True Love: How a Turkey and Parsnips Made Me Cry

Every year at Thanksgiving, my company gives each employee a turkey for the holiday.

The past several years, I’ve donated my turkey to my mother for our family Thanksgiving.  But last year I decided that I wanted to host a dinner for my closest friends.  I picked a weekend halfway between Thanksgiving and Christmas and set out to make the menu.

For weeks, I perused cooking websites and asked family and coworkers for recipes. My friends all signed on to bring dishes to share.  Then I finally put together my menu.  I’d be preparing the turkey, dressing, several side dishes and appetizers. 

In the weeks leading up to the event, I must have asked my mom “How long do you roast the stuffing?” at least fifty times - among so many other questions.  Even though I kept waiting for her to tell me to back off, she was always supportive – she wanted my first “grown-up” dinner party to go well almost as much as I did.

The day before the event, it was finally time for me to cook the turkey.

I will be the first person to say that I’m willfully ignorant when it comes to many of the details of food processing.  I buy individual, nicely trimmed chicken breasts and pre-cut roasts from the meat counter at the grocer’s.  I’ve seen my mother prepare turkeys in the past – had listened to her tell me many times about thoroughly washing the bird and what parts needed to be removed - but I’d never actually handled one before in my life.

Turkeys are slippery. 

And wobbly.  

How the hell was I supposed to rinse the thing?  And what is with that weird flap of skin?  Am I supposed to pluck the random feathers that are still on it?  The neck has bones in it?!? Two openings?  And ok, Martha Stewart said to tie the legs together and tuck them - OH GOD! DID I JUST BREAK ITS LEG?

I stopped a few (dozen) times.

I’d cleaned my kitchen immaculately before beginning the process of preparing the turkey.  You could eat pudding out of the garbage can and mashed potatoes off the floor – before I unleashed the turkey.  But after just ten minutes it looked like a band of deranged interior designers had taken over and declared that Salmonella was the perfect accent color to compliment my polished concrete floors.

But after just a little more gentle coaxing the struggle ended.  The turkey was cooked, carved and ready for the next day’s festivities.  I re-disinfected my entire home and the day of the event finally arrived. 

I like to put a lot of work into hosting events for my guests.  I want people to feel welcome and, most importantly, I want them to have fun.  So the morning and afternoon before the dinner party, I had more work to do. 

That was how I found myself, just couple of hours before the event, getting weepy while cutting parsnips.

It had been stressful preparing the meal and cleaning my home.  But I was filled with excitement.  And for such a stupid thing – it was just a meal!

But I thought of my mother and my aunts and grandmothers and how they did this year after year, holiday after holiday. 

And I finally understood. 

Because yes, it was just a meal but more than that, it was a way to celebrate the people I love. 

It was an attempt to give back to them something that was tangible and in some way showed them that they were worth it all.  I had toiled away cleaning, wrestling dead birds, and murdering parsnips in order to give them something special.

Most of us are still putting the pieces together to figure out what this whole adulthood thing means.  Most of us are still living in less-than amazing homes or working less-than amazing jobs.  Most of us still think a good night out is one in which we don’t drunkenly lose our cellphones or end up with any broken bones. 

Humor often replaces sincerity and genuine emotion is hidden in favor of aloofness and bravado.

But the reality is that we are lucky. I am so. damn. lucky.

My friends and I often talk about how we’re a family.  We’re blessed in that most of us have families ourselves, many of them close by, and most of us love our families very much.  But the family of friends that you build as you step into adulthood is the one who sees you in your most vulnerable moments.  They see you as you try a new experience for the first time and are there to laugh it off with you when it doesn’t work out or hold you up when it threatens to drag you down.  They are the ones who celebrate you and push you to be better.

Hopefully.

Not everyone has that.  Not everyone has someone they can turn to at a moment’s notice for a ride to work.  Not everyone has someone who will come over and make them breakfast because they woke up on the cloudy side of the rainbow.  Not everyone has someone who will forgive them when they’ve been a real jerk.

So as I finished cutting my parsnips I reflected on what it meant to work to provide people you love with something special, something out of the ordinary.  I smiled as I felt the warmth of love in my heart and laughed at myself for getting weepy over vegetables and turkey. 

I say this without any exaggeration - Every time I am with my friends is my favorite day.  It doesn’t even matter what we do.  When we’re together, I’m surrounded by love. 

They are the loves of my life.

Strange and pasty as they may be.

What do you and your friends do to celebrate your lives together? 

Do you find it challenging to share genuine feelings amongst your friends?

Much Love,

Annie Jay

PS - This was the first part in my new blog series, True Love, about how love manifests in the world around us. 

 I'd really like to expand the conversation.  

Shout at me via email at thegrowupplan@yahoo.com, via Twitter @TheGrowUpPlan, or comment right here on this blog.  I'm down for questions, suggestions of topics you'd like to see covered and most of all - your own stories about how you've found yourself in the presence of love.

No Longer a Landlubber

Oh hi!

Remember how I wrote about that interview I was going to have?  Well, I got the promotion!

Big smiles :-D

*whew* So glad that is over.

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In other news - it's 86 degrees outside and I'm working when all I really really want to do is be here:

Either at Devil's Lake State Park in Baraboo, WI, or in a kayak, or both.

