Welcoming 2014 with open arms and a few goals

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Happy New Year from Us to You.

Happy New Year from Us to You.

Le sigh…. I spent a good 90 minutes typing up a blog post two days ago with the intention of having time to edit it and post it fresh for the new year…. Turns out my computer hates me and randomly closed the window without saving it…. Grumble grumble piece of turd computer.

The gist of it was this: I usually kinda sorta hate the idea of New Years Resolutions, and yet seem to always make them anyway. Sometimes they stick, sometimes they don’t, but mostly that is ok, because sometimes you just need a moment to re-focus your energy, even if it is only for the first month and a half of the year. This year, I have every intention of sticking with my resolutions, but if for some reason, life happens, and things get in the way, I’m not going to let myself feel bad about it.

Basically I’ve been feeling a little stagnant over the past few months… my motivation seems to be shot, and I’ve been letting myself just sort of glide by… no real projects, no real goals… which is fine for a brief  time, but I’m finally getting restless and feeling like I’m ready to head into 2014 with a super charged sense of motivation. In short, I’m not 100% fulfilled by my job, but on the bright side I am 110% passionate about where I work, so even though my hours have been cut back, and my day to day isn’t as meaningful as it could be, I’m perfectly content to stay where I am, at a place that I love, and am planning on filling the extra hours of my day with more meaningful projects. If I’m not working full time there is no reason why my free time shouldn’t be filled with things that make me tick…. Of course, I’ve crossed paths with that feeling of utter panic when people start to ask you where you see yourself in five years.  If you say you don’t know, it makes you sound totally unmotivated, but then you start to think about where you are and what you are doing and realize that this isn’t going to cut it five years from now, and you are trapped somewhere in between knowing you want more, but not having a clue about what to do about it, and instead of actually addressing these angst producing issues, you just repress everything, and ignore your future , and try to make the stress go away by curling up in a corner and chewing on your hair…. (side note: I don’t actually chew on my hair… but I think the image conjures up the correct amount of anxiety.)   Anyway… I’m not ready to quit my job and do something drastic in the pursuit of passion… I’m much to practical, and my credit card bill is too high. But I am indeed ready to buckle down, find my motivation and utilize my free time to it’s fullest potential. I’m vowing that 2014 will be the year that I spend trying to figure out exactly what my passion is, and hopefully a few other fun things along the way. For example, I’m going to start teaching barre classes this year. I don’t exactly know when, or where for that matter (I’ve been promised there is a studio on its way!) I’ve never really thought that being a fitness instructor was in my future/ even something that I was passionate about, but as it turns out, I really really love taking barre classes, and I think that teaching them will actually be a lot of fun… here is to 2014 and trying new things…

As far as resolutions go, I think its best to put them out there in the open. I know some people write them down, stick them in a safe place, and then return to them a year later, half forgetting what was written down… I’m all for tradition, but for me, Resolutions are a little bit about intention, and a lot about accountability. Putting something out into the universe is swell, but putting something out into the universe and then asking people to keep you on track is even better.

 2014 “projects”/ “Resolutions”/ “goals”/ whatever you want to call them.

—     Putting myself out there.  This is something I majorly need to work on. The fact of the matter is that I’m an introvert. Classic IMFJ personality here, and though I really like being social, I’m not always the best at meeting new people.  There was an article this year in the Huffington Post that was all about introverts, and as I was reading it all I could think was “I need to keep a copy of this to give to future employers and suitors” because I often worry that my introverted personality is misunderstood… I tend to just sit on the sidelines and watch people interact, and to be perfectly honest, I find it so informative. I know some people probably think that I’m totally uninterested, and socially awkward (which sometimes I might be) but mostly, I’m observing relationships, watching interactions, forming opinions etc. etc… also, I work in a fast paced, customer service driven job, and so most of my work day is spend being “on”. At the end of the day all I want is to be home, glass of wine in hand re-charging…. I think this is one of the reasons why the idea of dating is so daunting. I like meeting new people, I really do… but really, I’d much rather just skip all the small talk and be in a comfortable relationship where we can curl up in our sweats and watch Mad Men and eat take out. I realize this is kind of putting the cart before the horse, and also this is not how the world works.  I know that I have to suck it up, put on my happy face, and get to know new people. I need to actually work at it, and get out of my comfort zone. I need to put myself out there in 2014. Wish me luck (I’m totally going speed dating.)

—     Blogging once a week. This is going to be tough, I know it already. I can feel the excuses starting to creep up (was this one of my resolutions last year? It feels familiar, but I’m too scared/ lazy to look up posts from last year… perhaps I failed…)  But, the bottom line is that I have the time, I just have to actually make the time… and ask any writer ever, and they pretty much all say that if you are going to write, you need to be writing often and much, even if it is terrible. Sometimes you just have to keep writing, and keep writing, and keep writing through the bad stuff until a little tiny nugget of something that doesn’t suck comes out, and then you hold onto that, and nurture it, and tweak it, and maybe, just maybe it turns into an idea, a train of thought, a glimmering of something… so really, the least I can do is make myself sit down, and write/ put something out there once a week. I don’t have a writing group, so you all get to be my peers. It might be jumbled some days, and others it might just be pictures of my bulldog… but I’m going to try, and see what comes of it.

—      Writing more letters/ keeping an address book. I absolutely suck at keeping track of addresses. Every time I send out a holiday card, or need to send someone a birthday card or invitation, I have to send out massive text messages, or chain emails, begging and pleading for people to send me their addresses.  I can practically feel the eye rolls that are accompanied by the “I STILL live at…”  Don’t get me wrong, I could drive to most of these houses blindfolded, but when it comes to addressing an envelope… I’m half tempted to just write things like “Abe & Jason, the apartment above the Starbucks on 23rd & Overton, the one with the mint on the balcony.” (I think it would totally get there…)  Anyway, I actually purchased an address book (ok its just a notebook that I’m going to keep addresses in, because all the address books at my local book store were sort of dull) and I have collected everyone from my Christmas card list, and am vowing here and now to keep track of addresses, and also send more notes in the mail.

The Art Deco notebook on top is my new address book.

The Art Deco notebook on top is my new address book.

—     Eat a salad every day. I am pretty good at this normally… but also I work at a restaurant where sometimes all I want to eat is gluten free cheese pizza with duck confit and peach chutney.  And gluten free pizza with duck confit and peach chutney almost always sounds better than a salad…. But I’m pretty good with tangible goals… and I’m also pretty excited to see how many different salad combinations I can come up with. I of course reserve the right to not eat salads on days that I’m doing a juice cleanse (and I also reserve the right to maybe sometimes eat salads on the days that I’m doing a juice cleanse).

—     Speaking of Juice… Use my juicer so many times! I actually already use it quite a bit, but I want to make sure I use it enough to justify the investment. Viva la juice. The next cleanse starts on January 6th. Be on the lookout for lots and lots of juice photos.

Juicing my way into 2014

Juicing my way into 2014

—     Paint my fingernails more often (ok wait… I know this was actually a resolution from last year, spoken or not… (I did ok, but I could have done better) Mostly, I’m a jeans and tee shirts kind of gal, but there is just something about having my nails painted that makes me feel like I absolutely have my life together and am a fancy lady. It’s complete bullshit, but sometimes you just need that little extra boost of fancy! Of course with my job, one hour in the dish pit, and any manicure will be totally ruined, but a girl can still attempt to be polished every now and then!

—     See a Nutria in real life: Remember in 2009 when there was that story on Wait Wait Don’t Tell me about a woman suing Walmart because she was attacked by a Nutria? (if you don’t, you should listen to it now… it was clearly quite memorable. Its on May 16th, 2009 in the “Bluff the Listener” section. Also,  you should just Google Norman the Nutria, you know, for fun.) Ever since then, I’ve had a mild fascination with them… and have yet to see one in real life! My parents see them all the time on their morning walks…(do you know how many early morning texts I’ve gotten with pictures of baby Nutria? At least two…) I was discussing this very thing with my friend Janet the other day, and she decided that I should make 2014 the year I see a Nutria. The good news is that I know where to find some real life Nutria in their wild habitat, so if I don’t happen to stumble across one on my morning run, or while shopping for toilet paper at some big box store, I will know where to go looking for them next December when my deadline is approaching, and I’m starting to think of new resolutions.

—     No beer in January:  Full disclosure, I’ve gained a little weight over the past month. It doesn’t bother me, but it also doesn’t delight me. And I like beer, but I don’t LOVE beer, and I think that If I’m going to be pumping my body full of empty calories, I would rather pump it full of wine or hot chocolate, or gumdrops. So I’m cutting out beer for a bit, and seeing what happens. I blame the 24 year old boys that I work with who drink beer after beer every night, and who subconsciously peer pressure me into drinking with them… like I said, beer is ok, but its not something that I ever really crave, so this month I’m going to do without it.

