There’s Fog Inside The Glass Around Your Summer Heart

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With a nip in the air and the drifting of leaves, it’s no secret that the fall season is upon us.  I’m reaching for a sweater or jacket more often than not and looking to outfits that accommodate shoes with socks (this is quite the dilemma for the already incredibly fashionably challenged such as myself).

Sad that summer is over, yes, but excited for fall, also yes.  The fall season brings so many comforts we have enjoyed since childhood– from finding the perfect pumpkin to crisp apples and spiced hot drinks–perhaps with a little of the spices coming from some spiced rum?  So maybe it’s a little modification from my childhood traditions; a girl’s got to have a little fun, eh?  However, these days I’m finding myself haunted.  Not by the ghosts or spirits we so often think of at this time of year, but by my past.

By no means do I have a particularly ghastly or sortied past.  Pretty benign, typical middle-class, suburban, white chick trials and tribulations that could be often be summed up in some episode of Dawson’s Creek.  But every time I turn around, I see or hear something that seems to be right on cue to remind me of something from my past.  Not just one person in particular but various past boyfriends, friends or even experiences come to the forefront of my mind.  More often than not, it’s a song that triggers the memory, and before I know it–and usually before the song is over–I’m knee-deep in nostalgia.  And I’m talking smack-you-in-the face, smell it, feel it, hear it, nostalgia that would take the form of a vivid flash back starring a young Natalie Portman were my life a movie (come on, don’t you imagine your life as a movie sometimes? At the very least you surely have a theme song picked out, don’t lie).

If the nostalgia is about a boy, I’m right back to where I was the moment they walked out the door (let’s face, it was almost always they who were doing the walking).  I’m slowly, piece-by-piece reliving every boy break up, friend break up or pseudo break up, I ever had. (Pseudo break ups= where the relationship really never took place either by means of officiality or even ever exchanging words.  Trust me, every girl has one pseudo relationship at some time or another.  I don’t think my 1st kiss ever thought about me again after that night whereas I felt we had been in a relationship for months). I’m remember with all-too-clear vividity the loss of friendships that growing up can bring, and finding myself missing those who I thought I had moved on from, lost care for, and forgotten about.  This is especially a strange feeling considering I’m now married and have a wonderful group of friends, and at least for the ex-boyfriends, in all actuality, I don’t wish for them back.  Nor do I wish for my teen years back.  Like, at all.  But I do find myself getting so wrapped up in the sentimentality and memories that I have been moved to tears and have to remind myself that five or ten years later, I don’t even know that person anymore.

Maybe I am beginning to feel my age and you know how old people always harp on the past.  Or better yet, perhaps my old age makes me pine for the people I knew when I was young.  The only other explanation I have for all this is the significance fall held for us in our younger years.  Fall meant fresh beginnings, but it also often meant loss: bye-bye summer flings, sayonara to the social groups formed by last year’s classes and in comes the sinking feeling of having to start all over from forming lunch groups to study buddies (yeah, I was that girl).

Or maybe I’ve been programed to use the fall as a time to reflect on the past in order to move forward?  Or maybe it’s just the time of year for hauntings (as well as horribly slutty costumes that set the feminist movement back about 50 years and prove a child molesters’ wet dream–sorry but have you SEEN the kids costumes for girls lately?!). ‘Til I figure this out, or just move on, you’ll find me in my room brooding over the past a-la’ Grease’s Sandy  in “Hopelessly Devoted To You.”  And seeking out some much needed therapy.

Theme Song: Ghost by The Indigo Girls

Now Formally Requesting a Lifesaver

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Today in and of itself has been a mistake of gargantuan proportions.  Well, not really.  But it feels that way.  Many days feel that way lately.

After a restless nights sleep, the morning started with the horrifying show of my embarrassing child-like behaviors as I had my blood drawn (read: serious fear of needles that results in screaming and crying), followed by no parking for (what seemed like) miles at work (glad I wore heels today!) and forgetting my workout clothes, I’m SO over the existence of today.  Then when I actually made it to work, a superior was quick to point out two recent mistakes I had made before i could even guzzle my first sips of coffee.  And it’s only 10am.

True nothing SERIOUSLY terrible has happened.  True, the day could get better.  It is, after all, ONLY 10am. But it’s also probably true that the sinking feeling in my stomach makes me intuitively know otherwise.  If I were a cartoon, a huge piano would be dropping on my head every move I took.  Days like this often do not get better, only more defeated.  Days like this find myself thinking ‘something’s got to give’ and leave me craving dramatic change in my life.  Only I don’t know where to start.  The litany of things that need improvement from my body, to my job, to some of my relationships, leave me floundering in a sea of fears and doubts that leave me an overwhelmed mess.

What do you do when things get this way?  The best answers I have found are crying, wine and sleep but none of those are available to me for the next five hours, and truth be told, they are growing old as these type of days grow more frequent.  An attitude change WOULD be the best solution here (thank you to my therapist for pointing our that obvious answer), but HOW do you DO that??  The psych and counseling major in me knows it’s all about changing thinking patterns, even if forcefully.  But I need help now, stat, asap.  Time to formulate a plan, and since planning and lists are what I do best, that’s what I am going to do.  I’ll keep you posted.

Til then, enjoy the theme song of the day : Fuel- Bad Day

Meet Me At The Crossroads

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crossroads plural of cross·roads (Noun)

1. An intersection of two or more roads.

2. A point at which a crucial decision must be made that will have far-reaching consequences.

Bone Thugs-N-Harmony sang about it in the 90’s, Tracy Chapman seems to have wrote an entire album about it, Robert Frost has his infamous Road Not Taken poem alluding to it, and even Britney Spears made a whole movie surrounding the topic (and while I’m a full on out-of-the-closet Britney fan, let’s face it-her level of ingenuity and sophistication is right up there with the cast of The Jersey Shore).  Clearly, it’s an idea and a place in life that everyone can relate to at some time or another.  However, looking at definition #2 above, being in that position sounds pret-ty scarey to me.

And hence, here I am.  Mid 20’s, midst of a quarter-life crisis.  Masters degree, check.  House, check.  Husband, check. Friends, check.  Seems like everything should be all set in my life.  Stable, permanent, constantly happy.  Not exactly.  Despite all the wonderful things life has brought me thus far, I’m only now beginning to realize that at 20-something, I know oh-so-little about life.  Shit, I know oh-so-little about myself.

After spending years and years working endlessly in an all consuming manner toward seemingly imperative goals—good grades, networking connections, saving money, masters degrees— that would offer the perfect adult life in return, I’m only now realizing that nothing is a guarantee.  Nothing has all the answers.  Nothing is ever that easy.  Not to mention all this goal-reaching and ambition has left me with little idea of who I am outside of the world of work and academia.  Enter the point of this blog.

I’m here to explore life at the crossroads.  You grow up thinking that life will have a certain path, or pattern.  Go to school, go to college, get married, get a job, have kids, kids have grandkids, retire…what about all that’s in between?! Why does no one ever talk about that?! And let’s face it, life is different now.  Maybe I don’t want kids.  Maybe I don’t want to get married, even if I have found the perfect life partner (well it’s too late for that for me…but just sayin’…).  This blog will be a vehicle to explore various ideas, topics, experiences and everything else in between when you are living THE in between.  And I’m slowly realizing that can be anywhere from age 20 to 120.  Life transitions between stages all the time and the only constant is change.  Feel free to comment, suggest and add to conversation if you can relate to anything or want anything addressed.

Hope to see you around!