Is That a New Blog, Or Are You Just Happy to See Me??

Somehow I have managed to not write a blog in 10 months.
I blame Donald Trump, obviously.

In reality, 2017 has simply flown by, and I'm really not sure how it's even possible that we've already gotten to October. It's been a big year with a lot of change - some expected, some unexpected, but definitely all for the better.

It has also been one in which I've experienced a lot of stress. And anyone who has followed my blog in the past several years, is well aware of how much of a stress relief writing is for me. So following a conversation with my mom last week about stress, chaos, and craziness, it occurred to me I should probably get my shit together.

So here I am.
30 Day October Blog Challenge.
Technically a combination of three different writing challenges, because I can't decide or commit to just one. And some of the prompts - like, what did you eat today - are stupid.

Starting six days late, so there's that.

Day One: List Ten Things That Make You Really Happy. 

1. An organized refrigerator. Sometimes it's about the small things. I love when my fridge is clean and organized, when labels are faced front, and when all my veggies are chopped and portioned into matching tupperware containers. I realize that this is insane, but I don't care. Happiness is a clean, OCD-type fridge. With that lunch meat drawer stocked full of Tillamook black pepper cheese sticks, obviously.

2. Drinking wine on Rachel's front porch. I think this goes without saying that I love my friends, and I love wine. I also love porches. A big, wrap-around front porch with a lawn to mow is literally my only motivation in life to purchase a home, and Rachel's porch in Battle Ground is pretty close to perfection for me.

3. Starting a new book. Any book. Especially one that is so good I do literally nothing for 3 days but lay under a blanket reading obsessively.

4. Getting voice mails from Blake. This week, he called and left me a message that said, "Hi Auntie. I want to take my Corona fridge to school for show and tell, but my mom won't let me because she says it is inappropriate." I have listened to it ten times, and I wish I could make it my ring tone.

5. The beach. Duh. This one goes without saying, but the beach is my happy place. Whether I am there for a day, a week, just an overnight, it's never enough time but also always the perfect amount of time. Whether it's winter, spring, summer, or fall, stormy or windy, sunny or blistering hot, it's perfection every time. I wish I could live there. And not work, just read books in my jammies drinking wine in front of a fireplace with all the windows open. Nothing better.

6. Being the little spoon. I. Love. To. Snuggle. Snuggling is my absolute favorite, and it's even better when the person snuggling you also loves to snuggle. And when they don't snore. I like to feel someone's hot breath in my ear, and I like it when my neck just fits in the space between someone's neck and shoulders. I especially love to snuggle when it's cold in the morning, and when Juno is laying at the foot of the bed on my feet, or between us in the pit of my knees. And for some reason, it's best when it's Sunday morning.

7. Grown up time with my friends. I am definitely in the minority now with no kids of my own. And don't get me wrong, I like to hang out with my friends and their little ones. But I'm also not a bull shitter, and I like even more to hang out with my friends while their little ones stay home with their dads. I like to drink wine and use cuss words. I like to drink champagne and talk about sex, or watch scary movies, or just have a conversation without being interrupted by small children asking questions or needing to pee. And again, I love your kids. I just don't like them as much as you do. So leave them home every once in a while so I can get you drunk like you deserve. After all, parenting is hard (or so I hear).

8. My birthday. Birthdays are a reason to celebrate, regardless of age. Just because you're not a little kid, doesn't mean you no longer have reason to enjoy yourself and eat cake! Bad shit happens in life, and the simple fact that you are alive another 365 days, honestly, is means to have a party. I will never let my birthday pass by without doing something outside of my daily routine. And the same goes for other people - YOUR birthday is equally as important as mine is, and I'll surely celebrate it. Even if you don't want to.

9. Receiving unexpected flowers. Duh. I'm such a girl on this one. Being thought of makes me happy. Being unexpectedly thought of a little extra makes me a little extra happy. And something about flowers being dropped off, makes me feel even more thought of.

10. Loud music. In the car especially, or while cleaning my apartment. Most any genre of music will satisfy the bug, but loud is definitely necessary.

Thank You, Times Ten

Day 3: Ten Things I am Thankful For in 2016

2016 has been a bit of a shit storm.
Read: Donald Trump was elected President of the United States, and everyone in the world with a vagina, realized how worried this should make us.

Anyway, when you have a year that is a total zero, it can be really challenging to remember all the things you have in your life to be grateful for. When this blog asked me for ten things I am thankful for in 2016, I was like...ten?!? What the fuck man...haven't you heard the news that Mike Pence is our new Vice President?! How can I possibly find ten things?!

It took less time to think of ten, however, than I initially thought it was going to. Because the reality is, that despite the terrible impending presidential inauguration, and despite all of the chaos, the shootings, the celebrity deaths that have happened in 2016, there is still no shortage of things I should be (and am) incredibly, deeply grateful for.

