Don't mind the noise

Bricks

2012-02-12T19:51:00.002-05:00

I live in a big house. It’s not a mansion of sorts but for wee old me, it’s big enough. 3 stories of which are not used except a kitchen, a bedroom and a bathroom. I tell you this for a reason of which you’ll come to understand. Read on.

Houses are symbolic of the self. In the instance that you know me or actually read this rubbish that I write you’ve come to understand there are some pieces of the puzzle that haven’t exactly sorted themselves into the whole quite yet. My house has been like this. Rooms painted colors that I didn’t really vibe with, empty spaces and walls, things from my past that no longer suited who I’ve become etc. etc. – you get the gist. A half ass ensembled structure housing me. Get it yet?

This Fall I decided that it was proper time to work on the house. On every level. Existentially, physically, structurally….etc….etc…So, I embarked in a redecoration effort of the soul. Material objects, as well as my conscious. I enlisted the help of my BFF who has a flair for design and I enlisted the help of a therapist. Two crucial elements in this process.

I had come leaps bounds in a short amount of time – feeling as if I just might do this, and do this right. Fix my house and all that lay within and then some. I went sort of into a phase of riding on a euphoric high of rediscovery, hope, and excitement. The world was my oyster. I was changing the colors of my life. I was getting there. And…then…the fucking chair never came in. This one chair that was supposed to complete the room. The one chair that I needed to complete my ‘space’ – my now ‘being’, was lost in transit somewhere, lost in a state of coloring fabric and velvet undertones. And then things came to a screeching halt. The redesign faded quickly into a repetitive pattern of distain for existsence….

Stupid traffic jams of life.

And then it hit me. I had escaped all of the realistic undertones by riding on a high of things to come, not what was, so in essence, I was still…still. My house wasn’t ready to be to finished because I was distracted from the real work. Is this vibing? My house wasn’t ready to be finished because I wasn’t even close to being a ¼ of the way there yet. It wasn’t about the structure of walls; it was the structure of my humanity that was still in process. Until that was done, the chair would never come.

I didn’t like this. I rebelled like a motherfucker. I did stupid things. I am an impatient soul. I can’t help it. However, I then grew tired and stopped. I got back to the foundational work. The most important bit to build this ‘house’. I slowly covered gaps with cement to make it stronger. I allowed myself to be in it. One step forward, 5 steps back. 10 steps forward, 3 steps back. Life.

I got the call on Friday. The chair has been shipped. I think I’m ready for that room to be complete now. There are 3 more rooms to go that are in process. By the spring, I think it will be a beautiful place to be.

Make sense?

Thanks for listening.

Rock City and Me - Like Peas and Carrots Again...

2012-02-08T22:00:00.000-05:00

Beck and I always talk about the effects of being 30,000 feet in the air. It makes you think. Maybe it’s the quiet, the vulnerability, the passing over the energy of new lands – whatever it is, I’m not sure but it makes my mind sort of melt and the desire to purge every thought appears.

Today I escaped the office for a bit and walked around Detroit. It was cold out but I felt sort of numb so I didn’t notice. I had my headphones in, sunglasses on, sort of lost in thought and air and time roaming the streets wishing I had my camera to capture some of the beauty hidden within this dilapidated city.

I had walked back there to see if I could catch a glimpse of some sunlight on my face, but he wasn’t around. I walked slowly, which isn’t really like me. I have ridiculously long legs. I basically sprint everywhere. But it was calming. Just breathing. Just being. Getting lost in my head for a bit and imagining life being different. It seemed fitting to peer through empty windows of empty buildings.

Most people think you’re insane to walk around Detroit alone but it doesn’t scare me. I have sort of fallen in love with the city over the past couple of years. It reminds me of myself. Something sort of broken down, that used to be beautiful and thriving - and that one day might be great again. Maybe that sounds like some fluffy literary symbolism but it’s how I feel. I find comfort in Detroit. Or perhaps things that dwell within. I find comfort in the hope of it all.

I thought about my life. The goodness of it. The sadness of it. The loathness of it over the past couple of years. The hopefulness of it. Maybe it’s my city of hope. The place I need to go to in order to be reminded that anything can be rebuilt.

Last night a soul friend held my hand and said nice things. I know he wants me to be o.k., to find my happiness. I want that too. I’m trying. I just get lost sometimes and veer down the wrong path. More so, I just get tired. Fighting for yourself is exhausting – but what else can you do?

Anyway, I digress….Detroit. There is beauty and life within that city and for whatever reason it came into my life, I’m grateful. There is an ellipsis there. It’s not over. There is just a pause of things to come. Like this. Like me……

Thanks for listening.

Passing Ships

2012-02-08T14:47:00.002-05:00

There are moments when you meet someone and your world sort of stops. It’s like finding a long lost part of yourself and immediately you miss what never was. Because it can’t be. Because you’ve met them 16 years too late and there’s a ginormous piece of granite separating you.

Or something like that.

It’s difficult to rationalize soul connections. Why do you meet? What are they supposed to show you, teach you, give you? And why, at times, does it seem so treacherous that the only way for someone to give you what you need is to ultimately give you nothing more than the mere knowledge that they exist?

The unscratchable itch that tests every boundary of resistance. I have never done well with boundaries. I cross them all of the time. It’s a challenge of epic proportions.

And maybe there is a moment when he let's you see him under a street light and for a second you can close your eyes and pretend that he will just exist there, in light, beside you. And maybe in that moment you fall in love. Maybe.

There is gratitude in knowing one can feel. Even if it’s wrong. I miss what never was. Greatly.

I shake

2012-01-26T23:20:00.000-05:00

The snow out of my hair. I get up and change the song that spins.

Every month leads me away. Every moment of laughter I grow. I'm tired. I've been trying for a bit to believe that there is something greater. There really isn't. You fill the gaps. That's what I do. Fill the gaps. But at the end of the day, it's all the same. The memory of a life that wasn't. Quiet reckoning.

I remember laughter.

I like to keep some things to my self. Self. My.

I was pretty when he held my head in his hands and asked for me to not leave - no matter what. It was simple then, when it was codependent. Addicted to being. Fuck.