Or here:

Chillin' in the bow of Dixie on the Mighty Mississippi.
Even on a cloudy day, there's nowhere better to be.
(and yes, feet are gross, but this picture makes me happy anyway)

Or here:

Once again... Dixie with three of my favorite men after an all-day regata.

I've lived in a river town my entire life and I've always felt a connection to bodies of water - breathing is just easier when I'm near the river or my favorite lake.  As soon as I learned to drive I would often spend days sitting by the river and writing or reading.   Plus, I love to swim and play in the water.

But I never used to like actually going on the river in boats.  I actually used to have a terrible fear of being in any watercraft smaller than a yacht (not that I'd ever been in many of those).  I'm not kidding - I'd have full-blown panic attacks - hyperventillation, crying - all that jazz.

Like I said, I love to swim, and I'm actually quite good at it.  So the fear wasn't really about drowning or of the water itself.  The fear was about being thrown overboard, or capsizing and getting sucked under, or hurt somehow on my way into the water - I was afraid of something happening to make it so I'd be unable to swim myself to safety.

My mother, who had been witness to my fear on many occasions and who didn't want her water-loving daughter to live with such a handicap (bless her) thought it would be a great idea if we took mother/daughter canoeing lessons when I was 16 or 17 years old.

I was skeptical, but she invited her best friend and her daughters who were my best friends to join in the lessons with us.  I'm sure there must have been some other threats or bribes going on that made me agree to participate in the lessons - or it was simply a matter of pride for me since the other girls were joining us - but I agreed nonetheless.

Our first day, we met our instructor in the parking lot of a local marina.  He explained that we would just be paddling around the marina that day and wouldn't go into the actual river.  That didn't sound too bad to me because although the marina was deep, there would be a dock or shore near enough if my worst fears came true.

After we spent some time standing next to our canoes and learning how to paddle, it was time to get in and give it a try.  Mom and I lugged our canoe to the water.  She held the canoe in place while I tentatively stepped in.  I took my seat and did my best to stabilize the canoe with my paddle as Mom took her seat.

My heart raced and my breath started coming out in short gasps as we paddled into the middle of the marina.

"Keep calm, Ann." Mom said from her seat behind me.

"Shut up, Mom!" I yelled back at her, trying and failing to keep the panic at bay.  (This was at a tenuous time in our relationship, what with me being a teenager and all.)

We paddled some more.  I looked back and we were about 100 feet from the shore.

The next thing I knew, something was very wrong.  My hands were still on the paddle, but something was definitely very wrong.  My legs felt too free and my oxygen tasted too fishy.

I was in the water.

Of course I was in the water.

After what felt like three hours, I fought my way back to the surface.  I checked to make sure my mom wasn't drowning - she wasn't.  In fact, she had her head above water, an arm over the canoe and was simultaneously cussing and laughing.  I glared at her before I started swimming back to shore.  She laughed at me and I continued to swim on even though she was asking me to help her lug the canoe back to shore.

But at that point, I knew that I was right and she was wrong - watercraft were the devil and that class was stupid.  For the rest of the course (3-5 more sessions) I would be forced to go along with my mother but refused to get back in a canoe.  I would instead sit and read - and glare anytime she'd try to show me how much fun it was.

To this day, we disagree over who ended up tipping the canoe.  I blame her for paddling too hard, she blames me for being too fidgety.  But once again, I'm sure I'm right.

A couple of summers later, I ended up going camping with some friends.  That was when I was finally able to get into a canoe and actually enjoy myself.

Then, several years ago, my friend Mac started taking us out on the river in his dad's boat.  It still took all of the courage I had to get into the boat, but I started going and I started enjoying myself.  Then, a few years ago, Mac bought his own boat.

Mac and I have been friends for many years, so he knows two things about me:
1.) I get panicky in boats
2.) I'm a control freak.

So he took those two things and put them together.  The conclusion he came to was that I needed to learn how to drive the boat.

I'm not going to say that it totally fixed the fear - I still have to huddle in the back of the boat with my head buried in my lap if we're going to be going very fast - but it definitely helped!  Now that I understand exactly how the boat is supposed to move through the water and cut through the waves, I can understand what motions are normal and I'm able to recognize when there might be actual danger.

Thank the gods that I've learned to love going out on boats.  Now I can really enjoy the water I love so much. With kayaks I can explore hidden areas on the lakes I love so much, and with Dixie (Mac's boat) I can see areas of the river I never would have dreamed of before.

And this weekend I shall get to go out on the river for the first time this year!

Dixie's callin' my name!

I hope you all have your own amazing summer fun to look forward to this weekend!

Hugsnkisses,
Annie Jay

Navigating The Friend Zone

I spend my time in the company of many men.

Oh Jesus…that is not supposed to sound nearly so “I rent hotel rooms by the hour”. 

We’re off to a good start here.  *ahem*

So.  

Dudes - I hang out with a lot of them.  I like to play video games; talk about sci-fi and politics; and have a dark sense of humor - these are all things that I find more commonly in men than I do in women (please forgive me for making gender-biased generalizations).  

Plus, men are just nicer to look at ;-)

This is always how my life has been and it’s been pretty damn good for the most part.  But the problem with this is that at all times, there's almost always someone stuck in… drum roll please…

The Friend Zone

Those of you who have lived in some mythical fairyland where the people you lust after lust after you equally - or who have been happily married since you were five-years-old - might not really understand the consequences of being in The Friend Zone.  

