Telling someone

2014 is the year of just saying it so here goes: I'm not doing so great inside lately. I feel like everyone and everything in my life is kind enough to acknowledge that I'm there but nowhere am I important. My entire life has been packed away in boxes for nearly five years since I moved home from Oklahoma, and I have no idea if I'm ever going to be able to unpack it because I live in a city where I'd be spending nearly all my income just to live. It makes me feel like my entire life is on hold, and I'm not a real person until I can unpack all those things again. I love my job - if you didn't know that, you must live under a rock - but working at a desk in the hall is wearing on me. We're working on this and after experiencing the exact opposite at the magazine, I'm SO grateful to work with and for people who listen to my frustrations and are supportive...but it feels like we're fighting an uphill battle to convince people further up the chain of command that, at the very least, I need a cubicle so I have walls and a space of my own where I can sit and better focus on the job I love doing. (How can they not understand that I don't even have a work space? Just a desk.) And it feels like everyone I know has, to quote Meredith Grey, "their person" - someone they can go to whose sole purpose is to listen to their stories or their venting and not judge (even if they think the person is being silly or stupid) but be supportive and hug them and assure them their life is on track and everything will be fine...and I have no idea who that is in my life. There's different people I talk to about different things, but there's no one person who is "my person". No one person who says, 'Hey, you're the most important person in my life, you can tell me everything and I'll listen.'

I don't say all this for pity or to make anyone feel bad like they're not living up to being a good friend or family member or anything. In fact, I can find reasons for and faults with every single one of these things and how I have, in some way, caused each of these to happen. Most days, it just is what it is, and I can let it go - I ultimately know it's all my fault because I caused it or let it happen, and only I can fix it. I'm working on it.

But sometimes you just feel bad and alone and like you're never going to be important. And instead of sitting on your bedroom floor, sobbing your heart out like you haven't in years or hanging on to all of it inside for another day, week, month, year because you think it's silly or stupid and not worth saying out loud...you just need to tell someone.

Heartland.

I've been glued to the news since 3 p.m. yesterday afternoon when a coworker hesitantly asked, "Um...do you know anyone in Moore, Oklahoma?"

And since then, everyone keeps asking...why would you live in a place that's been struck by tornadoes multiple times? Why would you put yourself in harm's way and submit yourself to the potential heartache of losing everything? And why, oh why, when it's all said and done...do you come back?

I might be a born Texan, and I might have only lived in Oklahoma for five years...but I learned something about that state when I was there.

Oklahomans don't give up. 

Ever.

If you think about Oklahoma City, the news probably makes you believe a lot of bad things happen there. Building are blown up for no good reason. Tornadoes with the highest winds ever recorded on the Earth's surface occur there, destroying lives and killing those in its path. Then they come back and tear everything to shreds again. Hell, the state literally blew away in the 1930s.

And every time it gets hit Oklahoma might sit for a moment, stunned by what's just transpired...but then it picks itself back up, dusts itself off and gets right to work fixing everything so life can go back to normal.

Why do they do it? How can they do it?

Because Oklahoma - and Oklahoma City in particular - is the very heart of this country.

Look at it on a map. No other city is so dead center in the United States with highways flowing through it in every direction like arteries connecting it to its body. OKC has to be strong because it's our heart - and if our heart fails...

I have two friends in particular in Oklahoma - one who just barely escaped having her whole life decimated yesterday - that I think about when wondering about the tenacity and strength of that state. These two girls taught me more about being resilient (and just when I needed it most) than they'll ever know simply by being them, the product of their home. 

Oklahomans, whether born or bred, are built a little bit different from the rest of us. Their skin is a little bit thicker, their hearts a little bigger and their ability to stare down disaster and dare it to strike them twice unparalleled. They don't scare or back down that easy. They don't give up without a fight.

You wouldn't want your heart to give up that easy, would you?

One week.

A little more than a week ago, I was holed up in a Tulsa coffee shop on a cold, foggy morning trying to hold myself together because I didn't want to leave behind that city I love so much yet again.

It's amazing how much perspective you can gain in just a week.

That's not to say I've changed my mind about anything I felt last Monday morning...I think I'd still rather be tucked away in a magical city no one gives a second thought than just trying to get through a day in the fourth largest city in the country. But I've realized a lot of what I feel for Tulsa I can feel here. And in very simple ways.