The most wretched story of all time. Love.

Last Mile

2011-12-08T21:36:00.005-05:00

I’m tired. It’s been sort of a universal life-shifting week. Signs popping out behind every corner that I turned. All pointing ahead. This is it. The last of it. The last mile. All of these years of looking behind me are done now.

I know this to be true.

Something shifted in me. I stopped fighting and when I stopped fighting I released it. It’s funny how you can be ¾ of a mile to the finish line without an ounce of energy left, about to quit before you finish what you started and then this surge of something comes in, takes over and just sort of pushes you across. You might collapse when you get there, but you made it over. By Sunday night, I had made it. By Monday, I collapsed. But I had made it. I had won the great race against myself. After all of this time.

And might I be bold enough to say that I am proud of what I have done. I did it in my own quiet, chaotic and often tormented way, year after year, mile after mile. But I did it.

The 29-year-old girl that chose the path of most resistance finally came to the end of the road at 37. Scarred, bruised, and having fallen 1000 times but I got to the end of that fucking path.

You know how they say when you’re running a race, if you look backwards to see who’s chasing you, you will never win. You will have lost a second and taken yourself out of focus and you will falter. Well I could never win because I have been doing just that for almost 9 years of my life. Isn’t it silly to stop yourself from winning because you’re too busy looking backwards at something that isn’t there anymore?

I guess it’s something we all do in our own way. Perhaps I just did it longer than most. Perhaps it’s because I had always wanted to believe in happy endings. That fighting for something meant that it was supposed to be. But what if you’re only fighting yourself? How can you ever actually win against a ghost? Regardless, I’m not going to fight for anything anymore. Here’s why:

You don’t need to fight for things that belong.

Don’t look back. You're not going that way. It’s that simple. The answers are always ahead. Remember that. And I promise…you will win the race every time.

Thanks for listening.

Sometimes

2011-11-29T20:41:00.001-05:00

I sit in the quiet. And it's needed and necessary and I am reminded that as much I feel that I have lost, I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I've lost no time. Only gained lessons. I have just needed more schooling than most.

That is all.

Thanks for listening.

Butterflies

2011-11-27T07:00:00.004-05:00

A couple of years ago, out of nowhere, the person that I had spent years of my life with suddenly vanished. It was only days before Thanksgiving that he fell into some emotional paralysis and my world as I knew it seemed to crumble. There would be years following of back and forths, ups and downs, but ultimately, we would never be able to recover.

Anyway, for that weekend of Thanksgiving I walked around in a state of complete wreckage. I bashed into walls, literally, fell through floors, drank myself into a broken frenzy, cried, collapsed. You name it. However, throughout all of this time, someone was always with me. My ladies stood guard, watching over. Letting me grieve and keeping me safe. At the end of that weekend I was standing in my kitchen. Nic, on duty, was sitting on a stool, keeping watch. I remember turning around and looking at her and saying, "I think you can go now. I am ready to rest." With trepidation she looked at me, "Are you sure? I don't need to be anywhere, I can stay." "I'm sure," I said. And with that, I allowed myself the time to close my eyes and stop. I had mourned enough. I had done enough damage to myself. Which is the funny bit. Destroying myself as penance for someone else breaking my heart. I think I did that for years.

I'd like to believe I don't do that as much anymore. Though I sometimes think that time in my life won't ever pass. Though it comes in haunting waves in the middle of a moment, it is now a more silent knock. I am more gentle with myself. Although 'he' is long since gone, the memory if 'it' still remains. The 'it' I pray each day releases itself further and further from me so that something beautiful can find its way in.

Another Thanksgiving has passed. I didn't bang into any walls. I didn't fall through any floors. Nobody had to stand watch. I may in some ways have stood watch over others. I laughed. Maybe I shed a few tears but mostly I gave thanks, found gratitude and only let him creep into my thoughts when it was safe for him to do so. I'd like to believe that year by year and within all of this time and space, I'm finally figuring it out. I'd like to believe in butterflies again.

That's all. Thanks for listening.

Nuff said

2011-11-22T11:17:00.002-05:00

Padded Cells

2011-11-18T12:35:00.001-05:00

Today I had one of those vibrating moments where everything sort of whizzed around me and I felt all sorts of woozy and out of body. It happens sometimes. I won’t go into the details of the moment or what spurred it but it happened nonetheless.

In that moment, I sort of broke my own heart because I realized that as far as I’ve come, I haven’t really come that far - in that one tiny moment, I realized I was still holding on to something that I would be served greatly by if I could release it.

Memories are a dichotomy. As much as they tell your story they can at times break you. It’s the elation of remembrance and the burden of it all the same. The other day I was laughing and then I walked by a painting that he had bought me and my stomach instantly went into that wretched twisty knot place and that was that. And unfortunately for me – the memories are everywhere. My home, my thoughts, my ocean. Although I have woven them into the fabric of myself I find no comfort in accepting them.

I presume I see it all as this invisible blanket that covers me. Sometimes it’s incredibly heavy – sometimes its light but it’s there, constantly, - weighing.

I had written a lot about not knowing shit in your 20’s. To be honest, I’m not quite sure I know shit in my 30’s either. I seem to be running to stand still and spinning in circles all the same. My life, as glorious as it is…and it is…is nowhere or nothing of what I thought it would be. And, what scares me the most – is that I have no idea what it should be. Although I appreciate the existential idealism that ‘you are where you are supposed to be’ I don’t know if I buy it anymore because ‘here’ kinda hurts and I’ve been ‘here’ for quite some time. But it’s subtle and it ebbs and flows. It doesn’t rob me of happiness, it just.....- weighs.

Awhile back I had sort of made a pact with myself to not share so much. Not write so much. Not be so open. I’m not really sure why but I just felt compelled to keep things close and protected. But perhaps by doing that I’ve kept too much in and it’s all become cluttered and chaotic. I don’t know. And likely that’s it…what this place is. Not knowing. Today I’m standing in the middle of the fucking ‘not knowing’ room and darlin’ – there aren’t any doors.