The Friend Zone is that dreadful limbo where you are stranded after meeting the man/woman of your dreams.  You begin to fantasize about a life together - a life filled with shared XboxLive accounts; couples' vacations to Comi-Con; and finally living that Han Solo/Princess Leia fantasy.

But then reality sinks in and instead of falling passionately in love, you fall madly into a brotherly friendship where high fives are the closest you’re going to get to bumpin and grindin.

We’ve all been there.  Every single one of us has at one point or another been in The Friend Zone.  I think I can also say with confidence that we have all, at some time in our lives put someone in The Friend Zone. 

None of us enjoy being there but we all tolerate it. Why?

We tolerate it because being granted with the company of the object of our affections is better than being shunned by him/her altogether.  And we just know that time - sigh - time is all we need.  We'll keep plodding along with the “friendship”.  We'll keep dropping everything and everyone to spend five minutes with our Friend.  We just know that if we're able to keep up the “friendship” that one day the stars will align and he/she will realize the mad love he/she has for us after all!

Because that's the beauty of The Friend Zone; it's never really about the friendship, it's about hope.  It’s about the hope that one day they will see you the way you see them.

So we live on in this charade of "friendship" and continue to pine away; chipping away at our souls bit by bit each day.

We laugh awkwardly and smash TVs whenever they mention a new romantic interest.  We hope that one day they’ll be drunk enough to awkwardly make out with us and awaken the sexual tension that has been brewing for years.  When we are on vacation, we dream about the return flight and how they’ll be waiting at the gate for us with tears in their eyes and a sign that says “Friendship Isn’t Enough”. 

We’re waiting for that grand awakening moment.

STOP IT.

Just. 

Stop.

Waiting.

Whether or not that day ever comes, I can guarantee you that it will never happen if you just continue to hang on to your fantasy.  Maybe it’ll happen, maybe it won’t.  But sitting around, waiting for that person to finally come to their senses is only hurting you in the long run.  They aren’t ready to wake up and see the awesomesauce that is you.

But someone else is.

I can guarantee you that someone else out there right now is looking for the Princess Peach to their Mario.  But you’re not going to see them if you keep holding on to your fantasies about your Friend.

Get out of The Friend Zone and throw your hot ass back into the world of single, smart, beautiful people just waiting to throw you against the wall and have their way with you until Happily Ever After.

Much Love,

Annie Jay

PS – You really have no idea how many “hand job” jokes I had to edit out of this piece.  I’m trying to class this joint up.  You’re welcome.

It's a Beautiful Life

Well, hello there!

I've been a bit on the silent side of blog land lately.  Please rest assured, that it's actually for mostly good reasons.  I'm going to tell you all about them in a rambly, cloudy kind of way, so I hope you follow along ;-p

As you know, I moved. It was stressful at a time when stress was just about the only thing I had going on in my life. 

You may also be aware that I had a bit of a startling realization a few weeks ago.

Precisely two days later, I had an emotional breakdown in my doctor's office when I went in for a mostly routine exam.  

BTW - I'm spectacularly healthy, it turns out. I realize the timing of my disappearance and pending doctor's appointment was probably quite terrible to those I don't talk to all the time.  It appears my only health concern was my inability to productively deal with stress for the better part of the last two years.

That night, I talked to Francesca about it, and she helped to set my mind at ease.  If you don't have a Francesca, I implore you to please obtain one.  A level-headed BFF is just what every woman needs.  The next day, even though some things still hurt, I was feeling better about life in general.

Precisely four days after that was my birthday.  It being a Wednesday night, my actual birthday celebration was laid back - dinner with Mom and Dad, and visiting Francesca at the Rainbow with Bubbles and Mr. Tight Pants for a drink. That Friday night though, I cut loose and ended up having one of the best birthdays of my adult life - Just me and a group of friends, getting pizza and hitting up a couple of my favorite bars.  I woke up feeling like death, but very much loved.

And ever since then, life has been getting amazing.

See, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

I've been doing those things that I used to do but somehow lost along the way.  I've been taking pictures, I've been writing, I've been reading.  I've been walking and exploring - and allowing myself to hope again.  I've been working my ass off at work and have been feeling the rewards - I'm buzzing with anticipation for good things that I hope are on the horizon for me.

I do find myself worrying - after a year of depression and anxiety - is this all a lie?  I wrote about it to my lovely Gracie the other day.  I told her that the happiness I've been feeling lately scares me a little - is this happiness and peace just a lie?  I suppose it would be easy to see it that way if I tried to convince myself that happiness is a constant and forgot that life is ups and downs.  Happiness is attainable - but it will occasionally hide away.  I just hope I can hold on to it and enjoy it for a longer span of time right now.

So even though I'm afraid of losing the good feelings - losing the peace - I'm not going to let that fear take hold and keep me from enjoying the peace and happiness I'm feeling right now.

I'm even letting myself consider the idea of romance again.  And by that - I mean I think I'm ready for that dive in head first kind of romance that's illogical and painful and probably a bit dangerous but can be so incredibly beautiful that it makes the scary parts even seem less scary.