I love that city because it feels like mine. I know all its secrets, good and bad. I know it inside and out - and Houston is just too damn big for that. I'll never know it like I know Tulsa.

But I kept thinking about it all week - what makes that one city so special? Sure, there's tons of local coffee shops, restaurants and boutiques...enough to keep a girl busy and wandering for at least a year's worth of weekends, if not more. It's quiet and unassuming - has big city and small town charm.

And it also symbolizes independence for me, which is why it has such a hold on my heart. I went there knowing no one, and I conquered. I felt at home there in a way that I know I'll never feel for Houston.

Then my life got derailed, I didn't try hard enough to stay, and I moved back home to live with my parents. I've been here four years, and though I am beyond forever grateful to have parents who were willing to let me invade their empty nest space...I need to be back on my own again. I'm ready to have my own space, do my own laundry, make my own dinner...I'm ready to get back to that independence. It sounds so silly when I write it down like that, but it makes all the difference.

I might not like Houston nearly as much as Tulsa, but I have faith I can create that sense of independence here. I can find a place to live - in town or inner suburbs, I'm still debating. I can find a cute coffee shop to live by where I can go write, be a touch closer to music venues, decorate my walls however I want.

It might not be Tulsa, but my life is here in Houston and I can't leave it all behind.

I can't wait to rediscover that independence.

Home, let me come home...

I should probably be in a car headed back to Houston right now, hightailing it away from this gloomy, cold
weather we've dealt with all weekend. Instead, I'm tucked away in the back corner of Coffee House on Cherry Street in Tulsa...savoring a few more precious hours in this city I love.

On this trip I wanted to come here for the sake of research - in the book I want to write, my main character works at a cute little coffee shop in Tulsa...and though I never actually stepped foot inside this place during my five years in this town, this was the spot I picked for my inspiration. So I figured if I had some extra time this morning, I'd come plant myself in a chair, make some notes and maybe, hopefully rejuvenate my need to tell this story.

Yup. That was the original plan. But now? Now I'm here because I can't bring myself to be pulled away from this place yet.

There's a certain magic in this city that goes beyond my love for a library or a silly little band that resides here. There's an energy and excitement I haven't found anywhere in Houston. I felt it when I first moved here - every day was an exciting new adventure. I sat in on a writer's group whose membership included S.E. Hinton. I met a girl who knew that silly little band, gave me music no one was supposed to have and introduced me to them. I wrote a lot of beautiful flash fiction to capture the moments of life that mattered in my world. It was all happening.

Remembering that magic brought me to tears Saturday night as I sat on a couch at Dwelling Spaces, flipping through yet another Tulsa publication I picked up over the weekend. There's so many people here just doing their own, artistic thing - and it has room to grow here. No one is shutting it down or ignoring it or saying it's stupid. Everyone has a chance to create.

I miss that. I don't have that. I want that.

I want to be able to pick up everything and head to one of this city's many, many amazing coffee shops (I'm on fantastic latte #3 of my extended weekend) to sit and write and feel connected to a muse - any muse at this point, I don't care. I miss that excitement of creativity.

So how do I get it back? I don't know just yet. And I know I can't sit around and wait for a chance to move back here to feel that creativity...because I simply do NOT feel that in Houston. Which is hard because just about everyone I love lives in Houston. So what wins out? Creative needs or personal needs? If I'm going to do any of what I want to, creative has to win that battle. I know that - but I'm not quite ready for that yet.

So I guess my best option for the moment is to absorb Tulsa's magic as much as possible when I'm here - through the food and music and cute boutiques and vibe of the city.

I need to remember what it felt like: standing on those library steps and feeling infinite - like everything was possible, nothing was silly or too far out of reach; walking into Cain's for the first time and feeling like I'm home; discovering new restaurants unique to Tulsa that I couldn't wait to share with my family on their next visit; sitting at Shades of Brown, reading books and writing in journals.

And then I have keep writing about it all so I don't lose the feeling until I can find a way to get back here.

Happy Birthday to...me.

Today I turn 29 and for some reason this age feels like a milestone to me. I guess because if you think about
it, technically today launches me into my 30th year of life - and 30 is a milestone birthday.