Basta.

You Don't Know Shit in Your Twenties: Act - Don't - React

2011-05-17T21:02:00.001-04:00

I'm pretty sure I spent the majority of my twenties being reactionary. Every emotion, every thought. It became an acquired discipline as I got older to just fucking breathe. Let things go.

In my twenties, everything was so monumentous. It was so defining. I had no idea, the older that I got, things would just 'be what they are'. They would ebb. They would flow. They would change and evolve and except for myself and my reactions to it all, there wasn't a lot that I had control over. That evolution creates a sort of serenity. A knowing. A peace.

There are no answers. I spent so many years of my life plaguing myself seeking reason. Sometimes there is none. And as you progress in life you begin to realize that resistance to the belief that you are exactly where you are supposed to be regardless of the discomfort, is futile.

So you succumb. You succumb to realizing that not everyone or everything will ever be as good as you want it or them to be. You succumb to realizing that sometimes, there are 0 answsers, only acceptance. You succumb to accepting that love doesn't come in the form of a neat little package and most certainly, serenity doesn't come in disregarding the voice within. And you succumb to the fact that all of that, in it's annoying, uncontrollable everything, is all good.

And so you learn to act. Not react. You learn to be, not be provoked. You learn to judge little and accept more. You learn to become situationally aware because you realize that it isn't all about you and your moments....it's about much more. It's about two wrongs not making a right and a peaceful nights sleep knowing you did good that day far out trumping demon's the day after. It's about just doing the next right thing for you and those around you - because well, that's what we're here for.

And so you learn to age with grace instead of combat. Because it makes more sense that way. And as much as I spent so many years arguing against my future - I feel ok now....because I finally began to listen to it. Find quiet. Find gratitude. Act. Not react. I didn't know that for decades. I do now. It was worth the wait.

That's all.

Thanks for listening.

You Don't Know Shit In Your 20's - Sex

2011-05-04T21:44:00.000-04:00

Ok, we might as well cover the good stuff first.

It's simple. Whatever good sex you think you had in your 20's won't remotely compare to the sex you have in your 30's and beyond. I could end the topic there as anyone over 30 understands my point but to enlighten the younger generation, I'll share some insight.

It's a well known fact, women reach their sexual prime in their 30's. I presume there are a million hormonal reasons however I tend to vibe more for the cognitive. Mentally, we are just in a better place. We get our bodies, we've overcome a magnitude of neurosis and we're good with what we want, how we want it and we have no problem communicating it. I assume this goes for most men as well.

In your 20's there seems to be more of a groveling gratitude and haste to sex. In your 30's...not so much. It can become a bit more of an art form as you've been honing some skills and well, let's be honest, you've now had years of practice (sorry Mom). Many men have told me over the years that women can't have 'casual sex' as we're 'emotional creatures'. My retort is simply the stare of complete boredom as I realize they haven't a clue.

Women can have casual sex - most especially as they age. It's never really been my thing as I'm more of a serial monogamist but there have been a few mishaps here and there - a girl has needs too. But here's the thing, as we age, we become well aware that emotional fulfillment doesn't exist in a quick romp and we are quite in tune with the fact that a sexual connection doesn't equate to a life partner so we are adept at taking those moments for what they are - a moment and not a reason to veer off the path of soul mate hunting. We lose the drama and fantasy of our youth. It's refreshing.

I remember in my 20's thinking...Ohmagodthisisthebestsexeverrrrr...meh, not so much. Those who carried the title then have now fallen quickly of the pedestal of lovers of yore because as I've gotten older, the people that I have chosen to be with well, are older, and they just know what they are doing. And, they have done it well.

Sure, do I miss my ripped 20-something year old bod flashing in the moonlight - absolutely. However I'll take wisdom of my body and mind and some softer curves and corners any day. My lines are my history, and my history is sexy.

So there, you have it. Sex only gets better after 30. Something for the wee ones to look forward to.

You Don't Know Shit In Your 20's - Prologue

2011-05-01T09:55:00.000-04:00

Last summer Becky and I were sitting on the beach. We were talking about our lives, 'aging' as it were and what not. What we concluded was that for all we had believed, we actually didn't know shit in our 20's and it was only now, in our mid-thirties that we were coming into our own. As we sat there and laughed we talked about how perfect a book would be summarizing all that we had believed to know, to only evolve later into more definitive truth. The good, the bad, the ugly. So, this is the beginning of an attempt to document conversations and revelations within myself and amongst friends.

Now, let me qualify something. There are loads of 20-something year old's who know a great deal. Many are old enlightened souls and know more than most. This is a generalized statement about myself, my friends and not an opinion of the entire 'Generation Y, Echo Boomers, Millenials' or whatever the hell they are called now. So take it all with a grain of salt. When I write, I write about my personal knowledge and experience. I won't pretend to determine the aptitude of an entire generation.

So, this is the beginning...The opening of the door to let the free flow of thought commence. I presume some topics I will have a lot to say, others, well it might be one line of insight. Someone has to document this stuff - might as well be me.

More to follow....thanks for listening.

What If...

2011-02-16T16:28:00.006-05:00

I’ve sort of had this odd energy lately. These “what if’s” buzzing quietly around my head. I’m not really a “what if” type of gal so I find it all unsettling. I’ve always believed that you are exactly where you are supposed to be, I don’t question much.

I keep worrying about what if I missed a window? What if there was a moment that was supposed to bring me somewhere else and I didn’t see it? What if I walked right by it? What if I let it go without knowing what it meant? What if that window was my chance at something more and I was too tired, ignorant or afraid and now that chance has disappeared. What if, there is never anything more again except wondering what if I had done things differently? What if, in fact, this is actually not where I am supposed to be?

How can I possibly challenge what innately has been my mantra for the majority of my life. And more so, why - because what I have, where I am - should be enough?

I presume it’s a stage of something…some strange reckoning of the soul which I will ultimately transcend out of with some higher spiritual enlightenment but for right now, it looms everywhere around me. In everything I see and touch. What...if…

Can't

2011-01-22T23:52:00.001-05:00

Seem to write these days. Thoughts float. They come in. They go out. Nothing ties together to make any sense. I go in. I go out.