I’m also going to work on keeping my house clean and organized, spending more time reading, and work on seeing the glass as half full.   (ARE YOU F’ING KIDDING ME….. I just found the blog post I thought was lost forever… it essentially says all the same things I say here… maybe I will just post them both and you can judge for yourself.)  Of course there are other things I plan on doing this year… but as we head into 2014, I think its good to start with a small list (and I think these are all totally attainable and maintainable things) and go from there. Wishing all of you a marvelous year, and the best of luck with your intentions, goals, resolutions etc.

At least I will be a good tipper.

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Sitting here tonight I realized today was my last full day off before Christmas. It’s not a huge deal, all my holiday shopping is completed, everything is in the mail, the laundry is folded all the major priorities are taken care of… But I’m sitting here, feeling a little restless, so rather than getting sucked into Mad Men on Netflix, I’m here, blogging.  I can’t help the cliché, but this time of year I always start to reflect. What did I do this year? What did I learn? How did I grow? How am I different?

So there is this woman who comes into work all the time who drives me absolutely insane. I have a little bit of guilt about this actually for multiple reasons, and every time I contemplate how irritated she makes me, I feel like the biggest bitch in the universe… because really, she is lonely. I know this, I know this is why she comes in every day, why she talks everyone’s ear off about her work projects, how the lasagna in our deli case is just too rich for her, how she has tried to make replicate our quinoa salad a million times, how she used to sleep with her bike next to her bed so she could sleep with her hand clutched around it, about how impressive the symposium she just hosted was. Once she asked me what shade of lipstick I was wearing, and then literally came in a few hours later wearing the exact same shade and then started to refer to is as “our lipstick” And it shouldn’t bother me. I should be a bigger person. I should just embrace the fact that it makes her day when she comes in, when one of us asks about her day. And most of the time I do, but there are some moments when I see her walk through the door, and the other employees and I glance at each other, and we silently and quickly figure out who has has the most coffee, who is the least irritable, and who will be the one to interact with her that that particular moment. But really, the icing on the cake is in the ten months I’ve been working there and in her almost daily visits she has never tipped once. Not once. Ok, its bitchy of me… but you go to a place, every day, sometimes multiple times a day, you get all the free refills, you make sure you include us personally in your life, that we know every detail, that you share every story, and we smile and we listen (ok, some of us go home and write about it on our blogs) but for the love… throw in your change every now and then.

I get the being lonely part… mostly.  I’m a total introvert, so I don’t always understand the whole forcing of small talk thing… I love interacting with people, but only to a certain point. Ask anyone who knows me, and they will tell you, I’m quiet, guarded even, and sure, I’ve got a blog, and I’m rambling on about my personal life, but that is not something that I tend to do face to face. I would never stroll into my neighborhood coffee shop and unload on the barista about how rough of a day I was having. I might think it, I might sit quietly in the corner sipping my Americano, and would probably divulge a little information, a brief insight to a passerby who might ask how I was doing… but I would never come in with a sense of entitlement and just completely unload… but give me twenty years and we’ll see where I am… I know one of the reasons why I’m so annoyed with her is because deep down, I have this fear that someday that is going to be me.

About six months ago,  I jokingly told my brother that his first born was going to end up taking care of me. Naturally in my mind, its more like the situation from Little Women… without me being old and kinda crazy. I will be the fun aunt, and we will run off to Europe, and we will read, and eat and drink and live, and I will not be the annoying woman with the tendency to undert-tip and over-share. I will be the mysterious American woman who keeps to her self, I will have a certain je nais se quoi about me. Done and done. Contingency plan, check.  But one thing I’ve realized is that over this past year, my fear of being alone has started to dwindle…

Looking back on this year, its been a little rough in patches. I lost one job, I lost someone close to me, I’ve struggled trying to find what I’m passionate about, I’ve lost motivation, but one insight that I’ve gained is that heart gripping fear of spending my life alone is not quite as scary as it used to be.

In 2013 I went on approximately 1 date. It was actually a pretty decent date, as far as first dates go, but it was with a person who was just so incredibly wrong for me. He was 24, and here is the thing about 24 year old men… rather, 24 year old boys. The age difference is too much. I say this to my friends in relationships, and they all vehemently insist that I’m full of it (its because they aren’t out there dating 24 year olds, so they will never really understand.)  I just finished reading Wild a few days ago, and I felt so vindicated, because there is a part of the book where Cheryl Strayed is talking about being a 27 year old women and how at that age , age really does matter. “It was an absurd crush, I knew. He was four years younger than me, and we were at an age when those nearly four years mattered, the gap between what he had done and what I had done was large enough that I was more like a big sister than I was someone who should be thinking about being alone with him in his tent—so I didn’t think about it” Yes, vindication. Thank you Cheryl for getting it, and for writing about it in your best selling book.

Sure, I feel a little hypocritical talking about age being an issue, since I am in fact 15 years younger than my ex boyfriend. Here I am saying that 4 years younger than me is too young, and yet sitting there at the table across from the one date of 2013, I was looking at where I had been, and not where I was heading… I suppose then I have to let go of all resentment being told on one occasion or another that I was too young for someone  (though I still maintain that I am an old soul, and will probably end up with a man who is older than me…  its just a gut feeling… if you have been on a date, or even in the same room with a 24 year old man/boy lately you will understand where I’m coming from.) The guy really was very sweet, and he actually came into work the other day with a very young looking hipster girl on his arm… because at the end of the day if it isn’t right it isn’t right. Which is the main thing I’m taking about of 2013. Though I certainly don’t have a full repertoire of dating experience from this year, I have gained a lot of insight from watching other people in relationships. And I won’t pretend to be an expert, and I certainly won’t be the one to judge, because I know that all relationships are hard at times, and require a lot of work , commitment and compromise. But this year as I have embraced my choice of not settling, of not choosing to be with the wrong person, I’ve become acutely aware of all the people around me who have settled in relationships, who have jumped in an compromised maybe too much, and my heart goes out to those people. I’m not sure I’m able to convey this properly, because again, I’m not coming from a place of judgment, and really as an outsider I know I don’t always see the whole picture, or know the full context of situations. Love is a complex thing, and I admire the people who are stumbling through it on a daily basis.  For me being single isn’t necessarily a choice, but I do feel empowered knowing that by being alone I am choosing to not be with a person who isn’t right for me. (is that a double negative? It doesn’t sound quite right, but its late…)

But going back to my reflection, I’m still figuring out how this year has shaped me, and what sort of path that will lead me on in 2014. But mostly I have realized that I’m no longer afraid of being lonely. I still have a lot of fears (hello I practically have a nervous breakdown every time I get a paycheck, and then look at my credit card bill) I still have a lot of uncertainty… and there are nights when the loneliness still haunts me. When it’s actually a physical ache in my person… but it is also somehow remarkably ok. Over the past year I have been able to branch out and cultivate some new friendships that I’m forever grateful for.  Hello, I actually sent out all of the holiday cards that I ordered, a first for me.  And it might not be much, but its nice to know that even if I spend the rest of my life deciding not to settle, I’m still going to have some of these amazing people to go through life with. These amazing people who embrace my neurosis (or at least tolerate them quite well) call my bulldog nephew. And at the end of the day, at the end of this year, I can at least take a little comfort knowing that if I do end up becoming an entitled single women who comes into coffee shops and lipstick stalks the employees, at least I will be a really good tipper.

Gardening instincts, SAD, and finding my motivation.

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These last few days have been beautiful in Oregon. I typically don’t miss the Montana weather (its currently blizzarding and 2 degrees in my home town. No joke. There is a live webcam…) But these last two days the sun has been shining, the sky is blue, and I keep having a twinge of nostalgia for the clear crisp winter days… the blizzards not so much. I crave snow about once a year… one weekend is the perfect amount. Preferably around Christmas, anything over that just seems excessive.

 So yeah, I don’t miss the snow, but I would definitely take a few more crisp sunny days. Don’t get me wrong. I adore the dreariness of Oregon winters. I crave it a little bit, actually. The cozy foggy mornings that just beg you to snuggle in with a good book and a cup of tea. The bright green grass contrasting the dark charcoal sky. The drizzling rain… It soothes my soul, which is probably why I moved to Oregon in the first place. But every now and again, a little bit of Seasonal Affective Disorder sneaks its way in, and I’m left feeling a little blasé this time of year.  Thankfully, I have a happy lamp, which typically does the trick, even though it is a little ridiculous.

When my parents first made the move to Oregon the weather transition was a little rough on them. My mom’s doctor suggested a light supplement, and as it turns out they were selling them at Costco. Score. After about two weeks though, my dad had deemed the Happy Lamp the “unhappy lamp” because its actually a bit abrasive. After a bit of complaining, the light made its way over to my place, and mostly I used it for my house plants, but every so often I pull it out for personal use. I usually just place it in the bathroom, getting my extra dose of light as I get ready for the day, which is a win-win, as it turns out my bathroom doesn’t have the best lighting.  