The other day when Herbert and I took a walk by the river, we got into deep conversations about love and expectations.  I realized how silly my last serious relationship had been - A year into the relationship, there were not only warning signs, but flashing DANGER lights that we'd both chosen to ignore because neither of us wanted to be the bad guy and finally end things.  After those lights started flashing, it took me two more years of diffidence before I got up the courage to finally do what had to be done.  

I definitely deserve to live my life with a passion deeper than mere resentful tolerance.

And I'm taking the same stance with other relationships in my life.  I've begun limiting my exposure to the relationships which do not bring out the best in me.  I know I have my fair share of blame in how things in my life turn out, but I don't need to punish myself by allowing in more negativity more than I have to.  I want to be the Sword of Gryffindor and take in only that which makes me stronger.

I feel like I forgot how to take action in the last year - like I forgot I had power within me to make things better.  But now, I have my ideas before me and I just need to keep taking action - keep focusing on things that are within my control and how I can improve them.

Is it just me, or does it feel like change is in the air?

Much much love,
Annie Jay


PS - Lately I've also been thinking a lot about Kanye West and how I want to help make the world a better place.  I realize those two topics may seem mutually exclusive, but I promise, I'll explain soon. xoxoxo

PPS - Yes, I love my new apartment.  Life just feels easier here and I feel safer - the building's on lock down and the hallways are littered with cameras - I haven't even taken my sword out of its sheath since I moved in.  I didn't even realize just how unsafe I used to feel  until I started regularly walking around the new apartment with all of the lights turned off and wouldn't even feel a tingle of anxiety.  Plus, I wake up and go to sleep every night, surrounded by beauty - you can't help but feel happier when the aesthetics are exactly what you need.

PPPS - I didn't title this post until just now.  Now I'm going to have to buy a new copy of Ace of Base's album The Bridge because the one I got 20ish years ago is beyond readable.  Maybe I should bump my Ace of Base addiction into the 21st century and go digital....

Can I Please Be That Girl Again?

Before I get into my actual post - I turn 28 in exactly one week.  When I mentioned this to my boss she said “30 is the new 20, so it’s like you’re turning 18!” 

I responded “Sweet! Time to pick up a smoking habit and start binge drinking on a daily basis!”

I guess I should just stick to 28 ;-)

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Oh, and also, thanks to my fantastically amazing parents I’m 100% done with the Barpartment.  I went from not having a single thing moved to having everything moved and having the place perfectly cleaned within 4 days.  I’ve gotta say that is the fastest I’ve ever done that – and hope to never have to do it that fast ever again!

At least now is the better part – the unpacking.  My kitchen, bedroom and bathroom have a pretty good start.  Now I just need to figure out how the heck I’m going to arrange the living/dining spaces so I can unpack all of the other boxes.  Stupid L shaped living/dining space!  You’re too awkward for how I want to arrange you!

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Ok, now for the real post -

As I said the other day, I was sick as hell last week.  I’m still not 100%, but I’m definitely more on the alive side of life than I was last week.

One thing about unexpectedly taking a week off of work is that you will suddenly find yourself in the midst of having nothing to do.  Plus, feeling like you’re wearing a cement body suit that doesn’t allow you to move or feel like a living human being also lends itself to having a lot of couch time.  Also, because the Barpartment was in such a state of chaos from my impending move, my bedroom was not a peaceful place, so most nights I fell asleep on my loveseat (which has now gone to furniture heaven).

So I did what I do, and I watched an ass-ton of Netflix while in the midst of a codine/NyQuil haze.

I watched at least one season of Star Trek the Next Generation.  I’ve been rewatching the series lately because I haven’t watched STTNG in earnest since I was a kid.  And I’ve finally gotten to the good seasons! If you’ve never watched STTNG but have a morbid curiousity about what this whole Star Trek phenomenon is all about, start on Season 3 or 4.  I won’t go into too much detail – if you want to read some awesome Trek reviews check out this awesome blog.

But because my drug-induced state wasn’t good for actual retention of information, I decided to put STTNG back on the (imaginary) shelf and I decided to rewatch Bones from the beginning. 

I’ve been a fan of this show for a few years now.  I love David Boreanaz (yes, because of Buffy and Angel) so when I first saw him acting in a new show I was totally on board.  I watched the first couple of seasons on Netflix a couple of years ago and have been following the latest episodes as they come out on Hulu+ ever since then.  But I wanted to start again from the beginning, so that’s what I did this last week.

Needless to say the show has been playing pretty much nonstop whenever I’m home.  Packing? Turn on the show.  Unpacking? Turn on the show.  Cleaning/sitting/doing laundry? Turn on the show.

I realized a couple of things when I was watching the show.

1. Bones kicks a lot of ass in the first few seasons.  I had forgotten how ass-kicky she used to be.  I kind of like it.

2. David Boreanaz is still freaking adorable sexy manliness.

3. Sickness, an excess of cough medicine and a wonky sleep schedule make me emotional when watching shows that get me in touch with my feelings.  Not like a “The world is shit and I am shit” kind of emotional, but a “That’s so deep and it’s so beautiful” kind of emotional.

4. I used to be Angela Montenegro – what happened to me?  Ok, ok, I was never a talented artist and my dad was never Billy Gibbons, but I used to be that kind-hearted free spirit.

As stupid as it sounds, the whole thing has got me reconsidering a lot about the way I’ve been living my life for the last year or so. 