But I think it's also because there was a time I couldn't even foresee being this age, much less what my life would be like. It seemed far off, unattainable, impossible even.

Yet here I am.

It’s been a crazy decade. Just a few months after turning 20, I moved away from everything I knew, everyone I loved, to go live in a city where I knew no one. I thought I might be crazy for doing it. I spent the entire summer before awash in self-doubt and second guessing my life-altering decision.

But in the end? It was the best decision I’ve ever made for myself and led me to learn so much about who I am, who I wanted to be and – perhaps most importantly – who I didn’t want to be.

I am: quiet, soft spoken, big-hearted (to a fault, sometimes), eager to please and observant. I let people make me feel bad for being a number of these things because it didn’t make me a strong person. But I realized not everyone needs to be loud, outgoing and the best at everything. The world needs people to sit back, observe and give us insight on how it works. I’d much rather be the quiet one in the corner than the loud one talking just to fill the silence.

I wanted to be: a published writer, a “good” groupie, an independent woman who could take care of herself and maybe someday a girlfriend/wife/mother. Some of these I’ve accomplished in pieces, but I’m still working on all of them. Now instead of just being a published writer, I want to redefine the rock novel. Instead of just being a good groupie, I want to be The Good Groupie. I think it’s pretty cool how these things evolve and your goals grow bigger as you realize you can do it.

I don’t want to be: overbearing, manipulative, uncompromising, inconsiderate, a bad listener or just flat out mean. No one is perfect. We all have our moments when we are these things, whether we like it or not. But I try my very best not to be these things because they are ugly characteristics I see in others and dislike.

So as my 30th year of life starts, I feel like I have a pretty good handle on me. I know who I am and what I want from life – and I’m working towards it. That’s what your 20s are all about, right?

If so, mission accomplished. Let’s celebrate and get on to the challenge of turning 30 in 365 days!

Today is The Day

Today is The Day.

For someone out there, this is the day that changes everything. As you watch a TV screen, read a Tweet or hear it from a friend, it's the day that means your world will never be the same again.

Because you realize how horrifically evil humans can be to one another. You realize there are terrible people out there who do awful things to purposely hurt others, often without reason or rhyme. You realize you're never safe because monsters will lurk into the shadows of your world and will completely destroy it when you least expect it.

I hate that for someone out there, today is The Day.

My Day was September 11, 2011. When my anatomy and physiology teacher first told us the news, I laughed. In hindsight, I know it was an absolutely awful gut reaction, but yes. I let out a small chuckle that morning. Because who could be blind enough to accidentally fly into the top of a huge building in New York City, much less crazy enough to do so purposely? Surely my teacher was making it up.

But he wasn't. And the rest of that class period I felt myself slipping further and further away from something. A news junkie since age 13, all I could do when I came home from school each day that week was sit and watch the news and cry. I couldn't understand how a person could have so much hatred in their heart that they would be willing to do such a horrible thing. I'm still not sure I understand. In fact, after December 14, 2012 I know I don't.

That something I felt slipping away from me? I realize now that was the week, the day, the moment I went from being a child living in this world, dreaming of changing it with my writing and knowing perfection was a possibility to becoming a young woman who realized there's no such thing as perfection because sometimes bad things happen and you can't explain or change them. It's just a part of life.

That day changed how I saw the world and my understanding of my place in it.

That day was The Day.

And that's what I think of every time something horrible happens for no apparent reason. That for someone out there, today is Their Day. It's the day that changes their world and makes them see it a little more clearly - for better or worse.

We should be able to do better than this. Can't we do better than this?

Girly TV Madness

My coworker Joanne listens to Cosmo Radio on Sirius on a pretty regular basis. She came up to my desk this morning and handed me this: the Girly TV Madness bracket. Forget March Madness, I'll take TV shows over basketball any day.

I filled mine out, and after you see ALL the shows listed...you'll probably be surprised by what won my bracket. It's not the show you'd expect. You can either save the image above or go here to download/print your own. I'd be interested to know what show wins everyone else's brackets. (I'll share mine soon.) You can also head over to the show's (Cocktails with Patrick) Facebook page to participate in the listener voting each day.