 Anyway, the last few weeks I’ve been feeling rather unmotivated. I’m not depressed per say, I’m exercising, eating well, getting myself out there, and even meditating… but all that aside, I just haven’t been terribly motivated to work on the things that make me, me. I haven’t been blogging, I haven’t really been working on anything creative, my house is a bit of a disaster, I haven’t been cooking… I’ve kind of just been coasting aimlessly, not feeling passionate about anything.  And overall, I think that is allowed, and I haven’t even been overly concerned about it… until Today I realized how elated I was that the sun was shining. Hello productiveness! Hello  goals. Hello achievements (mental note: add vitamin D to my vitamin regimen stat. This sun can’t last forever) 

Thankfully, this motivation came on my day off (isn’t it the worst when you get super motivated, and you realize that if you actually stop to clean the bathroom you will be 20 minutes late to work? This happens to me often).  So I took the motivation, I took the sense of purpose, I took the energy from the sun, and put on some garden gloves. I’ve pretty much been avoiding putting my garden to bed for the winter like the plague.  I do this every year, and then make it so much harder for myself each spring… Mostly I got a little too excited about my garden this year, and then didn’t have a ton of time to do anything with it, so the idea of cleaning it out was a little daunting. I started the project a few weeks ago, but still had some beds that needed clearing.  Today was the perfect day…. And then I kept going. I clean out the tomato beds, I pruned the raspberries, I did a little weeding, trimmed back the mint, and even swept my patio. I would have gone so far as to pick up dog poop, only my super duper pooper scooper broke into a million pieces after 1 scoop. Tragedy. I’ll deal with that later.

 BUT one thing I did observe in this midst of this yard project was how happy it made me. Working in my garden, and growing my own food brings me epic amounts of joy, and even though this is the not fun part of gardening, I still found myself getting excited by the pruning. Mostly I have no idea what I’m doing… last year was a huge pruning experiment, and it seemed to mostly work, and so I decided to forge ahead with false confidence… only once I got going I realized that it was all pretty instinctual. I imagine this is sort of how first time parents feel. “I have no idea what I’m doing, but this feels like the right thing.” Granted, I am not a parent, and don’t have plans to become a parent, but it seems like its kind of the same thing.  There I was, in the raspberry patch, and I could just look at the branches and say “this one won’t produce next year, it’s a goner!” and I really did have every confidence that I was right (talk to me next June, and lets see if I have any raspberries). Once I cut about five branches, I started to notice that each of the branches I was eliminating was tied to the trellis with a green twist tie. I haven’t had time to confer with my father (who tamed the raspberries this spring) but it almost felt like a road map. “These are the ones that are producing now, and won’t do anything next year”  at least that is what I kept telling myself. It might just be a grand coincidence that every branch that was tied up was one I was getting rid of…. I’ll have to confer with Mike.

Who knows how long it will last, and what the rest of the winter will bring, but two days of sunshine, and I’m feeling more like myself. I’m feeling like I’m ready to tackle more projects, and ready to get more back into the things that make me feel like me.  We will see how long it lasts… Hopefully a while!

 

Le Sigh

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Generally speaking, I’m not really into disclaimers.  As a writer it has always been my biggest pet peeve in workshops or critique groups when people start out with “well its just a rough draft” or “ Its still a work in progress” already offering some excuse as to why you might read it the way you do. I tend just to throw things out there and hope for the best.   My last blog post has ended up causing a bit of an up roaring in my personal life, and I’m trying my best not to over-think it, but I would like to clarify a few things, and then forever and always I’m going back to writing about things like baby goats, my garden, amazing food and wine, and the everyday awkwardness that is my life.

Le Sigh.

My blog is generally about my personal life. It’s a way for me to stay connected with the people that I know, some of whom I’ve met, some of whom I haven’t.  Occasionally it is an observation of things or people or situations, but I tend to write about what I know, what is in my head, and leave it at that.  Writing helps me process a lot of things, and sometimes that comes out in a bit of a mess, but it has never been my intention to purposely slander/ throw someone under the bus/ or be catty/ manipulative or judgmental.  I’m not really an “air everyone’s dirty laundry” kind of girl. That being said,  If you don’t like what I say on my blog, you don’t have to read it. Period. If you don’t want to know what I’m thinking and feeling, what my opinion or point of view is… you are in the wrong place. I’m not going to apologize for my writing, nor am I going to sugar coat or tiptoe around things because I’m worried about what other people might think. What I write about is deeply personal to me, and if you choose to be a part of that and get some insights into my life, then that is great. I appreciate that. If you don’t… well then no one is forcing you to read it. I’m sure there are a lot of other ways you could be spending your time, and I’m not going to be offended. I also welcome differing ideas and opinions.. if you want to start a dialog with me, I’m absolutely all about it.

For the record: The purpose of my last post was not to slander my ex boyfriend, nor was it expose his personal life, or to vindicate myself. Even now looking at it, I view it as a “these are some things I’m going through, this is how I’m dealing with them, these are ways in which I’m trying to better my life, an make better choices.”  I wasn’t trying to name names or point fingers, or go all woe is me… It wasn’t supposed to be a “hey world my ex boyfriend is a giant ass” and that wasn’t in my head when I wrote it. Here is what it was… a way for my to officially be able to move on.  I think that he is an amazing parent, and an immensely talented person, and at the end of the day I really truly wish him the best.  But right now, what is best for me, is to not have him in my life.  At All.  And its really hard for me, and it makes me sad… but it is what is best for both of us. End of Story…. Mostly.

He is rather upset with me, and has repeatedly asked me to take down the post, asked me to re-write it, said some choice things etc. .  ( Maybe I am crazy, but if you don’t want me to be in your life in any way shape or form, and have asked that I remove you from all social media, maybe pay me the same courtesy and don’t read my blog? That sounds reasonable, right? If you feel compelled to read it fine, but maybe don’t go so far as to threaten to sue me for for slandering you… )  Re-writing my blog, elaborating on the situation, or making amendments is not something that I feel like I need to do, but I do welcome any comments or edits that he would like to make to fill in a bigger picture, and I’ve told him this repeatedly. He has assured me that he doesn’t need to because all of our mutual acquaintances know his side of the story, and they all know I’m the fucked up one… and no one would ever read this garbage anyway… (well he did, clearly… and it apparently struck a nerve… again, not my intent)  To the handful of you who actually know us both, and do actually read this… Thanks for  being in both of or lives…  I really do  wish him nothing but good things… This was not an attempt to show the world another side of him, this was not an attempt to get his friends and colleagues to see my point of view and turn against him, this was not me drawing a line in the sand asking people to choose sides. I assumed that our mutual acquaintances and colleagues would stay mutual acquaintances and colleagues, and would not be sucked into the drama… perhaps that was naïve, as I’ve been informed that everyone in the Portland food scene knows that I crazy manipulative bitch I am, and everyone that I respect and admire professionally and personally knows the “truth about me” and is under the impression that I need to seek professional help, or am just some deranged   manipulative woman.   And to that I say, Bummer.  I am trying to branch out and make a name for myself, and over the past year, I have met a lot of interesting and amazing people that I would like to keep in my life… and because I’ve had a falling out with this person, those relationships might not be possible. But at the end of the day, I can’t control how people view me, and what they choose to believe about me… and I’m remarkably OK with that.  I’m not going to let myself get caught up in insecurities, misunderstanding, and skewed views… I know what I wrote, I know how I meant it, I know where my heart was and  If people want to judge me without really knowing me, let them. I give everyone the benefit of the doubt, it is my fatal flaw… but sometimes I find it really empowering to hold onto the optimistic view of people. I want to believe the best in everyone, I want to see the best side of people… and sometimes that bites me in the ass… and by all means I don’t expect everyone to afford me the same grace. I stand by what I wrote, I don’t feel like I need to apologize for my writing and for my point of view… and I cannot fault my ex for his point of view, he is entitled to it… we clearly see the situation very differently…and at the end of the day, I have no control over how people are going to view me. Sure, I could publish all the text messages back and forth between us, I could sit here make comments about his past relationships and issues as I see them, but I’m not. That isn’t my place, nor was it ever the intention of my last post. Truth be told, I wrote it because I needed some accountability.  I needed some closure.

This is not the first end all, get out of my life fight that my ex and I have had… and yet in the past we have somehow ended up back in each other’s lives, but it will be the last. For the record, I think he is immensely talented, and a great dad, and he is so charismatic, and easy to be around… and I keep getting sucked back in. And I wanted to get sucked back in… I wanted to be in his life, and I thought that I could do it. I thought we could just be friends, and I could be ok with it… but that wasn’t being fair to myself, or honest… yes, he was always clear that what we had was just a friendship, but at the end of the day he was still the man I fell in love with, and I didn’t want to not have him in my life, but I also never really let go of the idea in the back of my mind of “well maybe some day the timing will be right.”  It will never be right, I know that with 110% certainty, but when you give that part of your heart to someone, its not always easy to take back.   And yes, I was deeply hurt by some of the things he said, by the way he treated me, how he spoke to me, and how he chose to interpret my actions… not hurt enough to write a vindictive blog post, but hurt enough to share with the people that I care about what was happening in my life.