1. I am grateful that I had the opportunity to live with my best friend, and that we had such an awesome six months of best-friend-roomie time before she moved out (and I moved in another roommate who was awesome). Kattie and I finally bit the bullet and rented a two bedroom apartment together, despite fears that her cats would torment Juno. We spent six months eating Thai take out or Chinese delivery while working on property financials, watched Teen Mom in our jammies, pulled hilarious pranks on one another involving a large, wiggly purple dildo that suction cupped to literally any surface, and used the money we were saving by living together, to take several fun long weekend trips together.

For the record, Juno was the one doing 99% of the tormenting. Because she's a dick.

2. I am grateful for my Thanksgiving weekend trip to Pacific City, both the days I was there alone, and the days I was joined by Stacey & Blake. It was so great to have the alone time, great to have the peace and quiet to read and sleep in and lounge around in my jammies. But it was just as great to have the five-year-old tornado show up, to share my holiday movies with him, take him on a stormy beach walk, and drink wine with his mama. It was a perfect reminder that I can make or break my own holiday traditions.

3. I am grateful for Top Ramen. Because we all need to have comfort food sometimes.

4. I am grateful for my girlfriends, who have - for another year - reminded me what friendship looks like. It's hard to be a girl. It's hard to find girls to befriend who have no hidden agendas, or who aren't total bitches. Men don't really understand that - like, it is really hard to be friends with girls. So the fact that I have a tight-knit group of women who support, love, and encourage me...is something I am truly grateful for.

This year, last year, and surely next year.

5. I am grateful for my family - yes, all of them. The good, the bad, and the ugly of my family dynamic has shaped me. From a side of my family I don't have a strong relationship with currently, I still have plenty of wonderful childhood memories. From the side of my family I do have a relationship with, I have ongoing wonderful memories. I have enjoyed quality time with my grandma this year that I haven't had in the past, and I am grateful for all of it. I am fortunate to have parents who I can have fun with, talk to, and ask for help - not everyone has that, and the more people I talk to, the more rare it seems to have the mom and dad I have, who are really there to pick me up whenever I fall.

6. I am grateful for my strong voice. The voice that was finally able to express my concerns to my family, though they were not well received (unless a total freeze out means something is well received). The voice that has been able to stand up for right and wrong through a horribly exhausting presidential debate, and a voice that has had no fear of standing up for people who are being horribly mistreated. I am grateful that I can speak up.

7. I am grateful for Juno. She's my favorite. And yes, I am aware that she's a cat...that doesn't mean I like anyone else better than her. I don't. I like her better than any of you.

8. I am grateful for my job. Even though there are days I really hate it, I am glad to work in an industry where I am respected (usually). I appreciate that I am not one of the many people out there who wake up every day and dread going to work. I like my property, I love my team, and I enjoy the 40+ hours I spend each week with them.

9. I am grateful for silver tequila.

Obviously.

10. I am grateful for 2016, in general. Despite it being awful in many instances (MIKE. FUCKING. PENCE.), it has still been a year with many positives. I survived a property sale in one piece, got a promotion, earned two raises, stood up for myself in many, many situations, went on vacations, paid off all my bills, and enjoyed a lot of wine with a lot of good company. I had a roof over my head, I spent time with my family, and didn't spend thousands of dollars at the vet. I am happy and healthy, and so is my family. And most importantly, so is the cat.

Because again, I do like her better than any of you.

The Beach is Best for the Soul

Weekends away from home are so vital to my sanity. Even more, weekends on the Oregon Coast are even more essential. Something about being in a small beach town, where the weather is either amazingly beautiful or amazingly awful, where I can relax or explore, be lazy or adventurous. The beach is just my favorite place. 

I drove to Pacific City this Friday and before I even hit the freeway, I was thrilled by the sunshine and warm weather. It has been years since I drove all the way to the coast with the windows down, a warm breeze blustering outside. It's funny the way that something as simple as rolling down the window of my truck can thrill me, change my mood for the better. 

My plan for the weekend was to do a lot of reading (I brought three new books), a lot of lounging on the porch with a good white wine (I took three bottles), and some scenic driving between a few beach walks. I pulled into town and hit my favorite local store before heading right to the beach for a quick barefoot walk in the warm sand. I don't even remember the last time it was warm enough on the coast to leave shoes and a sweatshirt in the car, and walk the coastline in my tee shirt. 

After my walk and shop, I headed to my aunt's beach house, which in itself is bursting at the seams with my favorite memories of my teen and young adult years. Intending to curl up with a blanket and a chilled glass of wine on the porch, I instead found myself texting my cousin to please bring her son and join me - apparently quiet and well-rested was not my actual plan for the weekend. I did snuggle up on the couch with a new book, where I devoured chapters of my new book while I waited for them to make the drive after dinner. 

I've written before about the fact that my cousin Stacey is my best friend, and there is something about spending a beach weekend together that reminds me so much of our beach trips together in high school and college. And I love that we get to include her rugrat in our adventures. Stace and I together have climbed the dune at Cape Kiwanda about a thousand times, and hearing Blake encourage himself up the hill in the sunshine all afternoon, just makes me happy. When we climbed to the top, just as Stace and I have done a million times, he took in the view, wandered around, excitedly pointed things out. 