Without getting into details, about a year ago I experienced a major life change.  In the long run, this change is definitely a positive thing, but because of what happened, I became a very defensive person.  I stopped letting myself feel things.  I stopped letting myself dream of better things, of a better way of life.  I stopped living my life for myself and started living it only to spite someone else. 

Yeah, that’s a pretty damn stupid way to live your life.

I need to get back to being the girl who will go and sit for hours outside and write or read – or who would at least pretend to do those things and get distracted people-watching instead. I need to get back to being the girl who would say yes to random invitations instead of staying home to be alone instead. I need to get back to being the girl who would feel things for the people around her instead of people the girl who was trying so hard to keep herself together that she couldn’t waste a moment ot ponder the emotions of anyone else.  I want to be the girl who isn’t afraid to love someone just because they might hurt her; I want to get back to being the girl who believes that even if something isn’t meant to be forever, it can be beautiful for a little while.

I want to be Angela Montenegro again.

Hopefully now that I’ve moved into a new place it will give me a new view of my life, free from the angst and negative energy that was associated with my old apartment.  It’s probably silly to place those hopes on a place, but I’m going to go ahead and be silly again, it’s what I would have done in the past.

Have you ever experienced anything like this?  Watched a show and identified so wholly with a character? Or have you ever looked in the mirror and wondered whose eyes were staring back at you?

Much love,

Annie Jay

The Tales of My Demise Are…Mostly Spot-On

In case you haven’t heard, I died last week.

At least it felt that way.

Although I had nowhere near the brush with death that Ash had last week (eegads!!) I felt like I was moments away from my first interview with the Grim Reaper. 

Influenza is a bitch.  Don’t get it.  It makes you feel like your arms and head and legs all want to be glued to the ground but your chest is all “We’ve gotta cough and jump and cough mothafuckaaaas!!”.

Influenza is a bitch especially when you are trying to finish packing for a move.

Thankfully, through the kindness and love of my amazing parents and wonderful friends, I was able to survive the week and get all moved into the new apartment.

I’ll be spending the next couple of days fully cleaning out the Barpartment, organizing (and perhaps naming? I’m up for suggestions!) the new homestead, and catching up on all of the blogs I missed last week in my DayQuil/NyQuil coma.

Hope you’re all doing splendidly!

Love and non-contagious kisses,

Annie Jay

Moving is Hard Work

Speaking of reupholstering furniture… Remember this post?

This is what my love looked like just a couple of weeks ago:

You're lookin' a little droopy there, gumdrop.

Well look at my baby now!

Damn girl, you are lookin fiiiiine!

Isn’t she lovely?  I did that on Saturday.  Now I just need to pay someone to make myself a double-welt cord to cover all of the trim and pay someone to sew a new cover for the bottom cushion and it’ll be all done!  My goal is to have the double-welt applied before the actual move on March 23^rd, but let’s be honest, that’s so not going to happen.

Why isn’t that going to happen?  Because in addition to packing up my entire collection of furniture, clothing and random items so that I can have everything moved out by March 23^rd (so I can clean the Barpartment and prepare for Natalia and the Penguin to move into in on March 30^th) I also have a ton of other things going on in the next 10 days!

This Saturday is my bestie, Foxxi’s, Bridal Shower and Bachelorette Party.  I’m very much looking forward to this!  We’re renting a (hopefully) fancy house in the beautiful Galena Territories and planning to drink our faces off, enjoy the hot tub and have altogether ridiculous girly times.  However, between making a cake, preparing all of the food (with assistance from Francesca and Prudence) and setting up for the event, my Friday, Saturday and most of Sunday will be taken up with non-moving related tasks. (and I have no idea what punctuation should be used to make that sentence grammatically correct so please stop judging me)

Then, next Thursday is Best Fest!  This annual fundraiser for the local hospice is not to be missed.  I’ve had my ticket for two months.  We go in and for three hours you get to sample the best food, drinks and products of the tri-state area – as much as you want.  From 5:30-8:30 next Thursday I will also be drinking my face off.  So again, not doing anything related to moving.  Friday morning/early afternoon will be spent recovering but then it’ll be down to business Friday night.

So, with all of this going on, I am going to have a total of 5 full night to pack everything.

HOLY SHIT.  *ahem* Ok, so that’s the first time I’ve really let that soak in. Deep breaths…deep breaths…

Monday night I started packing.  I filled one gigantic box full of books and realized it was too heavy for even Lou Ferrigno to carry down the flight of stairs out of the Barpartment so I gave up on packing for the night.  Because I’m responsible.

Last night, however, was much more successful! 

Yesterday morning I signed my new lease and got my key!  I can’t start moving things in until March 23 (and I can’t cheat because they have surveillance cameras everywhere – stupid secure building!) because my lease isn’t officially valid until April 1 and if I wanted to move in as of March 15 I could have for an additional half-month’s rent, which I just simply couldn’t afford.  But she told me I was free to go look around the place and take measurements, which is exactly what I did last night!  Natalia, Francesca and Han all went with me to get a glimpse at my new digs. 

And you know the good thing?  I still love it!  *Whew* That’s a relief.

So after the new apartment tour last night I sat down and got to work.  I got all of my books packed into reasonably sized boxes.  I also packed my shoes (minus a few pairs for the next week), DVDs, video games and all of my breakable décor.  Tonight I’m hoping to finish packing everything in my spare room, dining room, living room and bathroom (again, minus what I’ll need for the next 10 days).  That way I can get to work on my kitchen and bedroom over the next week, which are both bound to take a long time.