So thanks in advance to those of you who are keeping me accountable, to those of you who know me well enough to know my intentions (or at least give me the benefit of the doubt) and a special thanks to the people in my life who love and tolerate me all of the time.  You are good people and I like you a lot.

Mini-life detox.

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Here is the thing about blogging: Its so much easier to write things in your head. I might be slightly biased, but I write some amazing mental drafts of things. I then finally find a few hours to sit down at my computer, and what comes out on the screen is usually a little bit more like verbal diarrhea. Sometimes I edit it, sometimes I delete it, but mostly I just post it, hope for the best, and move on to the next thing.  In case you haven’t noticed, I’m wordy. I go where my mind takes me, and I realize for other’s it might not be the easiest to follow… But at the end of the day this is an exercise. It is getting thoughts into words, and it is exposing my jugular by putting them out there for other people to read. You might relate, you might not, you might think its funny, or terrible, you might only read it because you feel slightly obligated, or like my parents, you are looking for some more insights into my life. (love you guys). Whatever your reasons, thanks for reading.

 

I had a doozy of a weekend. The kind that makes you take a step back and decide I need a mini-life detox.  Which is exactly what I’ve done this week.

Backstory: Saturday night I had a fight with my ex-boyfriend. Mostly I was calmly saying “can we just talk about this like rational human beings?” as he yelled obscenity’s over the phone about how crazy and unstable I was, that I was too immature and that I needed to seek professional help for all of my issues etc.  (all I’m going to say about that, is that I was not the one yelling at my ex over the phone at 2AM… but I’m the immature unstable one, right?)  The fight was probably a good thing, it really helped me process some things, and see the situation a little more clearly, and overall I walked away feeling like “well, I sure dodged a bullet”. But it also left me feeling really sad.  I know that everyone has baggage and issues, and life is never simple, but arguing with him made my heart hurt, just seeing the reality that he lives in thinking that everyone and everything is against him. I know we all have defensive mechanisms, it’s a form of self preservation, but its really hard knowing that he decided a very long time ago that his life was too messy for anyone else to handle (which isn’t true, but he thinks its true) and so he just pushes people past their breaking point each and every time they get close.  It’s a self fulfilling circle… It’s hard to see yourself through someone else’s eyes, especially when you know that your heart and your intentions are come from this genuine and true place, and that someone else has twisted them into something completely malicious and negative.  Knowing that there is this version of you out there somewhere, even if it only exists in someone else’s mind is a little unsettling.  But overall, I’m just trying to let that go. As I writer this is something that I deal with a lot as well. Putting things out there and not having any control about how people interpret them is a really scary, and sometimes frustrating thing.  (I am constantly thinking, “But that’s not how I meant it! If someone took it that way does it mean that I’m not being very clear? Am I not able to get my point across? Do I basically suck at this?”) And then I let it go, because at some point you just can’t worry about it any more.

 

And at some point on Saturday I decided that I just can’t worry about him anymore. And it’s hard, because there are his kids to consider, and though I do worry about them every day, I have finally come to terms with the fact that he can no longer be in my life in any way shape or form. (12 hours after I decided this he was still texting me verbally abusive things about how what a crazy bitch I was… and saying that I was the one who kept bugging him etc… No communication seems like a no brainer).  I’m not trying to bad-mouth him, and I do really want what is best for him and his family. He is damaged and I knew that going in, and I hope he finds what he is looking for, but I also know that it doesn’t involve me in anyway, and that I need to focus on my own happiness.

 

I’m also going through a transition at my job right now. Over all it’s a really good thing, but I’m no longer Managing, and I went through a few days of mental battles with this. I love having more free time, and it’s a bit of a relief to not be in charge of people, to be able to clock in and out and leave things at the door.  I’m not exactly passionate about washing dishes, waiting tables etc. but I am passionate about the place that I work, which is at least something. I had a few fleeting moments of  “I have a liberal arts degree, I’m 28. All of my friends have careers and THIS is my life?”  but I have let go of that thinking. I’m thrilled to have a job that pays the rent and puts food on the table, and for the first time since I’ve been out of school I’m not married to my job. This is wonderful and also terrifying. I’ve been able to hide behind my job for so long… (I am fine being single 100%. However when every other person on the planet tends to repeatedly ask you a million times why you aren’t dating someone, its nice to be able to say things like “well I work  a lot, and not a lot of available men are frequenting the lavender farm these days” or “I barely have time to walk the dog most days, do you think I have time to go out and meet men?”) But all this to say, I’m not entirely sure what I want to do with my life, I don’t have a 5 year plan, and every time someone brings this up, I get a little panicky. Had you asked me this a year ago, I could have told you with unwavering certainty exactly what I wanted with my life.  (move to Portland, Marry this guy, go to graduate school, be a part time step mom, teach yoga. Things change. It happens. I haven’t picked a new dream yet… but I’m giving myself some time to work on that… and hopefully now that I do have more free time I’ll be able to follow some more passions. )

 

ANYWAY, long backstory per usual, but Sunday morning left me feeling like I was kind of hit by a bus… well actually more like my face was stung by like 10 bees. I was sad, and puffy, and emotionally belittled and I decided right then and there I was going to do a 5 day mini-life detox.

 

Mostly this just consisted of a few key things. 1) exercise daily. 2) make healthy choices. 3) surround myself with positive and uplifting people. 4) drink a whole lot of juice. 5) be joyful.  Mission accomplished.

True, I’ve eaten some junk food, and rolled my eyes a few times this week.  But I’ve also gotten up every day and made the decision to be happy. I’ve frolicked in the amazing fall weather, I’ve seen and talked to some great friends, I’ve been moving my person, and focusing on the good things. And you know what? Life is pretty delightful.

 

Here are some other things I’ve done recently to detox my life and work towards being a better me.

 

3 day Juice Cleanse from Portland Juice Press:

AKA the best thing ever. I had such a great time doing this juice cleanse, and Portland Juice Press was amazing to work with. They offered us a group rate, even delivered it all the way out to wine country, the juices were interesting and delicious, and it was such a great way to jump start some healthy habits. I cannot recommend it enough.

Post Juice cleanse I kind of jumped on the juicing wagon. I got a hand me down juicer from a good friend, and started juicing up a storm. After juicing at least once a day for a month, I thought it was time to invest, so this week when I was feeling a little down, and maybe a little impulsive (though if I was really feeling impulsive I would have bought the $300 Frye boots… instead I got a juicer… which is really just investing in my life) The new juicer is amazing, and I’m juicing just about everything in sight. Yesterday I put fennel bulb in there! And you know what, it was delicious.  Some of my other favorite things to add to juice, Cilantro, Collard Greens,  and red peppers.  But the fennel was like blow your mind good.

Starting tomorrow I’m doing a 21 day “Get Your Juice on” challenge. Its free, and simple. 1 juice a day for 21 days. It’s not a cleanse, its not a diet plan, its just “add this juice to whatever you are already doing, and see what happens” experiment. Last time I checked there were over 150 people signed up for it, and it should hopefully be a fun way to share recipes and stories. It starts tomorrow, so its not to late to join! http://getyourjuiceonchallenge.com

 

I also signed up for this 10 day whole life cleanse. My Good Friend Amanda over at The Savoury Soul is putting it together, and I’m looking forward to not only supporting her as she launches her first program, but also digging in and finding some ways to let go of some of my own baggage.

 

And I’m also listening to more Country Music. Um what? Since when did my Montanian roots catch up with me? Its not for everyone, and some songs are way too redneck, my cheated heart, or my mama taught me themed for my liking. But a lot of it is just happy… and lately it kind of makes me happy. Go figure. (Maybe its a phase?)  Feel free to groan and eye roll, and then listen to some Keith Urban or Darius Rucker.

 

 

 Some Pictures from this week.

Frolicking in the Fall Leaves

Frolicking in the Fall Leaves

Arebequina Olives. Its almost Olive Harvest time in Oregon!

Arebequina Olives. Its almost Olive Harvest time in Oregon!

 

My trusted steed.

My trusted steed.

 

 

 

A Truly Magical evening at Jacobsen Salt Co.

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Before I even get started, let me just say that I kinda have a crush on Ben Jacobsen. Now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, I can get on to the really important things, like how magical* my Wednesday evening was.

