but i'm slipping in between you and your big dreams

Turns out that despite my desperate need and want to get out of this city, I'm still going to have to deal with the things, places and people I'm going to miss. Even though I can't handle living here much longer (and in fact, will not for much longer), having spent so much time here since birth inevitably means there are things I'm going to miss...no surprise, right?

The surprise for me is the fact that, despite my love-hate-mostly-apathetic relationship with my job...I'm going to miss it. Rather, I'm going to miss those long-term guests who check into my hotel and are there for so long that they become friends rather than guests. The kind of folks who don't just pass through the lobby, but stop to practice fake karate in the hall, or sit and have dinner at the breakfast tables so that I have someone to talk to on a boring night; the kind of people who build such a rapport with me that it's funny when they joke around with me, make fun of my insane chipmunk giggle or comment on my singing voice. They're the kind of guests who make their own coffee, who have picked up dead birds at my doorway when I was too squeamish, who think it's hilarious to tell Chuck Norris jokes and see how often they can get me to roll my eyes. These guests are special. These guests hug me goodbye, call me by preferred shortened-version of my first name, stand in the lobby to make me feel safer when there are sketchy other folks checking in and I am the only person employed by the company in the ENTIRE hotel and it's 10 oclock at night and someone else has called to warn me that the police are on their way for these sketchy individuals.


I had a random guest last night tell me that with our banter, our bickers and our laughs, that me and these guests seemed like a little family. I know the pangs that hit when I think about leaving are partly because of them, but I realize that they have to leave this city sometime, too. They don't live here and soon, neither will I.

Of course, they aren't all I'll miss. I'll miss my fam, more than words could say. And I'll miss my friends, who are a second family. I had a catch-up dinner with one of my very best friends tonight and as we talked about our hopes, our dreams, pondered life and the scariness of making new leaps out into the world with our eyes wide shut, holding our breaths and hoping for the best, I realized: despite how scared we are of going out on our own, of doing news things, of having the faintest outline of a plan at best...this is all something we need to do. She needs to apply that overseas teaching job, and I need to move and just fly by the seat of my jeans for a while.

Despite everything we're terrified of, in spite of everything we'll miss...it's our time to figure out us.

And really, for me, that's the biggest dream of all.

she's done what she should, should she do what she dares?

So I missed Glee.

I missed Glee and I am in a desperate need of a haircut.

I missed the Britney episode of Glee, I desperately need a haircut and I spent my night training my replacement.

I missed Glee, my hair's a disaster, I trained replacement-me, and I got my convocation letter in the mail today.

I missed the episode because I was off training replacement me, and it bums me out for more than just the fact that I missed an episode. I missed the Britney episode, one that was sure to hit me with a wave of nostalgia for the catchy bubblegum pop tunes that defined my early adolescence, one that would have launched me back to when life was infinitely simpler, back before my heart had ever really been broken, before I'd ever really lost, back to when my life changing decisions were questions about what to wear and not where to move to.

And I'm bummed because last week, I watched the premiere with some of my favourite people in the world, eating junk and giggling like those pre-pubescent, carefree schoolgirls (save for the one male in the room who was less than impressed to be watching the show, but was there because I needed the support--you know who you are, and thank you). Last week, when I was questioning everything and having hourly meltdowns because the universe decided that I needed to deal with just one last family crisis before the summer season was officially ended, the excitement of Glee and of sharing the episode's shiny newness with people who really mattered to me, is what kept me going.

That makes this week a let down.

Moreso, it was a bummer because I didn't just miss the show, I missed it because I was working. Training the young woman who is evidently going to be my replacement, and I spent the entire time fighting that little voice at the back of my mind that made me wonder if quitting and moving without plan is really that wise of a decision after all--and don't get me wrong. She's absolutely lovely. She's going to do my job wonderfully. Perhaps my biggest issue was recognizing that someone had been hired so quickly, that I was that easily replaced to the company, that maybe my manager's "I'm sorry to see you go" isn't really all that sorry at all, and that maybe I wasn't as important as I'd wanted myself to be. I spent all this time feeling guilty about leaving them in a crappy spot (and yes, I know, I shouldn't have felt guilty in the first place) and here they are instantly replacing me. It comes as...a shock, I guess, and an ego blow...one I probably deserve, and one I won't spend hours crying over, one that won't destroy my self-esteem or anything, but one that stings a little nonetheless.