That's all for now - back to work and overplaying the new JT album.

Houston Public Library book sale

Yesterday I stopped by the Houston Public Library's annual book sale - they get rid of all the extra or worn out books in their libraries inventory...and if you go on Sunday morning of the sale, everything you can fit in a brown paper shopping bag is $10.

It's pretty awesome. But it's also a lot of sorting through 10,000 Danielle Steele and Nora Roberts novels to find those rare gems you might never have come across otherwise.

I didn't find quite as many gems this time around, but I still had a full bag and decent haul. A few music books, lots of new fiction. All in all, worth the trip, time and $10 - plus is supports the library.

I always seem to have a theme when I go bargain book shopping. Yesterday's? Books set in the 50s, 60s & 70s.

Here's what I scored:

Fiction
Scoop by Kit Frazier
London Calling by Deborah Grabien
The Seance by John Harwood
Purple Daze by Sherry Shahan
The Man Who Would be F. Scott Fitzgerald & The Woman Who Fell From Grace by David Handler
Scrapped Princess by Ichiro Sakaki
The Unquiet Night by Patricia Carlton
The Red Devil Battery Sign by Tennessee Williams
Bergdorf Blondes by Plum Sykes (my obligatory chick lit purchase...)
The Ruins of California by Martha Sherrill
Hotel No Tell by Dahne Uviller
Town House by Tish Cohen
The Muse Asylum by David Czuchlewski


Nonfiction
Inventing Late Night: Steve Allen and the Original Tonight Show by Ben Alba
On Record: Rock, Pop and the Written Word - ed. Simon Frith and Andrew Goodwin
The Show I'll Never Forget - ed. Sean Manning

Communications Manager Day

Friday at work was "Communications Manager Day" - hey, that's ME! And this is the awesomely amazing bag I got my cookies in. It pays to bond over Harry Potter with people, guys. Seriously.

And okay, so this isn't a real holiday or anything...back in October when we had a little celebration for Bosses Day, our CMDO said we should all have days...so our admin assistant abided and drew up a calendar with days for everyone - from PR Manager to Data Researcher Day, we got one for everyone!

Just another reason why I love my job - we have fun. A lot of fun. Maybe too much fun...

Veronica Mars is going to be a movie - YAY!

The days keep flying by and I find myself thinking "Oh, I should blog about that." And then I never do. Between work, after-hours meetings and keeping up with The Good Groupie on a regular basis, there's not much time left in my days lately for leisure blogging. (Is that what this is?) 

But I wanted to make time for this. Last week, Rob Thomas announced a Kickstarter campaign to make a Veronica Mars movie. I was beyond thrilled and quickly donated my $50 to the project, which will get me a copy of the shooting script, T-shirt, early download and a copy of the movie with exclusive extras. (I only wish I had $750 lying around to throw at the Austin premiere party level...) 

The project hit its $2 million mark in less than 24 hours - and is almost to $4 million just one week in. I love things like Kickstarter and Pledge Music, and I donate to projects whenever I can. It's really cool what just a few bucks from a lot of people can do when it comes to art.

If you're a fellow Marshmallow, I hope you'll check it out and donate too if you haven't already. The deadline is Friday, April 12 - yeah, they hit their goal and the movie has been given the green light...but every extra dollar helps. Check out the video about the project here:

Perspective

It hasn't been the easiest of weeks when it comes to thoughts racing through my head. I wish I could write everything down like I used to. Instead it all stays locked away...which is probably for the best. There are more grown-up aspects of writing your thoughts down for the Internet to read to consider these days.

But I will say this: it is amazing how much your life can change in just 10 years. (Or maybe not, depending on how you measure time...) In 2003, I was just barely in college, just barely discovering myself. It was one of my worst years when it came to anxiety and how I dealt with it. I let my happiness be determined by others. I could only hope that one day I could say I was a writer, much less have anything published for real instead of writing endless blog entries of fiction and life two people read.

Now? I've worked for publications and experienced television - something I never imagined I'd do. I fulfilled my dream of interviewing my favorite band. (Still one of my favorite pieces I've ever written.) After having it all, having nothing and having a little bit of something, I finally feel like I have it all when it comes to career. I'm back on track and excited to find where it all leads. I have a blog to call my own and a reason to chase after the one thing that's always made me happy: music.