It was 5 degrees driving home tonight. That's all I got.

Sometimes, I presume it's ok to be a blank canvas. Perhaps my spirit sits in waiting for the next bit of amazing to arrive.

Thanks for listening.

And so this is Christmas...

2010-12-23T07:28:00.001-05:00

And what have you done? Another year over...a new one's just begun.

My wish for the universe is quite simple....to get to a place in which we embrace life's shit storms, coast through them and treasure the beautiful bits - because amongst the chaos there are still many.

It's quite simple really....

Happy Christmas.

Gimme gimme

2010-12-17T09:43:00.009-05:00

I’ve been trying lately to dissect the concept of wanting what we can’t have. I do believe for many years I subscribed greatly to that. The thrill of the chase and all. And then, it stopped one day because I really wanted what I couldn’t have and not because I couldn’t have it, but because I loved it. I loved him. And well, then the game wasn’t so fun anymore. It hurt. So, I stopped playing.

I believe it’s difficult to appreciate the things, the people in our lives in a way that sort of transcends all of the everyday bullshit. We are so easily distracted by pretty things and take for granted the simplicity of love. The real kind of love when someone stays by your side has your back – even when we catch ourselves banging against walls. The concept of ‘leaving’ is no longer a notion. There is no greener grass. There are certainly other ‘things’ but if you can’t find a way to love all that is around you, regardless of the variations and formations it all may take, well, then you’ll just keep searching under rocks and behind shadows forever. Because eventually, you will come to find, that what you can’t have has nothing to do with anyone else. It has to do with you. And if it’s not in your life, then it’s not supposed to be.

I’m not sure why my mind is spinning in circles about this lately. Perhaps it’s because I’ve broken through something and I no longer feel held or compelled to search anywhere outside of my reality for things far ‘greater’. The universe gives you gifts. These gifts come in the form of people. In the form of moments - even shitty ones. If you don’t embrace them, you will lose them. We miss windows all the time because we are too busy looking outside of them, backwards and beyond them as opposed to at them. We have these chances, and when we become too consumed with what they mean, what they will be, what they will bring us as opposed to looking very simply at what they are - we skew their very purpose.

There is a reason to simplify. There is a reason to believe that your life is of your making and creation. There is a reason to love the gifts you’ve been living. There is a reason to stop fucking bitching and wanting something more. There is a reason to stop being afraid that this life is exactly all you’ll ever get and be. Because when you stand in the cold air and you watch your steamy breath and your eyes blink from sunlight….that is enough. That is all there is. There is nothing more to want or to have. There is no ellipsis.

Anyway, I guess it’s about gratitude and wanting what you have. Not what you don’t.

Thanks for listening.

30,000

2010-12-15T19:03:00.000-05:00

Feet in the air. Tired. Want a shower. Want my bed. Want a hug. Annoyed by people reading my computer screen and not minding their P's & Q's (yah, dude next to me that means you...). Feeling like my ass is flat as a pancake from sitting on it in endless days of meetings, planes, cars...more planes...Mildly crabby and just want to get home to my big empty house with an overflowing mailbox to greet me.

I want to be laying on the ground, breathing cold fresh air with this as my view....giggling....Sigh.

Thanks for listening to my whiny rant.

Let things go....

2010-12-09T08:21:00.002-05:00

Indeed

2010-12-02T09:55:00.000-05:00

Tu Me Manques

2010-11-29T11:48:00.001-05:00

That is all.

Pre-sunrise rambles....

2010-11-28T05:38:00.004-05:00

Can't sleep. Dry heat. Coarse air. Dreams requiring more analysis than one mind can offer. So I stare into the light of a computer screen.

In my dream (one part of the series of many bits), I am standing at the edge of water. I just keep repeating, "It's too deep to cross right now, the tide is too high. I can go around it, or wait. I think I should wait." If I was to get all analytical on myself, I think it's about slowing down...taking more time. Pacing this process. I've had such a surge of adrenaline like excitement to dive back into my life, I negated that I still have much work to do on the self. This weekend went by with a fuzzy blur of running this way and that - which was deliriously wonderful in it's own right, however I'm easily distracted. I promised myself not to distract myself from myself this time. Do it right once and for all.

I have today. I want today to be for me. A long walk on the beach, a lazy breakfast, some OCD-ing of my house, making soup, reading a book, drinking tea...the things that bring me peace and slow me down.

Baby steps Tarah, baby steps. It's wonderful to feel a sense of energy and freedom, but that doesn't negate the strong need to be gentle with myself. I don't want to jump too far ahead - so much so that I miss a step and falter.

Make sense?

Thanks for listening. I'm going to go back to sleep now. Shhhhh.....

It's amazing....

2010-11-22T07:59:00.002-05:00

I can't think of a song that better exemplifies my current state of being. When you climb out of the fog of self, there is a freedom...a rebirth. It is in fact amazing. The way you feel all giddy and childlike - as if the world is new and quite possibly anything you want can in fact be yours. It's the Phoenix, climbing from the ashes. It fucking rocks.

Lyrical Imbibement

2010-11-18T20:56:00.004-05:00

Music has always affected me. Since I was a little girl I’ve always been able to remember every word to every song hearing lyrics at times only once. Words in general have an incredibly strong impact on me so to hear words with lyrical accompaniment….fuggetaboutit.

The difficulty is however, that without most people knowing, I bind memories to songs and so I can never quite let go of things. In the most random of moments, a memory from lifetimes ago can surround me so quickly just by simply hearing one note. I suppose I am amongst many who experience this.

Right now, I am on a plane. A song is playing and mentally I am swept back to driving with the top down in Montauk, NY, sun shining on my face, holding his hand believing that quite possibly we had found our way after all of these years to a place that made sense. That moment would pass and I would eventually let go and walk away recognizing that ‘that’ place never truly existed for us, but in this moment, I am back there, smelling salty air, loving the boy that I had loved since I was 29 years old. Sigh.