 

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racks and racks of salt

 

(* I’m realizing right here and now as I compose this in my head that I’m probably going to say magical and amazing a whole lot in this post.  I looked up all the synonyms for magical, and it really doesn’t feel authentic for me to say things like fairylike, mystic, or paranormal… stupid thesaurus. I apologize in advance if you want to punch me in the face because I’m gushing about my magical evening. )

 

I woke up on Wednesday morning to sunlight streaming in my window. Both my cell phone and computer had died in the middle of the night so I had no idea what time it was (yes they were both situated in bed next to me, its fine I sleep alone, there is plenty of room) but I laid there for a while just basking in the fact that I had the day off, and I figured I probably couldn’t sleep through my morning yoga class even if I tried (well, ok I could, but I was pretty confident that even if I didn’t know what time it was, I hadn’t yet missed my class. I was correct).  I started to think about what I was going to do that day, and as I laid there looking at what was potentially the last really perfect Indian Summer day, I decided to drop everything and spontaneously head to the coast for a dinner at Jacobsen Salt Company.

 

I had been toying around with the idea for a little while, and I knew I would be going to at least one of the dinners there this fall, I just hadn’t decided which one. I had a million reasons why I hadn’t signed up for this dinner, but on Wednesday morning, none of them actually seemed legitimate (ok, maybe the budget reason was legit… I’m choosing to ignore that)  I was bummed I wasn’t going to any of the Feast Portland events over the weekend, and was craving a foodie adventure. So I rolled out of bed, found my computer cord, waited for baby-mac to charge, and promptly bought a ticket. Gotta love the power of the interwebs.

 

Over the past few weeks a few things have changed  a bit in my life. The largest thing  being my job (more about this at another time) but I’ve suddenly found myself working a lot less (hilarious that full time seems leisurely these days) and have been trying to focus on filling my free time with things that make me happy. Exercise, socializing, fun experiences… and lets face it. Amazing food and wine make me really, really happy. Throw in fun people, and pushing out of my comfort zone a little bit, with the spontaneity factor, and I’m pretty much blissed out.  So getting a ticket for a dinner with Chris Cosentino at a enchanting salt factory on the Oregon coast was really a no brainer.  (seriously, why did I wait until that morning? I have no idea… going to this dinner was perhaps one of the best decisions I’ve ever made… at least one of the most fun things I’ve done for myself in a long time)

 

Fall time always makes me feel a little introspective. With the afore mentioned free time, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, evaluating, and self analysis. (sometimes this is good. Other times not so much, but at the moment, I think it is good to take a step back, and realize ways in which I want to grow) One thing I’ve really been sensitive to is trying to make a name for myself. Maybe not even really that… it’s more like I want to be memorable. At my former job I really struggled with this, partially because as an event planner it is pretty much your job to blend in and be behind the scenes. This was all good and fine at weddings, and private functions, but it got really frustrating at industry events and wine club pick ups, because I felt like I was meeting the same people over and over and over again, and each time they had no clue that we had met dozens of times before. A lot of that is just the industry, and some of it was me being a wall flower, but regardless, it started to wear on me a little bit. Not that I want to be the center of attention, but I think every person at least hopes to be memorable in some way.

 

I went through a lot of the same thing last year when I started dating my ex. He is a chef, and kind of a famous one, and once again, I would go out with him, and I would “meet” people whom I’ve met before, and now suddenly that we were together I was standing out.  At least at the time… flash forward to now, and I run into people that I met when we were together all over the place. They usually just look at me with no recognition, all the while I’m replaying conversations I had with them in my head. I’m trying not to take it personally… I have a really hard time with names, and I know that I meet a lot of people at the market, and I can’t always place where I know them from…  But at the end of the day, I don’t want to be forgettable, but I also want to stand out for who I am, and not for who I am with or where I work.

 

And I feel like in the last year I’ve finally gotten a handle on this. I know that most people actually associate me with where I work… but I’m pretty ok with that.  Red Hills Market is kind of the epicenter of wine country, and if people know who I am because I make their latte’s every day, or because I cater at their winery, I’m ok with that. Because for the first time since I joined this crazy/fun/unpredictable industry I feel like I’m actually a part of the community, and not just orbiting outside of it. And it feels nice to be making connections, and mostly making them on my own. (of course, I get home on Wednesday evening, and my ex, who is friends with Chris Cosentino calls me to ask about the dinner, and immediately says “well did you talk to Chris? Did you tell him that we know each other? Did he give you the time of day because you know me?”  Le sigh.  No, I did not name drop, and I knew that I  totally could have, and perhaps would have had a magical celebrity chef moment… but for me Wednesday night wasn’t about name dropping. It was about amazing food at an amazing place, and putting myself out there for who I was.)

 

Anyway, long tangent coming back around…  I had been at Jacobsen Salt Co. all of two seconds, and I step out of my car and the first thing I hear is “Oh hi Awkward Olive!”  And there is Jami Curl of St. Cupcake and Quinn  aka “sprinklefingers” greeting me with a smile and a hug. We had never actually met before, and up until that moment had only known each other through Instagram, so the whole thing was a little surreal.  I know lots of people have twitter meet ups (is there like a catchy term for that? I don’t tweet really, so I have no idea) Anyway, I always had a sneaking suspicion that if we ever met, we would be friends in real life. I should probably be more creeped out that I already felt like I had a connection and a real life relationship with this person whom I have only ever communicated with via photo comments (the fact that she isn’t creeped out that I’m a little bit obsessed with her son,  in a totally not creepy way, makes me think that we really actually get each other pretty well).  I find her to be really entertaining (follow her on instragram, for reals, you won’t regret it) and very relatable.  I knew within moments of stepping out of my car that I was among friends, and that the evening was going to be amazing, and it just kept getting better.  I met a bunch of fun new people, re-connected with some people I already knew, and had a blast putting myself out there.  At one point we were on a tour of the salt facility Jami turned to me and said “When we go into the room with the large pool, I want you to imagine that I have given Ben the gift of an otter, and its in the pool swimming on its back with a little shell clutched to its chest. It will make the tour a lot better.”  Yup I knew she was my kind of person.

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As we waited for the tour to commence, and dinner to be served we lingered by the water, sipped on pink bubbles (the wine kind, not the blowing kind) from Soter Vineyards… It was all pretty much heaven. I’ve been a fan of Soter for quite some time, and my old roommate used to work there, so last winter I became quite familiar with their wine. I also became much more familiar with the people working there, and find them all to be quite delightful. Hallie Whyte and I actually went to college together, but our paths never crossed very much, so its fun to have that Linfield connection with someone now. It’s kind of amazing to me how a school can be so small, and yet I’m still meeting people that I didn’t really know when we were engrossed in academia.  Anyway, I’m getting super off track… the wine, the bay, the facility, the people… to say it was anything less than magical would be a complete understatement.

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Starting off the tour

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Ben and Chris hanging out before dinner

Jacobsen Salt Co. is hands down one of the coolest places I’ve ever been to. It is this tiny oyster farm converted into a salt factory, and it isn’t fancy, and yet it is the type of place that makes you want to drop everything, quit your life and somehow be a part of it.  (I love finding those types of places… don’t you?) My words aren’t really doing it justice right now, really you just have to go and experience it for yourself, preferably on a sunny day with pink bubbles… but I have a sneaking suspicion that it is a pretty magical place any day of the week under any conditions with or without wine.  It also help that there are good people there.

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I met Ben a few years ago when he was just getting things started. He was making a delivery to Red Ridge Farms, and he had giant Rubbermade tubs full of lemon zest salt in the back of his car (before it was even available, back when he was schlepping sea water all the way to Portland to make his salt… it sounds hard.)  He was so charismatic, and so passionate about what he was doing… again, My type of people. How can you not be just drawn to people like that who are so passionate about what they do? (Le sigh, again. On the bright side, I am absolutely 100% passionate about where I work, just not what I do… I’m fine with this for now… I’m only 28, I think I have some time to figure things out, and my job does allow me to teach yoga, which is indeed a passion…) But Passionate people are where it’s at in my book.  Anyway, long story short, Ben is kind of adorable, and maybe the nicest person you will ever meet, and when I started working at RHM, I knew that I wanted him to come and do a salt tasting for the staff. Pretty much my first act as Front of House Manager, was to re-order salt, and get him on the books for our next staff meeting.  (It was SO fun!) I’m pretty sure just about everyone has the same thought/ reaction after hearing his story. Why aren’t more people making salt in Oregon/ Why wasn’t this my ingenious idea?  Regardless, the product is amazing, like truly truly amazing, and it only makes it that much better that the person behind the product with the vision is a cool person.