But to deal with that sting, I spent some time looking in the mirror after work. That's where the haircut comment comes from. I've had almost the same hairstyle for at least three years, and I'm realizing now it's time for a transformation. I need to do something different, something drastic, something that helps heal that small, wounded bit of ego from replacement me, something that makes me smile everytime I look in the mirror, some change that is new and different and completely unexpected to go with this life of mine that is changing to become so new and different and (in some ways) unexpected.

Hair transformation to go with the life transformation.

I'm taking suggestions.

i was thinkin' that if you know a way out, then i'd like to go with you

"You're just livin' life sweetheart". The (admittedly edited) text message that made my evening.

It's a scary thing to realize that you've actually taken a step to changing all those things you hate. It's effing terrifying to realize that you've quit your steady, full-time job in the city you hate and are moving back to the city you love with no job, no home, no plan...Possessing a free spirit is incredible. Fighting the compulsive need to be responsible is important. Managing to shush that inner voice that questions every decision you make? Not so easy.

And it takes a special kind of person to cheer you up with one text, to quiet the fears that have been building since you hastily typed the resignation letter, hit print, handed it to your boss then booked it hell bent for leather back to your car because you aren't a big fan of confrontation and really didn't want to see how that one worked out.

I've spent the past two days trying to assauge my guilt, to reconcile my need to leave and find myself, my place in this world, with that little voice in my head that consistently urges me to do what's 'right' and what's 'responsible' and what I'm 'supposed' to do. Two days, and I was going nowhere fast, til I told him I was doubting myself, til I said I thought I made a mistake and maybe I should stay here after all 'cause my job isn't all bad and I'm sure I can find something to do in this city and...Two days of that run-on worry, and he fixes it with one little text, composed of four simple words and a pet name. One little text that assures me that it's okay to feel uncertain, reinforces that this is my life and my need to leave is both real and justified, makes me see that he believes in me and my abilities to make some sense of this crazy world and find my place, that lets me know it's okay to worry about me for a change without giving thought or having this guilt about what everyone else will inevitably think.

One text.

Shouldn't we all just be livin' life?

Maybe

What the hell am I doing?

An odd way to begin the inaugral post of my blog, this introduction of myself to the blogosphere, I know, and yet for some reason it's the one thing I can't get out of my mind. Maybe it's because I've just spent the last two weeks trying to figure out what the hell I'm doing with my life, or maybe, maybe it's because I'm reconsidering this blog with every key stroke because I know that putting it out into the universe online means that these are words I can never fully get back.

Maybe.

And yet, here I am, 2:04 on a Saturday night (or Sunday morning, be you the early rising type), typing away on this silly little blog that (maybe) few will ever read.

Maybe.

Perhaps I ought to somehow briefly introduce myself, then? I'm a twenty-something woman who just finished undergrad and for the first time in her life finds herself with nothing to do but work, and it's slowly driving her crazy. I am a twenty-something girl who longs to figure out what the hell she's doing in this world and where she's going and why she's here. I am a twenty-something woman who looks out her bedroom window every single, solitary grey day and ponders how she ended up in this podunk, backwards little town that actually makes her sick because she feels like she's never going to fit, ever again.

Then...I am a twenty-something woman who's about to take charge of her life and instead of letting others decide for her, is going to decide for herself. I'm a twenty something woman who is sick of feeling guilty when she has to say no, sick of always doing the responsible thing, sick of having people's expectations looming over her head, sick of worrying about what everyone else thinks and is finally, finally just figuring out how to be.

I am a twenty-something woman who thinks she has it figured out, but knows she doesn't. I'm a twenty-something woman who can't bare to spend another day here, but still gives two weeks notice. I'm a twenty-something woman who loves to live and loves to laugh and yet has slowly found herself doing less and less of both, as of late. I am a twenty-something woman who doesn't know where she's going, but knows where she's been, and is just trying to figure out the path, the way to be happy.

I am a twenty-something woman who is turning to this little blog to help her try and sort things out. Maybe it will help. Maybe it won't.

Maybe.

People think that spring is the season for rebirth, but with the leaves changing colours rapidly, I think autumn says it best. Autumn, with its sights and smells, is the season for transformation. As autumn progresses, so too does my own transformation. At least, that's what I think. But then again...what the hell am I doing?