I guess the perk is now that I don’t cry when I hear this song or shudder and mentally smash my iPod to bits, I wistfully stare and find gratitude that I have found freedom in my forgiveness. I find gratitude in realizing that although he remains a subtle knock on the door of my conscious I now move and transition through days without anything more than a fleeting thought of him. I know it is the same for him. He’s breathing a bit easier now and although he sits in darkness some nights staring across bays wondering where I went, he’s better. We’re both better.

There is freedom in forgiveness. I am grateful that I forgive myself and him for failing miserably at loving one another. Someone said to me once that the worst person for you to love is a soul mate because they are supposed to teach you something and then move on. If you hold them to you, it will always be a reflection far too great to bare. I am not sure why it is that for the better part of a decade we chose to bind ourselves to one another, too tortured to think of life without each other as opposed to learning what we needed to and then moving on – letting go in love. I guess it hurts to lose something you love even if it was never meant to be yours. But in hurt there is healing and in healing there is life….I have so very much missed my life. It’s a lonely existence when you misplace all of your energy into someone else and not yourself. The emptiness I now have in the release of it reminds me that ‘I’ exist again - if that makes sense. I guess for many years now, I have missed ‘me’. It’s at times been a treacherous road back to the self, but I’m grateful for it regardless.

I’m rambling. The song is still playing. If it’s alright with the universe I think I will remember love for just a few minutes more and send energy across these 3,000 miles so that he too will have some light within his darkness tonight.

Thanks for listening.

Stage 5 - Acceptance

2010-11-08T14:02:00.004-05:00

I prefer this to Stage 4. Stage 4 was rough. This stage...a bit more pallitable. I accept.

Yes, I much prefer Stage 5.

Sundays

2010-10-24T11:24:00.003-04:00

I think have become the most tedious bit. Today, I'm still hiding under the covers. It's cloudy and dark and well, I'm tired and don't see much reason to crawl out into the world.

Becky said to me once when we were discussing being single vs. being in a relationship (Becky is married) - she said, "I am envious of your Friday nights, and you are envious of my Sunday nights." I think it sums most of it up right there.

I recognize that I made a very difficult choice recently and that it will take awhile for all of the bits and pieces to sift and sort themselves out. I know that throughout this 'phase' of being I need to be gentle and kind to myself and others. Breathe my way through it. I recognize the art of letting go. I would like to think that I have spent the majority of my life perfecting it.

Although there is pride in choosing yourself, your strength and solitude and being alone until it's truly 'right' - it still aches and pinches in the oddest of moments. More so when you really just want someone to curl up next to you, pull you in and breathe quietly beside you so that your mind can rest.

Today however, I want to wallow a bit. I want to lay in bed, stare at my ceiling. Think about long Sunday walks, late breakfasts, sharing the New York Times, cooking Sunday dinners. All of the happy normalcy's that make up a Sunday. Today I feel like missing that. It's not to say that at some point I won't pull myself out of bed, perhaps shower and go join the Italian Feast that some of my friends are conjuring up...I will because I will be bored with my own thoughts and that's what you do. You pull yourself up.

For the next hour or two however, I will lay here. Just like this and miss things.

Sometimes you just need to shut up and dance.

2010-10-23T11:06:00.002-04:00

Time

2010-10-16T08:09:00.000-04:00

It is 2692 days from the start date to the end date, but not including the end date.

Or 7 years, 4 months, 13 days excluding the end date.

Alternative time units

2692 days can be converted to one of these units:

* 232,588,800 seconds
* 3,876,480 minutes
* 64,608 hours
* 384 weeks

That's how long.

Nostalgia

2010-10-14T09:34:00.005-04:00

It's never a good thing when the wine is flowing and the albums come out. However, about once a year - oddly enough, usually in the fall, it happens.

Not sure why it is but I get this compelling need to review my life. Sift through the faces and places. Remember the 'when's'. I don't need to state the obvious that coincidentally mildly depressing music strums along in the background. I think it's part of having a vagina. I can't imagine boys do this. I don't know. I'm not one.

It always starts with this album of my childhood. Old black and whites and transcends through the London years, marriage...and then comes to a screeching halt. Because we are in a digital age and well, I have no more pictures. My life in albums ends at 28 years old. The rest of me is 'on line'. It's mildly fucked up in theory when you spell it out like that. That my memories now can only be found through computer screens. There is nothing tangible to keep hidden away safely in plastic bins to pull out every year and sift through. I can delete it all if I want to. There is no basement of the past 8 years of my life.

I miss the days of not being able to edit myself and the excitement of one hour photo's. I miss not being deletable.

Humph.

Secret Garden

2010-10-08T09:06:00.003-04:00

My courtyard is somewhat representative of my inner emotional workings today. Things sort of strewn and scattered about. Leaves falling, seasons passing. Changes. A bit dark but still some flowers fighting to stay in the sun. It needs a clean up. For sure. But for right now, it will stay messy until I can motivate myself to put things in their right place.

Soon.

You ever feel....

2010-10-04T13:40:00.002-04:00

Like you've always known the right answer...you just stopped asking yourself the right questions?

Exactly.

The Being of Just Being

2010-09-28T11:24:00.005-04:00

I ventured West in search of some things. My noggin' hadn't been sitting right for most of the summer. For as much as I did indeed have one of the most fantastic summers of my life, something still wasn't sorted.

I sit here, at a desk, at a window, working, over looking the waters that surround San Francisco, next to the Bay Bridge. How have I traveled here in the past for business and not seen how gorgeous it is here? How did I miss this? It's like I kept skipping right over San Francisco and hitting Seattle instead (which is still to date one of my favorite cities). I assume there is much we skip over if we don't stop for a moment to actually look.

I knew after sitting on the beach for 17 days to close out my summer it was time for something more. I'd grown far too stagnant in my gorgeous sleepy town. For all of the many wonders that exist there as well - there is after all, an entire universe still left to explore.

There are no conclusions, no answers yet to the few that I came here seeking - but I guess more than anything, I needed to remember what it was like to 'be' somewhere else. To see, taste, explore something else. It had been so much of my life until I got wrapped up in doing a whole lot of nothing. I have missed this. And, if I am honest, I haven't spent much time yet asking myself or the universe answers. I'm relying on them naturally arriving.