I’m trying to stay all Zen and not let the stress of moving get to me too much… but who am I kidding?  I thrive on stress!  If my head explodes and I never write here again, please remember how brilliant I think you all are and that my favorite flowers (for the funeral, duh) are calla lilies.  And I like pandas, please bury me with a panda.

Hugsnkisses,

Annie Jay

Because We All Know Tomorrow Never Comes

I’m really quite terrible at being an adult and doing things that seem like second-nature to other responsible adults. 

Things like laundry and dishes.

And vacuuming.

And showering.

I have video games to play, beer to drink, Netflix to watch and friends to high-five, all right?

It all comes down to procrastination for me.  I procrastinate doing housework and say I’ll do it later, or “Tomorrow”.

As any good procrastinator knows, eventually, all of those things you’ve been putting off build up to the point that eventually you have to spend an entire day or weekend or month or decade setting things right.

The thing about procrastination is that putting off what I need to do doesn’t actually ease the underlying anxiety (no matter how slight) I feel about needing to get it done.  This makes way for a whole new slew of negativity to wash through my brain.  Whenever I’m putting something off, the entire time I’m doing whatever I’ve decided to do instead, in the back of my mind is that angry voice saying “Hey, Stinky! You should be doing the dishes instead of killing Templars!”

The angry voice gets even worse when I realize I’ve been procrastinating doing things that propel my life closer to the “grown-up” life I want to lead.  I’m talking about things like improving my skill at piano, getting a degree, learning to balance my budget, exercising, eating healthy, taking a political stand, helping friends, building a family – I keep procrastinating doing things that can help me to further who I am and really love the life I lead.

When I procrastinate these important things, my negative self-talk gets worse and I stop believing that I am worthy of living a life I can love and be proud of.  I stop believing that everyone has the right to live a good life and I start believing that happiness just isn’t in the cards for me. 

When I’m on top of my game, I know this isn’t the case.  When I’m on top of my game, I know that I am in control of my destiny. I remember the old saying: “If you’re looking for a helping hand, take a look at the one at the end of your own arm.”  I remember that I am the one who is putting off doing things that will make me happier.

Several months ago I started a new system.  It was that every day I would do at least one thing to encourage my personal growth.  I was sitting at home, watching Netflix (Doctor Who, so really, it was kind of like I was helping my personal growth) and those negative voices in the back of my head were keeping me from enjoying David Tennant’s gangly awesomeness. 

That was when I finally figured it out: If all I do is put off doing things that are good for me, I’ll never enjoy my relaxation time.  And I really love my relaxation time.

So now, when I get home from work, I make sure that before I just settle in with a video game or a Netflix marathon that I do something that helps me to grow.  It might be something as simple as jogging in place while I watch an episode of HIMYM.  Or I might practice painting something new.  Or I might just finally breakdown and do the damn dishes. 

But by always doing at least one thing to help myself grow as a person, I’m bringing more positivity into my life and I’m enjoying my relaxation time guilt-free.

You are in control of your destiny too.  What have you been putting off that will help you feel better about the direction your life is heading?

Much love,

Annie Jay


UPDATED: Just wanted to add - the exercising in front of the TV thing came from this link.  Definitely worth checking out for some new exercises to try out in lots of different situations!

Sniffle Sniffle

I’m sick.  I hate being sick.

If you’re following me on Twitter you know that today was the first time I’d left the barpartment in days.  I don’t think I’ve even looked out a window since Sunday afternoon.

I guess getting sick couldn’t have come at a better time.  It’s the beginning of the year, which means all of my sick time at work is restored so my pocketbook won’t be hurting from missing two days of work.

But my email count at work is definitely hurting.  I came in today to 371 emails in my inbox waiting for me to do stuff.  And a new boss. 

I expected the emails and had an inkling that the new boss would be here today as well.  But it’s definitely a good thing that my motto whenever I’ve been off sick is to “Look the way you wish you feel”.  Meaning I actually woke up early enough to sneeze and cough my way through the better-than-usual get ready routine.  My hair is done, I put on make-up and a fancier than usual business outfit.  I always try to trick my body into feeling better by looking better than I feel.

It works.  Sometimes.

Today is not one of those days.  But at least I was able to introduce myself to the new boss this morning with a confident handshake and enough sparkle in my eyes to convey that “I’m a winner!” attitude I wanted him to see.  Then I went back to my desk and sneezed and coughed my face off.

In order to power through the pain I’m working my butt off, getting done with lots of projects that I’ve been meaning to get through for months.  This was already my plan for Monday (but I was sick) because it goes along with my goal that I talked about in last Friday’s blog – to actually accomplish things and not just try to get through the monotony.

Even though I’ve been sick I’ve been trying to keep that goal in front of me – do things that make you happy and feel accomplished, don’t just breeze through the days.

In the last couple of days that I’ve been home – when I wasn’t sleeping in a Nyquil-coma – I was reading and writing.  Ok, and I was watching Grey’s Anatomy on Netflix.  Don’t judge me.

I started reading Tom Brokaw’s book The Time of Our Lives.  I bought this book over a year ago and never got around to reading it.  It’s been a little slow-going what with the Dayquil/Nyquil haze I’ve had going on but it’s thought-provoking and makes me have hope for the US again.