I think back to those nights I felt so alone, back to the afternoons when panic attacks ruled my life. I think back to not letting friends in and feeling like I had no clue what I was trying to do with my life. It might some hyperbolic, but I'm just so glad I survived it all. Because life got so much better. SO much better.

And not everyone can see that.

After this week, I'm so grateful I did.

Happiness is a just a step away...

weheartit.com

The other day in the middle of Houston traffic hell, I realized something: I'm happy.

Not like running wild, screaming happy. Just that nice, quiet, content kind of happy. As of today, I've been back with the organization I work for, for one year. At the start of this year, I was made full-time there. (And in just one more week, I'll have health insurance again - amazing the things you get excited about as an adult.) Though sometimes (okay, most times) I feel very young compared to everyone in my department and worry I come off that way 99% of the time, I love where I am. I love what I do. I love why I do it. Work makes me happy. I haven't been able to say that since 2008.

At the end of last year, I quietly started my music blog again - testing the waters, seeing what types of posts I liked. It's been hard for me to break the idea that not everything has to be a long, drawn out entry. Sometimes a few sentences suffice - sometimes even just a photo. In just two months this year (and February isn't even over!) I've managed to rack up half the posts I wrote last year, total. I redesigned the entire thing and looking at that blog makes me excited. I feel like I finally found its look and, more importantly, its purpose.

Those two things occupy most of time, which is fine by me. Sometimes I wonder if I should worry more, at nearly 29, about the severe lack of men in my life. I worry it I keep thinking "I'm not there yet, I'm not ready to worry about that..." that I'll become a broken record and it will never happen. Then again, I don't want to meet some schmuck in a bar just for the sake of it. It's a catch 22. But only having me to answer to makes life pretty simple. I'm okay with that part.

So for now I'll continue to fill in the gaps with concerts and books and binge-viewing TV shows and planning road trips to see my favorite bands and figuring out how the hell I'm going to use up 17.5 vacation days I have left. I'll throw in some more adult things like buying a car for the first time (by my birthday? maybe?) and hopefully moving into an apartment before the end of the year just to keep things interesting.

But for now? It's nice to be happy.

The Help

 I was home sick with the flu last week. For most people, being home sick means lots of movies and TV. For me, it's always meant time to read books.

I'm already on my fourth book of the year thanks to last week. I finished the third Nikki Heat/Castle book (my one word review: eh) and decided I should finally read "The Help" - mostly so I can return it to the friend I borrowed it from and get back the books she borrowed in return.

About 10 pages in, I started wondering why in the WORLD I waited so dang long to read this gem. I'm always a year ahead or two years behind the curve when it comes to what's trendy reading. I remember my mom flying through this book when she read it in anticipation of seeing the movie.

I did the same. I couldn't put it down. Aibileen, Minny and Skeeter were such compelling storytellers, and though I could not accurately gauge for you whether their voices were legitimate in the troubled South at the height of the Civil Rights Movement, I can tell you this - they made me want to soak in every last word and keep reading to find out what happened to them. They reminded me why I love southern literature so much.

They became my friends.

I'm a third of the way through my next book, but I'm still thinking about these women. I feel like I haven't left Jackson yet. It's one of those books that sticks with you. I can't wait to read it again.

My life lately...

Life lately according to my photos. Lots of good food, friends and football!

Fizzies Taste Test!

For Christmas, Santa left my brother, sister-in-law and I some fun retro candies in our stockings. Charms. Fizzies. Zotz, which are my personal fave. On Christmas night we decided to do a little taste test of Fizzies - an "instant sparkling drink!" Here's the results.

We followed the directions VERY closely.

First we tossed - yes, TOSSED as shown in the directions - our Fizzie tablets into eight ounces of water.

Then we carefully watched the Fizzies at counter-level. Here's an extremely exciting video of me tossing my Fizzies tablet in to my cup and watching as it fizzes:

They're DONE!

Enjoying! Justin had Blue Razz, Stacey had Cherry and I had Root Beer. Justin gave them one shrug and chugged his AND Stacey's.

Stacey and I on the other hand had very similar reactions. (And Stacey asks me to remove this picture in 3...2...1...) All three tasted pretty watered down and kind of metallic-y.