Each morning, I wake up well before the sun rises. I watch all of the lights of the mountain and the city slowly turn on. I watch the sun creep up over the water. For now, and for the next few days until I fly back across the country and wander my way back home. This is enough.

The answers will come. They always do. You are always where you are supposed to be and for now, I'm supposed to be here. And when it's time. I'll be there. And all will be as it should.

The Left Coast

2010-09-17T08:39:00.004-04:00

Wow...a year since I've written. I haven't really felt the need as my life has been coasting along swimmingly. Some rip tides (literally) however nothing that kept my mind spinning in any direction that needed an outlet of release.

Next week I'm heading out to the Left Coast to see how my feet feel on the ground there. To explore. To remove myself from my comfort zone and see if it's time for an adventure. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't but the tiny little flutter in my belly urging me to seek out new experiences hasn't ebbed so in the very least, it's worth a weeks time to find some answers.

Don't get me wrong, I love my sleepy town but me coming back here was never supposed to be permanent...I just got lost in salty air, the laughter of my friends - at times love - and forgot about all of the spaces and places in the world outside of here that I so used to love getting lost in as well. I have the itch to release myself from the security - at least for awhile. Maybe a week will be enough, maybe a week will be just the beginning. Time will tell.

That being said, I plan in my off hours to be exploring, photographing, writing, eating...and I want to get back to documenting things so I thought I'd give the ol' blog a dusting off and get things rolling again. See if I can't actually have some fun with writing as opposed to just writing for the sake of emotional purge. It would be nice for a change to write for the sake of the beauty that I see in the world.

First stop...San Fran. Stay tuned.

The most difficult part...

2009-11-20T12:57:00.003-05:00

Is when I can't speak. When my emotions become so jolted that it renders me into silence. They harden in my chest and my belly and the noise becomes so overwhelming that it buzzes around me like a blanket. The deafening of noise where all goes quiet and still and my spirit retreats to protect.

For all that I have done and seen. For all that I have walked through, this is always the most difficult part. The breakdown to rebuild. It's the loneliest fucking place on earth.

And so it goes...

Sometimes....

2009-10-12T20:35:00.002-04:00

I wish I had an off button. My lips, my voice, everything from moving. Sometimes, I can't speak what I think eloquently...although in my mind it flows as clearly as dangling fingertips in crystal placid water.

Tonight, is one of those nights, that I just can't say what I feel and right now it's really fucking important that I do. As always, I have to let it out so that I can let something in...mental constipation.

Grits teeth.

Gracias. Again.

2009-09-20T19:50:00.000-04:00

Without gratitude, I don’t believe it’s possible to find true peace. I feel that its taken me 35 years to find true gratitude for my life – as chaotic and often fucked up as it all seems…I am so grateful to be here. To have this so called life of mine.

Today, I laid in the grass with my friends – laughed and talked, watched the babies that are now fast and furiously growing far away from actually being babies anymore…the sun was on our faces, not a cloud in the sky. It was peace. Later, I sat by myself staring at a garden with the earth between my toes and just whispered, “Thank you, thank you thank you thank you….” Gratitude for the existence of sun and breath has literally altered my sense of being this year.

My soul is so much more quiet and calm when I can praise the simple moments.

You see, I made an effort this year to fall in love with myself, my life. To find beauty in the darkest corners and the quietest of hours. I fell in love with my friends (and some new ones too) all over again. Practicing gratitude has empowered me in ways that silly words just can’t remotely articulate. It’s given me this quiet patience and faith. I highly recommend even in the deepest spirals of our own intricate insanities, you embrace the words, “Thank you.”

All of this has allowed the clutter to clear for me. When I drive along the ocean, my mind is no longer filled with caverns of cobwebs but these images of laughter – my life. I am no longer afraid. I am just – well, grateful. I see all of them around me, these people that I have chosen to be the beautiful flowers in the garden of my life…you get what you give. I would like to believe that I have given well to have these beautiful gifts around me. In the very least, I’m trying.

I am here for a reason, and I appreciate that now. Truly. If you can embrace and accept as opposed to fight – it’s enlightening. If you can just allow yourself to be without itching the constant scratches of distractions you can ebb and flow with it. You can just be without constantly doing – if that makes sense? I wasn’t really good at that for a long time. I always believed that being in control would allow me feel in control. That isn’t the case. It has only been since I have allowed myself to lose control and to just succumb to the moments instead of thinking of the next, that I have found the greatest strength. It rocks.

Anyway, - I could go on and on. I won’t. For tonight, I will just say thank you sun, thank you earth, thank you friends, and thank you family. Thank you thank you thank you a thousand times and back again. I get it now.

xo

Gratitude

2009-07-08T21:41:00.002-04:00

I haven’t had time to put fingers to keys. Life is rambling on at rapid speed and days turn into months so quickly that I can barely grasp the memory of the moment before I am on to the next.
I’m into this amazing thing lately. It’s called gratitude. I feel like a cheesy fucking Hallmark card sometimes.

When the wind stirs around me, the sun shines on my face and my hair gets caught in my lip gloss I just think….Jesus Christ I am so lucky. To feel this – to see all of this. To be here. I don’t quite believe I have ever actually felt true gratitude the way that I do these days.

And trust me, there are still shit days…but they sort of roll like water off of oily skin and soon enough, I am back to the good. I know that I spent the entire year working to get to this place and I don’t regret a moment. Not even the icky bits. Solitude does have its perks.

I don’t think a lot of people feel much gratitude. I didn’t for a long time. I was always focused on the what wasn’t or isn’t or couldn’t be. Something happened this year. I think I tossed all that bullshit over my shoulder in a fountain wish. Not sure. It just kinda happened. I mean at the end of the day, how can you really take life for granted and not be grateful for it? Right? Obviously it’s always just as bad as it is good but even that’s good too. Right?