I also tried to sort out some of the details of the story I’ve been writing.  It’s a post-apocalyptic sci-fi/fantasy story I’ve been working on for over a year.  It all started with a dream I had that featured a desolate landscape, a racing heart and a run-down warehouse with metallic blinds.  Like most dreams it was just a lot of feelings and flickers of images - not a lot to build a story from.  It’s been an interesting process, building this world and these characters, but I’m in love with my two main characters and the world they live in is starting to make more sense.  When I get the details sorted out once and for all I might post an excerpt on here.

Saturday night, I got up the gumption to contact a friend of a mutual friend to ask him if he and his boyfriend wanted to go out for drinks with me.  (For the purposes of this blog, they've asked me to call them Bubbles and Mr. Tightpants.) They came out and we had a great time together.  It was great feeling like that take-charge person again and it was wonderful getting to know these boys a lot better.

So I’m staying on the right track.  Now, if only my immune system would get itself in gear!

Much love,

Annie Jay

Step 1

I know a lot of people (yes, Mom, I’m talking about you) don’t understand why I called this blog The Grow-Up Plan.  If you’re a frequent reader you know that I typically write about drunken mishaps, failures in love and just sheer randomness. Sure, occasionally I’ll throw in some positive life advice for everyone, but that stuff is few and far between.

The reason I’ve named this blog The Grow-Up Plan, is because that’s what I’m trying to do.  I’m trying to learn who I am as an adult while simultaneously holding onto the whimsical, irresponsible side of my personality.  It’s just that sometimes, that’s the only side I listen to.

If I’m going to be completely honest, I have no idea what I'm doing.

I bet you've probably figured that out by now though, huh?

My ideas of how to navigate the waters of life aren’t any better than anyone else’s, and really, if you were hoping I’d be your savior who could point you to Happily Ever After, I suspect you’ve instead ended up with a drinking problem and possibly an STD or five. 

Sorry about that.

But I digress…

2012 was one of the roughest years of my adult life.  I've been floating in a state of limbo for the last nine or ten months and I think I’ve just figured that out in the last couple of weeks. 

The first step is admitting you have a problem, right?

I keep reaching out, lashing out, stomping out - doing different things outside of myself, but somehow also pulling back, pulling myself in.  I'm sure that doesn't make sense, but I can't find any other way to say what I mean.

You know how people send those "Here are all of the awesome things we did this year!" letters with Christmas cards?  My parents have never really been the type to send those, and I'm not the kind of person to send Christmas cards, period.  But this year, I found myself wishing I had done enough stuff to warrant a "My year was awesome!" letter.

Why did I care?  These kinds of things have never mattered to me.

But I’ve finally figured it out – I’m feeling that way because I've been so lost, looking back, looking in, looking out - at everything that was just so wrong.  Like the kid who's teased by his older siblings and becomes the schoolyard bully for lack of anything else to do with all of that pain, I was hoping for something to show off.  I was hoping for some kind of bandaid to put over all of this listlessness and loneliness that would sparkle and make the world think I'd finally arrived.

Fucking hell, have I really become that person?

No.  I'm not that person.

Earlier today I was doing the dishes and I had a revelation.  You know how a while ago I wrote about Confidence Girl?  She is great, she really is.  

The problem with Confidence Girl?  She used to just be called Annie Jay.

I mean – goddamn – I hope this doesn’t sound too arrogant, but…

Annie Jay is a fucking badass, awesome chick.

I don't need some gimmick to make me feel strong and confident.  

I am those things.

But somewhere along the way, I forgot.  Somewhere along the way, I lost those feelings.  But now that I've remembered what was lost, I think I'll have a much easier time.

I’ve been spending so much time just killing time.  I’m so done with that. 

I’m going to start this weekend.  This weekend I will do things that make me happy and not just try to pass time and end the monotony. 

I’m going to get back to being the girl who focuses only on the positive and stop living in this land of negativity I’ve secluded myself within.  I’m going to get back to being the leader I once was.  I’m going to get back to being the active person I used to be.

I’m going to remember that I am the girl who got two black eyes when drunkenly walking into a street lamp on a company trip and got a promotion the next week.  That’s the kind of presence I have and I won’t let myself forget it again.

I’m maafuckin Annie Jay and I’m not about to let myself forget it again.

Kissykisses,

Anniy Jay

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

I think I mentioned it earlier this week –

I LOVE THE HOLIDAY SEASON!

Tonight is my company Christmas Party and I’m totally amped.  I’m taking my partner in crime and potential future baby-daddy, Han.  Every single girl needs a platonic friend to be arm-candy for her when events come to call.  And he makes damn good arm-candy. 

I’m wearing a silky, one shoulder, knee-length dress that poofs out at the bottom in a black/silver/purple/white print with a sparkly blazer over top.  None of the sweaters or shrugs I had with it so I’m going to go a little funky with the blazer instead.  I still can’t wear heels because of my injured ankle, so I’ll be wearing my black sparkly sandals.  Other than those, I’m excited about my outfit.

I also made a new multi-strand sparkly necklace and set of earrings to wear tonight.  My hair is going to be barrel curled into my favorite fun and flirty look.  I opted not to color it, even though my (oh so numerous!) grays are showing through quite a bit.  I’m not sure why but I’ve kind of been enjoying the gray hairs lately.  (Who wants to bet that I’ll be over them and color my hair before New Year’s?) 