Verdict: taste definitely did not measure up to the novelty...but still fun to test out together.

Elf on the Shelf

So a few days into December I came home from work, went upstairs to my bedroom to change into my PJs for the night and felt like I was being watched. I looked all around for the prying eyes burning a hole through me and spotted this little guy:

He was literally an elf on my shelf. (And thankfully not that creepy trademarked Elf on the Shelf...) Growing up we had an elf that sat on top of our grandfather clock in the entry way - but he didn't move around and have night time adventures like today's EOTS. I think it's a fun tradition to have though, and I've enjoyed the blogs I've read about that person's elf's adventures.

I expressed my amusement at having an elf on MY shelf to my mother and said I sure hope he enjoyed his stay and exploring different parts of my room. HINT. HINT.

Well...it took *ahem* Elfie a few days to get his act together and play the game correctly, but once he did I found him in some fun spots:

My favorite one? Elfie spent quite a bit of time going through ALL my earrings and various "bling," so I didn't notice at first when he moved on to meet Clay. Last weekend I was laying on my bed catching up on TV shows via Hulu, and I heard something fall between my bed and the wall - with the faintest chime of a jingle bell. It startled me and I had ZERO clue what that sound might have been. I bounced around on my bed a few times, trying to recreate the sound to no avail. I shrugged it off.

My mother informed me a few days later she had to rescue Elfie when she heard his cries from being trapped. Poor Elfie...

Proof that even at 28.7 years old, Christmas can still be a little magical.

Things I Love Thursday

In light of everything that has happened in the past week, I'll keep it simple.

Today I love being alive and having all my friends and family here with me. I am beyond spoiled in this regard, and I never take a moment of time with any of them for granted. They make life worthwhile and fun. I'm lucky to have people like them in my life.

Things I Love Thursday

Actually being consistent about blogging (even if I think my content is kind of worthless at the moment).

Starting to add events to a new planner. It's silly but all those blank pages make me feel like there are endless possibilities for 2013.

Greg Jennings cleverly firing back at Brandon Marshall's moronic comments.

Emails with Katie about her new-found love for "Friday Night Lights."

Cranberry walnut fudge.

Spending more time in the board room than at my desk. (Feels like that's been most of this week...)

Listening to the Nashville soundtrack nonstop all day. (I can't get enough of "Wrong Song" and "Telescope.")


What are you loving this Thursday?

Life lately...

What life has looked like lately.

Christmas Cookie Exchange

Saturday Amanda hosted a Christmas Cookie Exchange at her new house. I haven't been to one since we did it in Girl Scouts growing up and I don't usually attend many Christmas parties, so I was looking forward to it.

Unfortunately the weather on Saturday made me a bit Grinchy...80+ degrees with a pressure headache and frizzy hair, courtesy of lingering humidity, didn't make me feel very holly and jolly. Luckily some snacks and Amanda's Amaretto Punch changed that. It was a small group of the usual suspects in attendance, but it was nice to sit and catch up, play games and snack on everyone's baked goods.

I still haven't had a chance to sample all the goodies I took home, but Tammi's chocolate chip cookies were pretty tasty. (So was her fudge - deliciously smooth. Mmm...) I made pecan pie cookies (bottom right) that were pretty good - but if I do them again, they'll be smaller for a better cookie-to-pie-filling ratio.

I loved all Amanda's festive Christmas food - the olive penguins were my favorite. What did we do before Pinterest?

Angela, Tammi and I hung around for awhile after everyone else left and got crafty! Always the artist, Amanda had spray painted some ice cream cone holders left over from a Thanksgiving craft green to be Christmas trees.

Angela and baby Leland (Such a good party guest! Barely a peep from him until he was handed off me to - I don't know why I make babies cry, but I do...) made one, Tammi made an ocean tree and I...made three. I was a good guest and left them all on Amanda's mantel though. Hope she doesn't mind my out-of-season Halloween tree! :)

After the party and dinner, Tammi and I headed off to see "Breaking Dawn" together - finally! My four word review: well played, Melissa Rosenberg.

Now I've just got to finish the other half of my shopping this weekend and I'll be all ready for Christmas.