Where Blake differed from Stace and I was on the descent. Blake was not on board with running and jumping down the dune, despite us telling him that we used to somersault down the whole hill.

The rest of the weekend was just as fun. Pizza at Doryland, an Easter egg hunt in the beach house, some reading, a warm fire for the cat to curl up in front of, and a hunt for little bunnies in the courtyard of the RV park near the cape. While my intention was a quiet weekend by myself, Stace and Blake were welcome changes to the plan. 

I always feel refreshed after a long weekend (or even a short one) at the beach, but especially in Pacific City. I love it there. I love the way every nook and cranny of the cabin reminds me of my grandparents, the way everything in town takes me back to a walk with my grandma, a drive with my grandpa, or a weekend of fun with my cousins. The drive there, music turned up loud, heat blowing on my flip-flopped feet, is therapeutic, like leaving my troubles behind. The drive home, while I dread that back-to-reality feeling as I pull back into Hillsboro, is equally good for my soul. 

This weekend was nothing short of excellent. Quiet, loud, peaceful, adventurous, fun, exhausting...fantastic. I love sharing my favorite part of being a kid, with the kids in my life now. I love spending the time with my family, love the solo drive, love watching my cat explore the beach house and spend hours baking her belly in front of the fireplace. Everything about Pacific City relaxes and inspires me, and I am grateful for every moment spent there. 

I've Never Been the Most Important

Every time you start a new relationship, you go through a period of the first time something happens for you. Your first official date, the first time you kiss, the first time they say they love you, the first time you meet their friends or they meet your family. There is no shortage of firsts in a new relationship, and even though you may have had a first kiss with dozens of people, the first kiss with this someone is just as exciting. Because it's new, and it's something you've never experienced with anybody else.

I believe this is what is referred to, as "the honeymoon phase." That super-obnoxious-to-everyone-who-is-not-you stage where you are so gushy-eyed you can barely see straight, and where the most-perfect-for-you person on the planet can simply do no wrong? Yea, that...the honeymoon phase. That first little bit of time with someone new, where all of the newness is exciting and makes you forget you ever dated anyone else. Where the firsts feel like the absolute greatest thing that has ever, could ever, or will ever happen to you. #ohmygodhekissedme!!

I have had plenty of firsts with plenty of people. Some great, others not so great. I've had first kisses, first dates, first times having sex; there have been first times being yelled at, first times being hit, and first times being made to feel shitty about myself. there have been first fights, first make ups and breakups. And every first time is different. That's the thing about a new experience with a new partner, is that it is never identical to the same experience with someone from your past. I had a new first this weekend: for the first time, I went out on a date with my boyfriend, and he danced with me. Not because I begged and pleaded, not because I pouted, and not begrudgingly in the slightest. For the first time, I experienced what it was like to be on a date with someone who made me feel like the most important person in the room.

Side note: A man who dances is sexy as fuck. I don't know who ever told all you boys out there that girls prefer to dance alone while you get drunk bellied up to the bar, but they fully lied to you. There is nothing that guarantees you a night of hot sweaty loving than shaking it with her on a dance floor. Even if you look stupid. Even if you hate it. Even if you would rather die. Dance with her. (Also, dancing does not mean shoving your dick in her back. That grinding-her-gears move is not sexy.)

It's a gratifying feeling, that of feeling like the most important person in the room. It's a feeling that's not easily explained, but it's one that's wildly present in my relationship currently. It's the experience of being with someone who leans in to kiss you even when you're out with a group of friends, or who reaches for your hand when you're walking through a crowded room. These are such small gestures that it may seem insignificant, but when it's something you are experiencing for the first time, it doesn't feel small; it feels huge.

My efforts to explain this concept to my fella were met with shrugged shoulders and a well, you are the most important. Like, duh, why would I have ever felt otherwise? When you're the type of person who values your partner, who always sees them in that light, who is always aware of their presence near you in a crowd, these gestures apparently come as second nature, not to be given another thought. But when it's not the treatment you're used to receiving, it warrants all of the second glances, all of the pleasant surprises.

At the risk of sounding incredibly arrogant, I have always been the thoughtful one in my relationships. I'm the one who remembers important dates, who leaves love notes, who puts a lot of thought into gifts. I have always planned dates or birthdays or anniversaries. And more importantly, I've been the one who says the right things on a bad day or who finds the perfect way to cheer someone up. But as I was laying in bed last night, after the longest work week of my life, falling asleep at 7:30, I felt - for the first time - what it was like when someone else found the perfect way to take care of me back. By letting me fall asleep at a completely unreasonable hour, by rubbing my back while I fell asleep at a completely unreasonable hour, and by falling asleep next to me...at a much more reasonable hour.

Obviously not every first is as great as the first time you realize how important you are to someone else, but the fact is, every first has something to offer. Embrace them. Relish in them. Enjoy the way they make you feel. As they say, there's a first time for everything (remind me again who they are??)