I sound so lame even I want to vomit. I’m not saying it’s a snap of a finger thing…but more of a ‘practice’. I know everyone in my world has a hell of a lot more than others in someone else’s world so therein should be enough. Fingers, toes, breath, family, friends, love…all that…- it might seem trivial but it’s a helluva lot more than most. I guess sometimes you just need to think about it a bit.

Maybe it just comes down to just knowing at the end of it you’ll be ok – because after the end of most, you always have been. So, as the book says, ‘Don’t sweat the small stuff’. Shit will always storm – but that’s what toilets are for.

Part me of misses my angst lost writing….but I just can’t bring it. I’m good. I’m happy. Regardless of what is or isn’t going to come. I’m good.

MUAH.

Remember....

2009-06-03T20:36:00.004-04:00

The story today is this. The things that I need to remember. The moments of standing in Fenway Park with my sister thinking that at my age of 35 and hers of 37 that we are at our first concert together (except for a Jack Wagner incident that shall remain unmentioned). And standing in that moment I kept saying to myself… “Remember…remember this…remember this….” So I am writing it down.

Sitting in my courtyard with hours slipping by and figuring it out through endless banter. Remember this.

When my nephew looked at me said, “I like when you come here TT.” “Why?” I replied. “Because I love you.” I then dropped to my knees, cried and hugged the greatest hug I could muster. Remember this.

When my best friends rallied around me…just because I asked. When their mere presence eased (eases) my spirit, fills my hours with laughter and my soul with uncondition. Remember this.

Walking to dig out cars in the dead of winter with my father. He, smoking his pipe, I, my Parliament Lights. Talking. Actually talking for the first time in years – and not feeling itchy or pained. Being there – in that moment. With my father. Remember this.

Being there – just because you could be and should be. Remember this.

"We want you to be the godmother to our baby...." Remember this.

Hurting my mothers’ feelings. Owning it, and holding out my arms when I saw her telling her how much I loved her and how sorry I was. Remember this.

Letting go in love. Forgiving. Remember this.

Sylvia and the guinea pig -. Soul-mates. Remember this.

Walking the streets of London. iPod blaring ‘The City” by Joe Purdy and feeling for the first time in awhile…at peace again. Remember this.

Standing outside of a pub, Noely walking outside and just smiling at me saying, “We could be standing outside of any pub, anywhere and it’s just 15 years ago again isn’t it T?” Remember this.

Remember the laughter.

“Tarah Cammett, will you marry me?” Remember this.

Being ok enough to be alone. Remember this. Remember this.

Kisses that have sailed a thousand ships and broken a million hearts. Remember this.

The hard stuff. Love. Remember this.

The songs. Remember.

When he said, “I just need to see your face and know that you’re ok…” Please God, remember that. Because that – that is what this is all about. Giving what you get and getting what you give. Being the one that they call on their cigarette break – not the cause of it.

It’s kinda about love – in all and every form. Remember this.

Thanks for listening...

Curtains

2009-05-29T15:42:00.000-04:00

I dozed a little bit. I keep having these sequencial thoughts….more like little dreams. When I wake up they are this hazy fog but I know that they were there….

It’s this sort of balance of reality and REM. If that’s not a metaphor, then I don’t really know what is.

I’ve been trying to wrap my arms around the term closure lately. What it means…what it requires? Is it ever really possible? To close the ure? I presume we learn to let things go…release them from ourselves the best we can but moments are moments…they are branded inside of you. You can’t close what is inside of you. Right? You just maybe have to close the door to that room.

I used to use the phrase ‘Let go in Love’ a lot. To remind myself to release things lovingly. Most times, it’s a crock of shit. Most things I release I release because they hurt and I can’t keep them with me anymore…so there’s not much love there unless I just refer to reflect inward and presume I mean love of the self. Either way you put it…letting go usually sucks.

My mind exhausts me.

Sometimes we just have no choice – someone or something slams down the window…and its shut and you can’t get in and the only way out is through a new one. Sometimes it just feels like an eternity until that new window opens and you just stand still for a bit.

Sometimes I just need to dance.

Birds Chirping...

2009-05-18T05:36:00.001-04:00

Pretty soon my alarm is going to go off…I’ve been laying awake for hours now. Couldn’t fall asleep or stay asleep last night…my eyes are heavy.

Mondays. They suck.

I had this incredibly beautiful weekend, laced with a little sadness but all in all, for a birthday weekend, (or more so a birthday weekend for me which is usually filled with a lot of emotional mishaps and disappointment) I fared pretty well. This is what happens when you are surrounded by incredible souls who just want to see their friend smile. I have many amazing gifts. They are called my friends.

And, perhaps maybe I’m just getting old enough and wise enough to realize that there isn’t much I can control anymore. Things are where they are. No, I don’t have a white picket fence and a baby in a bassinet but I’ve got a lot and for now, it’s time to just get good with that. Ride the wave. Just ride the wave….

Ultimately, it’s time to just keep weeding the shit out of my garden until it looks as it should. And preferably, it will look very pretty in the end.

It’s all about the rally.

The reality.

2009-05-11T21:27:00.000-04:00

“The night wants to kiss you”….so sings Patty Griffin..

And so it is, that the time has come for me to write again. I’ve been wanting and meaning to for a while. Just couldn’t find the moment.

I doubted myself yesterday. I never doubt myself. It was a really wonky fucked up place for me to be. I think I’m over it now. I’m blessed to have a great mentor in my life that keeps me in check. I’m also blessed to have a mind that is stronger than a doubtful spirit and so I’m pretty sure that all is good now.

You see, I am what I am. I am as good as I can be. Beyond that, I can’t do much more. Just breathe, figure it out with each step and do right by myself when and where I can and if the cosmos align, do right by everyone around me as well.

I’m not naïve enough to not be aware of how very blessed that I am. I don’t know many that have the gifts that I have been given. Maybe even the gifts that I have worked my ass off for – regardless, they are beautiful gifts and even if I might not say it, or express it properly, these gifts, these souls in my world are the spirits that guide me. My sanity check(s).