 

Ok, onto the food portion of the evening. DE-LISH.  I didn’t take nearly as many photos as I should have, or notes for that matter… Part of me wishes that I had notes about each bite, that I had written snippets about each course, and had squirreled away descriptors… I might kick myself for it later… How often do you get a meal prepared for you by Chris Cosentino? But to be perfectly honest, I was too busy basking in the whole experience. Yes, the food was a major part of that… but it was the evening overall that was so memorable, and for me the whole was greater than the sum of its parts. The wine, the food, the setting, the company…

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Le Menu

When my ex called to ask me about name dropping he also was grilling me for details on the food. Apparently Chris told him he was one-upping one of his dishes, so naturally he wanted the scoop. I couldn’t tell you if the blood sausage on the oyster was hot or cold, or what it was served with… I could tell you that I would have probably eaten 15 more of them if given the chance.

 

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I don’t have a picture of the oysters, but I do have a picture of these oysters doubling as salt cellars.

 

 

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The Radish and sea urchin salad was everything I wanted it to be. Light, crisp, simple, yet rich. There was color, and texture, and complexity, and just overall yumminess.

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Probably my favorite dish of the night was the Heirloom tomato and Nduja bruschetta. Come on, you had me at spreadable sausage. Hello. Plus tomato season is just on its way out, and nothing tastes as much like summer as beautiful garden fresh tomatoes.

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Heriloom tomatoes and Nduja Bruschetta

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The next course was  a truly breathtaking assortment of surf-n-turf.  As Jami so perfectly put it “we are going to have the meat sweats after this” Indeed we did. I had 2-3 servings of steak, perfectly cooked scallops, and an assortment of pickled veg. Yes, pickled veg, AKA the way to my heart. I do love a good pickle.

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Smoked Meats, diver Scallops and Incanto Gardineria

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We finished up the food portion of the night with a salt roasted pear. I saw a sneak peek of this on instagram earlier in the day, and had therefore been thinking about it/ looking forward to it pretty much all day. It didn’t disappoint. It was perfectly balanced, not too sweet… oh and did I mention that there was foie gras? It was amazing. Like the last meal you might ever want to eat in your life amazing.

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Salt Roasted Pear, hazelnuts and Foie Gras

 

I failed to take any pictures of the flower arrangements, but they were breathtakingly put together by Field Works Flowers. Meg was lovely to sit across from, and I’m totally enthralled by her work.

 

After dinner, I lingered a bit longer, not willing to end the night with dessert. It’s almost like the whole night was out of  an enchanted fairy tale, because after dinner we strolled back down to the bay, and drank more wine, and listened to the ocean in the light from the full moon. Real life Oregon, sometimes it’s a f*ing fairy tale.  And sometimes in this fairy tale you can’t stop gigging because Jon Valls says things like “It’s the big F*ing dipper, yo!”  Eventually we made our way up to the house, and sat around the fire pit for a while. Everyone else was mostly talking about all the upcoming events/ work to be done for Feast Portland, major upcoming projects etc. This is the part of the evening, where I most likely put on my introverted hat and just sat back and observed everyone’s interactions. I know it makes me seem socially awkward/ uninterested but really its just how I process. I love observing people and how they interact, and I’m just a really good listener, so its easier for me to sit back and hear and see people interacting with each other, and just soak in all the goodness. I know this backfires on me all the time, because I tend not to ask a lot of engaging questions, or any questions for that matter because I feel like I’m getting to know people just by observing. And as a result it feels really un-genuine  for me to ask questions that I already know the answer to. (for example, its kind of impossible for me to make small talk with this incredibly gorgeous wine guy who comes into the market all the time, because I already know where he works, and what he does, and that they are harvesting. I also know that when he comes in 95% of the time he is going to get a breakfast sandwich and salt and vinegar chips… and because I know all of this is makes it really hard for me to ask things like “Oh have you started harvest yet?” because I already know the answer. This is a really really dumb hang up, because obviously if I’m asking the question he doesn’t know that I know the answer… same goes for every other situation in my life… This is why small talk is THE WORST. But also this is maybe why Speed Dating would be amazing, because I wouldn’t know anything about anyone, and would only have a few moments to interact and no time to get all observy of people. Yes, I said observy. Longest tangent of all time. To sum up, why won’t the sexy wine guy just ask me some random small talky question? And more importantly, why won’t the speed dating company get back to me? For reals, apparently no one in the Porland area between the ages of 28-40 is interested in speed dating, because I’ve been waiting for them to schedule an event for 3 months…) Jesus, I should probably stop writing while I’m maybe a head?  Ha, realistically I should just edit this down, but what fun would that be?

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The fire pit/ after party

I left reluctantly, not wanting the evening to end, but knowing that I had an hour and half drive a head of me, and a sassy bulldog awaiting me at home.  I also knew that I had committed to meet a friend at Pilaties class the next morning (like I said, dinner involved meat sweats. Exercise the next day was not optional).  I tore myself away from the fire, gave Ben a hug goodbye, and settled into my drive home, with pretty much a perma-smile on my face.  Good food, good wine, good people. = an absolutely perfect night.  A magical setting, some amazing new friends… I think I’m going to let myself be spontaneous a little more often. I’m also going to eat more spreadable salami. And maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll get to spend some more incredible moments at Jacobsen Salt Co. AKA one of the most amazing places on earth.

 

 

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Lemon Zest Salt

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Freshly harvested salt

*I just re-read this, and the use of magical, enchanting etc is a little gross… but I can’t help it. I wrote this somewhat late at night, and really those are the words that best describe the evening.

September is for meditating, booty shaking, and fighting the fall funk.

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The time has come, the walrus said…. Not that I’m comparing myself to a walrus or anything. September is here, and with it comes a lot of things. Mostly a little bit of restlessness. I’ve come to expect this every year, and sometimes even crave it along with the cooler days, the occasional rain, the change of leaves and the start of harvest. I’ve said it before (probably in a blog post from around this time, oh every year since I’ve been blogging) but I think we are programed from a young age to expect change every year. September brings the start of school, a new season, and from the time we are little September brings around change. So its sometimes a harsh reality when we reach adulthood, and realize that jobs don’t change every year, nor do living situations (well I mean they can….) and part of growing up is often settling into that stability, and yes sometimes stagnant routine.

I feel it this time of year especially, because this is when things start to slow down a little bit with work, my two best friends start to travel extensively for their jobs, and as the days become cozier I tend to become a little more introverted.  Well this year, I’m getting a jump on the stagnant feeling, I’m combatting the lonely, and trying to fill my days with manageable change.

Let me just clarify, I’m not bored. I wish I had enough time to be bored… but every waking moment is pretty much jam packed of things to do… but I can tell already that I’m heading for my fall rut, and might actually be prematurely there due to my broken toe/ the collapse of my summer project and goal of running a half marathon.  I became a bit of a slug the last six weeks, and though I’ve still been practicing yoga, I haven’t been motivated to do much else as far as moving my person.

So I’m re-focusing my energies this month, and am being proactive about doing things that are good for me mentally as well as physically, and I’m making small adjustments to my day-to-day routine to make sure that I am living a life that feels fulfilled and meaningful. My friend Amanda over at The Savoury Soul is encouraging people to build their best life. I wrote a guest post for her  blog this week, and am trying to refocus my energy and remind myself that I need to be my own champion, figure out what I need, and take little steps on a daily basis to make my life a little bit happier and healthier.  Amanda has really inspired me lately, and here are  a few of the things I’m going to do/ focus on this month to try and build my best life.

1)   I’m going to be awesome at my job. Not that I’m not already trying to be a successful and productive employee, but  I know there are days when I get overwhelmed, frustrated, and sometimes defeated. I’m going to approach each day with a positive attitude , I’m going to learn from each experience, and everyday I’m going to try to be better and more efficient. I’m going to be filled with gratitude that I have a wonderful job, understanding bosses, and co-workers who are (mostly) supportive. I’m going to be thankful that I have a happy and healthy work environment, and I’m going to focus on the positive, and let go of the negative.

2)   I’m actually going to start meditating again. Whenever life feels out of balance, I think this is a good place to start. Even if it is just a few moments a day, I’m going to make a conscious effort to take a little time to turn inward.

3)   Kick my butt into high gear. I’ve been off my feet for too long, and out of my exercise routine, and I’m feeling a little doughy. I recently purchased a package at Barre 3, and plan on finding new and fun ways to move my person. (barre 3 can get a little spendy, but there is a great deal for new students, also they recently had a deal on living social…its right up my alley with a cross between ballet, yoga and pilaties. Yes please. Also I know its probably not true, but after one class I swear my cellulite is less noticeable… for reals)  I’ve already gotten my hula hoop out of the garage (mom, bring it back!) and in another week or two I’m going to get back into running. Baby steps.

4)   I’m doing a 3 day juice cleanse next week. This I’m actually really excited about. It will probably be hard, and I will probably get grouchy somewhere around, oh the first 2 hours, but I think it will be a healthy way to detox my body, and jump start some healthy habits.  (I’m giving up caffeine and gluten tomorrow, and probably dairy the day after that to ease my body into it… so lets be realistic, I will be grouchy tomorrow… but I’ll try to compensate) I’m going to be doing this with 6 other women, so hopefully we can all support each other (and not kill each other) and it will actually be a fun bonding experience. We are going with Portland Juice Press… I’ve heard good things, and they are willing to deliver all the way to Dundee. I’ll let you know how it goes.