We also got our Christmas bonuses today! As the hours started ticking on I was a little afraid that maybe we’d be getting Griswolded this year, but our VP came around and delivered them to us with a smile on his face.  Twas wonderful!

This weekend I’m going to be doing all of my Christmas shopping.  For the most part, I’m going to do as much of it at locally-owned stores as I can.  Gotta support my community!  Now I just have to figure out what to get my parents and my brother.

I’m also going to finally get a fish this weekend.  I’ve had the fish tank set up for three weeks now and my tank desperately needs some fishies.  Time for me to commit to what kind of fish I want. 

But anyway – this post is about Christmas!  So, here are some things that I’m planning to do or have already done to ring in the season:

Holiday Baking!  My best girls and I already did our one-day Christmas baking extravaganza.  My treats were well-loved by my coworkers and disappeared in the span of just a few hours.  I have also made some mint oreo balls and plan to make pizzelles and fudge yet this year for my family Christmas.

Holiday Decorating!  I started to put my decorations up the date after Thanksgiving and was all done by the Monday after.  There are so many decorations all around my apartment, it’s so blissfully cheerful every day.  Here are a few of my favorite things:

RAWR!

I decorated it all on my own!

Because every tree needs a robot.

 Snow!  Mother Nature gave us some snow last weekend and I reveled in it.  Now, it’s all melted but I’m holding out hope that next week we get a ton of it.  I want a foot of snow in one night.  There’s nothing I love more than walking on the quiet city streets during a snowfall, listening to Christmas music.  Which brings me to…

Christmas Music!  I said it earlier this week that I’ve pretty much only been listening to Christmas music since Thanksgiving came and went.  But what I’m most excited for is Christmas eve and Christmas day listening to The Carpenters Christmas Portrait with my family when we celebrate.  I don’t think there’s ever been a better Christmas album.

Festivus! Every year on the night of December 23, my friends and I celebrate Festivus in the grandest tradition of the day!  With copious amounts of alcohol, the airing of grievances, feats of strength, ugly Christmas sweaters, holiday chanting and stumbling home at 4am to sleep for a few hours before family time begins the next day.

Christmas Eve!  Even though I live in the same town as my parents, I always stay at their house on Christmas Eve.  My brother, Clockwork, will be in town and we’ll be traveling to my Grandfather’s house that night to celebrate with my mom’s side of the family.  Then Clockwork and I will stay up late wrapping Christmas presents, watching Red Dwarf and giggling like 12-year olds.

Christmas Day!  Need I say more?  Mom, Dad, Clocky and I will be exchanging gifts, most likely early in the day, then heading to my aunt’s house for a nice lunch with some more family.  That night, if all goes according to plan, my former roomie and I will be drinking vodka and having a slumber party at the barpartment and staying up until 4am playing Kinect and acting like 12-year olds.  Christmas is pretty much the best time to act like a 12-year old.

New Year’s Eve -  UMM.  Hey, kids, what are we doing on New Year’s Eve? 

I hope you all have a fabulous Holiday Season too!  I’m sure I’ll be blogging more in the next couple of weeks but probably not quite as heavily as I have been lately.

Happy Holidays!

Annie Jay

P.S. – Can you tell I’ve had a lot of caffeine today?

P.P.S. – Can you tell I’ve been playing on Instagram?  Check me out.

P.P.P.S – Love me.

Although There's Snow On the Ground, the Grass is Awfully Green Today

I’m feeling light today - like I could fly up into the air and soar across the sky.  (And use overused similes))

Not just because I started talking to a new boy.  Yes, I put my dating pants on the shelf for a little while… and then they fell off that shelf and I put them on again.  I’ve never been very good at holding myself back.  …Unless it comes to commitment, in which case, I’m really good at holding myself back.

So I have a date Wednesday night. I have all kinds of thoughts (positive, apprehensive, indifferent…) about that but I don’t really want to talk about them just this moment.  I’ll report back after the date.

Anyway, I’m feeling good.

Why this sudden change?  I guess that my chemicals and what not are just balancing better this week.

Or because we FINALLY got some snow!  I love snow.  Love it love it love it.  I could never live in a place that doesn’t have seasons.

Or because I’m just feeling the love.

For one thing – I flipping LOVE the Holiday season.  I never listen to the radio (I listen to my CDs or mp3s instead) but for the last week my car and kitchen radios have been tuned to the station that plays Christmas music all day everyday.  My house looks festive and warm.  In short, I’m in Holiday Heaven.

And my coworkers are fabulous.  We have such a great dynamic in our department right now.  Everyone is getting along.  Everyone is pulling their own weight and helping out everyone else.  From past experience, I know these times come in waves.  Sometimes our team dynamic sucks, other times it’s great - It just makes me appreciate the great times all the more.

I also have amazing friends to thank for my happiness.  Friends like Francesca and Han, who understand the value of just providing another friend with company – without expecting them to be entertaining in the process.  Friends like Mac who are reliable and always there to rescue you when you’re in need.  Friends who like to do silly things that people our age shouldn’t do anymore.  Friends who like to do grown-up things that are way beyond our years.

So today, I’m feeling the love.

I hope you’re feeling the love too.

Hugsnkisses,

Annie Jay