.”A degree isn’t everything.”

And I smile and laugh and agree while wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

I want to scream going to college doesn’t make you better than me! I’m smart dammit!

::sigh::

The thing is, I love my life. I’m so happy with my life, I wouldn’t change anything. There’s no point in my life experience that I can imagine changing. I’ve had an amazing life. I’ve done more in 24 years than some people do in a lifetime. There’s so much more I have left to do and I expect it’s all going to be just as amazing.

So yeah, I didn’t go to college. I want to. I will.

But in the meantime… could you please just not ask?

Dreams in a box

In the bottom of this box are dreams disguised as dance shoes and clothes. The shoes are loving worn out. Not quite with holes, just worn spots and discoloration where my toes used to rub the floor the most. They’re still good, I could still wear them. But I don’t. I don’t dance anymore.

There’s nothing in the world that makes me feel more alive than dancing. It’s the way my soul speaks. When I hear a song it’s rare that I’m not dancing to it. Only now I usually only dance in my head.

When I was younger I was a dancer. I danced all styles of dance but I wanted nothing more than to dance on pointe shoes. I took classes several days a week. When I wasn’t in class I was practicing for class. As a little girl my favorite places were the aisles of the grocery store. They were the best for practing spotting as I twirled. My mom didn’t seem to mind. At least she never stopped me. My mom was wonderful like that.

My dance teachers were some of my favorite people in the world. They were beautiful and when they danced it was like magic. They didn’t just perform steps, they sparkled. Dances weren’t just a series of steps put together, they were their feelings set to music.

One day the head of the studio called me into her office. I don’t remember why. I do remember her asking me what my goals were. Among other things I mentioned how much I wanted to dance en pointe. I don’t remember anything else she said in that meeting except for one thing. “You don’t have the feet for it.” Everything else is a blur. I don’t remember if I cried then. I don’t think I did. I don’t think I said much else at all. All I remember are those words and feeling like I’d been punched in the stomach. I don’t have the feet for it. Just like that.

I didn’t stop dancing then. It was several years before I stopped altogether. But a little part of me died that day. That dream was snatched right from under my nose by cruel genetics. To this day I cry if I see ballerinas dancing en pointe. Why did that have to be my dream when I wasn’t made able to do it? Cruel.

There are so many reasons that my dance dreams lie in the bottom of a box. Money, time and age are all factors. But packing up things to be put into storage I’m reminded of that moment. The moment one of my dreams died. I’m also reminded that I don’t dance anymore.

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