5)   I’m going to be better about corresponding with friends, through the mail. I love getting snail mail, and it takes literally two minutes and like forty something cents (I actually don’t know how much postage is these days, I always buy forever stamps…) and it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy knowing that someone is going to open up their mail box and have a surprise note. God knows I’ve been collecting fun greeting cards and stationary since I was 12, and have moved all of it with me about a zillion times… might as well lighten the load, work on my penmanship, and start writing some letters.

6)   I renewed my passport today. I always thought I was the kind of girl who kept her passport at the ready in case an exciting adventure called me away at a moment’s notice. So when I pulled out my passport earlier this summer, I was pretty disappointed to find out it expired in February. Good thing I haven’t needed to flee the country.  Realistically I haven’t left in the country in oh, 6 years, but I like to think that my next foreign adventure is right around the corner (Pfeff I am 100% seriously looking into tickets for Paris…I’m just putting that out there)

7)   I’m going to watch less tv. It’s a noble goal. I have a lot of books I want to read, and though I do enjoy being able to mindlessly unwind when I get home from a late night at the restaurant, I’m pretty sure my life will be a little bit more balanced with a little less CSI NY. I’ve started to find myself wondering what sort of forensic evidence I’m leaving in my wake at every single place I visit… if I crime ever happens at the yoga studio, I’m totally going to be a suspect. Especially since I took toby to class this week, and he was probably shedding, and even though I swept I’m sure there is some lingering pet hair, and that will definitely link anything back to me even if I’m not involved in a crime in any way. I’m just saying… THIS IS WHY I’M CUTTING BACK ON TV.

8)   I’m taking a yoga sabbatical. After working 60+ hours a week, I needed to step back a little bit, and recharge. I’m still going to be teaching one class a week, but being responsible for teaching two classes on my “day off” was beginning to be more of a burden than a joy. I adore my students, but needed to respect my own limits, and give myself a change to re-coup.  I think as a result I will come back in a few months as a better teacher.

What steps can you take this month to make your life a little bit better? How are you fighting the Fall Funk?

Throwback Thursday: AKA traumatic stories from high school, and why I need a new summer project.

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Well, I’m looking for a new summer project. I know, life isn’t crazy busy enough… like I really have time to put something else on my plate… but I do find that I am the happiest and the healthiest when working towards an attainable goal, and I need to be doing something creative… Up to this point my summer project has been training for the Wine Country Half Marathon. And then two weeks ago I accidentally broke my toe while watering the garden. Bummer.  This of course put training on hold, which has put the 13.1 mile race on hold until next year. Wah Wah…. I’m pretty sad. This would have been my second half marathon, and I was actually getting pretty pumped to run the 13.1 miles. (I even talked my two best friends into training with me… so yeah, have fun guys… I will drop you off and pick you up…)

After I ran my first in 2010 I decided that I didn’t really need to do another one, but as time went on and things in my life once more drastically shifted (the last time I trained for a half marathon I was dealing with not getting into graduate school, and trying to figure out next steps etc.) I found myself running a bit more. In January I was broken hearted, unemployed, and had a remarkable amount of free time, and frustration so I began running again. A few miles here an there, turned into 3+ miles consistently multiple times a week, and as I dealt with trying to find a job, and the frustrations of unemployment hearings, I started adding on miles. One day, I just randomly went for a seven mile run, um what? Who am I? So I took the motivation, and signed up for the half marathon again.  Yay summer project, yay pushing myself! And then the toe thing happened…

It’s actually somewhat humorous that I’m kind of turning into a runner (ok that is maybe pushing it… I’m not really a runner. I still have to talk myself into it, and quite frankly, I trot. Maybe I’m a trotter, or a jogger or something… but I certainly wouldn’t call myself a runner yet… I am a person who goes running. There are days when I’m out there training and I think “Wait… I’m actually paying $100 so I can run 13.1 miles… what the hell is wrong with me?” but those moments pass. ) Without a doubt, the most traumatic experience of my high school years was having to run the mile in gym class my sophomore year. (This is saying a lot, because once I accidentally farted on the bus at like 6AM on the way to a Speech and Debate meet, and my friend Stephen made a cheer, and then told everyone on the bus, and practically everyone at the meet that I ripped one on the bus. Literally the cheer was “Tayler Brisbin, Ripped one!” and then there were two farting noises afterwards…  and he was prancing up and down the bus, yelling this., and by the end of the day, I’m pretty sure that every Speech and Debate member from high schools across the state were referring to me as the farting girl…And yet, the running incident was somehow more traumatic for me personally… Maybe even back then I knew that  farting on a bus would make for a really good blog tangent someday.)

Anyway, flash back to 10th grade. I had been home-schooled up to this point, and so my “version” of PE was essentially going to ballet class twice a week, and jumping on a trampoline, and occasionally running away from Moose. I wasn’t out of shape, but I most certainly wasn’t a runner. I was at an extreme disadvantage, because every other person in the public school system had been running “the mile” once a year since like 5th grade, and they knew what they were getting themselves into.  I, however did not. So there we are, in PE and it’s the girls day to run the mile, and come to find out to be on par with our age group or whatever, we are supposed to run a mile in 9 minutes or under…. UM WTF? Yes, as teenagers we are supposed to be young and spry, and full of bountiful pep and energy… but jesus a 9 minute mile? Let me just clarify, that to this day, I do not run a 9 minute mile. I am a person who runs, and a person who runs multiple times a week… and even though I’ve been training for a half marathon for over 6 months, and am living at what, maybe 500 ft above sea level? I still don’t run a 9 minute mile! (yes, I realize I’m slow, and this is maybe pathetic. I’ve come to terms with is, so should you.) Let me also just tell you that the elevation of my home town is 5,555 ft above sea level. (no joke. There is a sign telling you the elevation as you drive into the town) That is a lot of ft above sea level, in case you were wondering, and yes the air is a little bit thinner up there in the mountains.

I’m not sure how “the mile” works at other schools, but at my tiny high school, the boy s and girls ran it separately even though we had a co-ed gym class. Therefore when the girls ran the mile, we each had one of the boys from the class assigned to us to count our laps. I guess this was so we didn’t have to keep track/ couldn’t cheat… which, full discloser/ spoiler alert, I totally did.

I’m not exactly sure what lap I was on when I decided that I was going to die, but I’m pretty sure it was about lap 15 (20 laps around the gym for the mile). I will fully admit that now, as an adult, I have a bit of a gift for melodrama… but at the time, I was just pretty quiet, shy, and misunderstood. I was not the scene causing type of girl… Hello wallflower. So when I started to tell the PE teacher that I couldn’t breath, I wasn’t trying to draw attention to myself. I had never been that short of breath before ever, and I started to get a little panicky.  (of course at the time it never occurred to me to just stop and walk… though come to think of it, I’m not sure that was an option since we were being timed, and there was that 9 minute standard we were all being held against… again, who runs a 9 minute mile at 5555 ft? Olympians?) I was gasping for air, and kind of flopping around, and like “Um… I…. can’t…. breath…. Something…. Is …. Wrong….” And for reals, I was worried about passing out.  Just keep running but all the while freaking out a little bit, and being a little vocal about the fact that I was worried for my wellbeing. Of course at this point most of the boys were thinking this was hysterical, and none of the other girls seemed to be having a problem, and they all seemed put out that I was making a scene… but come on, not being able to breath is kind of scary!  Anyway, I’m not sure at what point most of the other girls lapped me, but it happened. They were all one lap ahead, and I was one behind… and all I knew for sure was that I was going to die.  And so, as most of them finished their final lap I also stopped running. I looked my  assigned counter in the eye, and I either gave him a look of “you will die if you rat me out” or I was so pathetic and floppy and red faced, that he genuinely felt bad for me.  Maybe it was both… I was pretty socially awkward back then, and mostly I was just shy because everyone else gave me a homeschooling complex, but this was just interpreted as me being a bitch… so I kind of just went with it.  Either way, everyone else knew that I was only on lap 19, but the gym teacher looked at him, and asked if that was my final lap, and he lied through his teeth and said that I was done running.  (Seth, in case you didn’t know, you are kind of my hero. Or at least you were at that moment) Unfortunately, my BFF at the time also had one lap left… she was doing much better than me, but everyone had lapped her as well, and so when everyone else finished, she still had one lap to go.  She would have of course finished running the mile before I did, but I cheated and stopped at lap 19, so at the end of the day, she was labeled with the slowest mile time in our grade. My bad.   Lets just say, she was not happy…  (this might have been the beginning of the end of our friendship, who even knows… girls are petty)  But I was too busy gulping for air and flopping around to really care.  Clearly, I feel bad about it now, but at the time I was just happy to be alive and vowed to hate running for the rest of my days.

It might not sound THAT traumatic… and come to think of it, I’m actually surprised that the farting incident didn’t scar me nearly as bad as my semester in PE… then again, this happened when I was a lowly sophomore and still adjusting to the ways of public school… Clearly the event stuck with me, because I’m pretty sure I even wrote a paper during my Freshman Year of college about how much I loathed running.  What? Who writes college level papers about that? (the whole graduate school rejection is maybe making more sense…) I’m that girl, and it makes me cringe a little.  Thankfully, times have changed, and I got over it. Look at me, training for half marathons and things…

It’s kind of like the time a baby sitter made me sit at the table and eat pizza even though I wasn’t hungry, and everyone else got to go watch the Wizard of OZ, and then for the next 13 years or so I hated pizza. I was a nightmare to have at birthday parties, because I wouldn’t eat pizza, and all the moms would have to order other food for the “picky eater.” For the longest time my parent’s thought I just didn’t like cheese, which is probably the biggest tragedy of my childhood… As far as I’m concerned, cheese is gods gift to us, and the more cheese the better.  I often wonder about how much cheese I missed out on in those thirteen years because people just assumed my aversion to pizza was actually an aversion to cheese… why did they think this? Obviously I ate the nachos that had to be special ordered for me at birthday parties because I didn’t eat pizza… but then again, as a child, I was also a vegetarian, and so it probably made perfect sense to everyone that I didn’t “like” cheese. False. I just didn’t like pizza. Clearly, I got over it. (liking pizza that is… obviously, I’m still a little sad about the mistaken cheese deprivation.) Its kind of ironic that the child who hated pizza is now the front of house manager at an establishment that is know for its woodfire pizzas, and I eat pizza at least 3 times a week…. Shoot, good thing I also got over my hatred of running… Fact: you don’t have to run as much if you hate pizza.

But, I got over my hatred of running, and my hatred of pizza…  really all this is to say, that now I need a new summer project, because training for a half marathon and a broken toe are not two things that go together, but thanks for hanging in there through the awkward/ traumatic throwbacks to high school.

Anchors Away: An engagement Party for the Ages

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At long last, I have a new computer, my internet is working, and I finally figured out how to install Word onto my Mac (giant learning curve/ why are things so fancy?)

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Earlier this spring my BFF got engaged. It’s a little bit Sex and the Cityesque, as they have been dating for roughly seven years, and no one really expected Jason to pop the question. Well kudos to Jason, because he planned a surprise engagement in Thailand, and the wedding planning is now commencing. Kudos to Amber, who has decided that after all the weddings we have attended/ been in/ helped with, that she A) is not having a bridal party, and B) is not asking any of her friends to help with the planning execution of the event.  (what are we real grown ups or something?) *Side note, I planned weddings for a living, and I was absolutely ecstatic to be in/ help execute all the weddings of my friends that I have been in and helped execute. That being said, I am also ecstatic to know that come next August, I will have a mini-reunion with all of my college friends and will not be responsible for anything besides tackling anyone who might try to make an awkward/inappropriate toast at the wedding. Mainly, because I volunteered for that duty, because if anyone is going to be awkward, it might as well be me tackling them.

Anyway, the point to this story, is that since I am not in the wedding, nor will I be asked to help with it, I figured the least I could do was throw a beautiful engagement party celebrating my friends. The theme was easy peasy  (actually the Theme was “They are Tying the Knot”  but it was easy peasy for me to come up with… Jason owns a sail boat… Amber likes to sail on it. Done.) and everything else somewhat fell into place. I have been working a ton of hours lately, so thankfully I had a little bit of help getting the yard and garden in order,  My mother helped me make the table runner and napkins, my dear friend Janet made the granola for the parfait cups, and Laura swooped in from Seattle for the weekend, and helped me run errands, cut up fruit, and entertain the dog whilst I ran around like a crazy person putting the last minute details together.  I couldn’t have been happier with the results. I had this vision in my head of how I wanted everything to look, but most of my DIY projects usually end up slightly south of that vision. Maybe I’m getting better at crafting/ maybe I’m starting to lower my expectations, but everything turned out beautifully!

So here is to Amber and Jason. Thank You for letting me throw a party in your honor.  Thanks for making the trek out to McMinnville, And thank you for helping me drink the last bottle of prosecco. And Jason, thank you for not getting mad when I accidentally tried to make out with your fiancée during a very awkward end of party photo shoot.

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The Stripy Straws

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The Bubbly Drinks

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The Fruit Skewers with Raspberry Berets

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The Lemon Curd Parfait Cups

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The Bride & Groom

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The Table Spread

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The Lemonade Jars

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The Lemonade

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Anchors Away

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The Menu

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Napkins and Things

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Flowers and Table Scape

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Wild Flowers Tamed

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The Pre Party Scene

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A and J

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Greens Number 1/ Sparkle Squad

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Look, Boys came too

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The Katy and Katie Show

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All the Things

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Guest of Honor and Hostess

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The Far away buddies

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Matching Ladies

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Then this happened…

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Bunting!

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We really like each other

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Cause we are besties

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and we accidentally almost made out, so then we laughed and cried

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But then we got this precious photo, so it was all worth it.

Birthday traditions

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28 years ago today, I was harvested from my mother’s womb ( I say harvested because I was a C section baby, and my birthday was picked off a calendar, they opened her up & out I was pulled… Is that technically a birth? I was picked like a ripe cherry… ) I’m actually eternally grateful to my parents for picking the 21st as the day I would be extracted into the world… A good odd numbered day, the summer solstice, and longest day of the year, they clearly knew what they were doing.

Oddly enough I do feel a fairly deep connection with the solstice. Nothing pagan or anything (don’t freak out mom) I always do sun salutations on my birthday that correspond with the number of years I am, and it seems even more meaningful to celebrate this tradition on the solstice.

Over the past few years I’ve come up with some other birthday rules/ traditions that I would highly suggest following. Or you, know, just find and follow your own bliss.

1) indulge a little (sometimes a lot) I always take myself shopping for my birthday. I know what I like and what I want/ need and it feels nice to splurge. Plus it’s a good time of year to get some necessities ( summer sandals, shorts, new makeup. etc.) it’s true that this year I might have gone a little overboard, which is always the danger. I hadn’t been shopping in a while and truth be told I’d probably be better off splurging on smaller items once a month than an epic day long birthday shopping spree… But a least I’m great a scoping out bargains.

Two things I ALWAYS buy myself for my birthday are alcohol and lingerie ( which sounds kind of like a scandalous combination… If only that were my life!) you always need a good bottle of booze around, and as for the other, even if I don’t have anyone in my life who appreciates the lingerie ( minus the dog, who would probably enjoy munching on it) it makes me feel sexy and confidant, and that is half the battle right there. Even if no one knows what I’m wearing in the privacy of my own home ( well ok, I guess everyone knows now…) I think every woman should buy herself something that makes her feel sexy and pretty, even if there is no one else to appreciate it. Don’t get me wrong, there are still a lot of evenings spent in sweat pants. But it’s nice to have options. Pretty options. PLUS I really do need to restock on unmentionables every year because my troll pet tends to eat all the cute skivvies ( I’ve tried to feed him the ugly granny panties, and he is un-interested… Which in itself should probably be a sign. But come on, we a have those underwear for running, or whatever, and inevitably they will be the underwear you happen to be wearing on the day you get hit by a bus or get your skirt tucked into your underwear… And it will be embarrassing and traumatic, and you will think ” why do I even own this tragic pair of underwear in the first place” and the answer to that is: it is really really uncomfortable to teach/ take a yoga class in cute/ sexy underwear. Either way, Toby will not eat the ugly ones, even if they are left on the bathroom floor… However he will eat anything remotely lacy… Pervert). Anyway, what I’m getting at, is that is usually a good idea to buy yourself new underwear once a year anyway, and why not spice it up a bit for good measure?

2) have low expectations. Birthdays are birthdays and they come and go, and people forget, and the world doesn’t stop. I think it’s important to do something special for yourself, ad maybe plan something with friends, but overall I’m done with the expectations, and so the day always turns out to be just perfect. I usually plan a dinner or something with friends either before or after the actual day, so the day itself can just be lazy and spontaneous. ( though this year I did a pre dinner with one group of friends, and real dinner with another, and it was just delightful… Minus the birthday hat that was forced upon me by the restaurant staff… I mean it was fine, but it was absolutely against my will.)

3) eat whatever the hell you want. Today for breakfast I made a tower of meat & cheese. Enough said. ( especially if there is a foam hat involved… You earned it!)

There are other tried and true birthday rules and traditions that I have, but I’m full of food and wine, I am writing this from my phone, and I have to get up and go back to work tomorrow. So instead, I will say goodnight, and spend the last few minutes of the solstice out basking in the moonlight, sans birthday crown. 🙂

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