I turn 35 this week. Most of me can’t quite grasp it - as if part of me feels as if I am just starting to live – just starting to figure myself out…to own myself – if that makes any sense. I feel for the first time in awhile that I can be anything. I often times find myself overwhelmed with the insane gorgeousness of my life that I drive and cry and I feel and I tuck it all into this place in my pocket – a story to remember to tell someone some day. But I know it – you know? I know it. And I wasted a lot of years not understanding that – or this…

Life is short right? These days, each day, I find myself trying to find my way but also just really fucking grateful. So grateful. If you know me, personally, and know my life you would understand. I have every and all right to praise it. I have these kick ass amazing souls in my life…every walk, mindset, style, image, belief…they exist in my world and I thrive on them and they complete all of the facets of my mind. These beautiful gifts called my friends. My friends, the family that I have chosen, and my sister, my blood who just gets me and accepts me. It’s priceless. And maybe I’m reminding myself of this by writing because for a few hours last night, I lost that reminder….and we all need it. A reminder of what we are made of.

Remember why you are here, those you touch and those that touch you. Stop wallowing in what isn’t…because that isn’t, isn’t here and if it isn’t here then it isn’t worth much. I guess, in the end, as you weed your garden, that’s what it comes down to. If it’s not there anymore, it doesn’t mean much. No looking back, just around and ahead. Right?

Go forth and prosper. And if possible, find a smidgeon of gratitude for the moments – because they pass. And they build the story of you..so embrace the story.

Rambles of the bambles...

2009-04-10T22:07:00.000-04:00

I haven’t written in awhile. I think I might start most blogs out with that these days. Redundancy. It works for me.

It’s a Friday night…I was out and then realized that nothing would feel better than sitting on the floor of my kitchen writing it all out.

Hi.

It smells like something awkward in here. Something that is old and needs to go away. Most likely the trash but that would be too easy. I prefer to think its something more abstract like the memory of something.

I woke up to a text this morning. “I’m still in love with you.” Humph. Love. A complex word. I believe that we love moments and people that fill those moments and when faced with the reality of realizing that someone is really just human your love wanes. It’s a flu. A viral 24-hour thing. We love the ones we are not with. We place the treacherous moments with them on a pedestal. Only to be knocked off when we see their face and recognize that the fantasy is in fact, a bold reality.

Because, the thing is…if you are really, honestly, and truly in love with someone, and if it’s supposed to be, then it just is. If it isn’t – it isn’t supposed to be and words on paper or computer screens mean little more than shit without actions behind them.

Yah, I’m holding out for the white horse riding guy who makes me feel, in the very least that I’m worthy of a semblance of effort. Call me crazy but I want that sort of feeling that I am ‘it’. Bullocks. I get that. But I can’t help it. And yet, I am so good with where I am at. Set the bar low and it’s hard to disappoint or get emotional about much. In fact, you expect most people will be exactly how you expect them to be. It’s rare that they let you down. So you do your best to be your own lover and champion.

I am not perfect. I am scarred and scaled and am a complete work in progress, but as Forest Gump said, “I know what love is.” I guess I just need the boy who is the peas to my carrots and fearlessly decides that it’s just worth it.

Blah.

His voice astounds me...

2009-03-27T16:35:00.001-04:00

Enjoy....

For just one minute

2009-03-22T13:44:00.001-04:00

I wondered if I had actually truly meant what I had said.

A small flutter of what if?

I think its gone now. All of it.

I still have

2009-03-19T22:53:00.000-04:00

The candles from that summer.

I wish they would burn out.

Twitter: It's Not You; It's Me...

2009-03-10T09:37:00.002-04:00

So, I’ll admit, it took me a long time to warm up to Twitter. At first I thought it to be overwhelmingly – well, overwhelming. I mean, who could possibly keep up with all of the information being purged? I had enough difficulty maintaining a Facebook status. As with anything however, time sort’s things through and after implementing about 12 Twitter monitoring tools and nailing down who it was that I really wanted to follow, what I really wanted to say and learn, I’ve gotten comfortable there.

Until lately. Well, I take that back, I still like it there but recently I feel as if I am in a cyber relationship with a myriad amount of folks I’ve never even laid eyes on and my every move is in measure with something resembling speed dating. I’ve got 1 minute and 1 Tweet to prove my worth. Eeek, what if I’m having a bad hair day and not at my wittiest? My numbers climb, then they drop and vice versa. Was it me? Did I make a bad first impression? Do I have bad breath? Was I just being used for a number and when I didn’t immediately reciprocate affection I got dropped? I mean hey, I’m not that kinda girl. Maybe it takes me a little time to get to know you.

And then comes Qwitter. Yikes. If someone stops following you, then you immediately stop following him or her? When did Twitter become spiteful? Are you following people because they interest you or because of numbers alone? And truly, you might not be interested in my random thoughts about social media marketing, what I had for breakfast or my favorite music of the week but I still might really be interested in what you have to say. Do I have to stop following you because you stopped following me?

Sometimes, you meet people, and you think you have something in common and in time, you realize that you don’t. That’s ok. It’s nobody’s fault, it’s just who we are. Can’t we still be friends? You might follow me but I’m just not interested in antique cars or optical physics so I don’t return the follow. Isn’t that my right? It doesn’t mean that I still don’t think you’re fabulous. It just means that our Twitter relationship will never go to the next level because we don’t have much to talk about - so, I’m bowing out gracefully before anyone gets hurt.

I’m not here for numbers, I’m here to learn, laugh, educate and hopefully connect with some folks that have common interests. It’s ok if your not my type – or I yours. I think? I wouldn’t want anyone to follow me if they aren’t interested in social media, food or music – because what I have to say would most likely bore them – and I don’t want to be the lame girl at the party.

My thought is that people might be taking this game of Tweeting a bit too seriously. Personally, if you have 3 followers or 30,000 that won’t make a difference to me. I like you for you and I’ll follow you because something you’ve said has sparked my interest. If I stop following you, it’s nothing personal; maybe we’ve just drifted apart. It’s not you; it’s me. No hard feelings ok?

Chips and Dip

2009-03-04T11:57:00.005-05:00

Lately, these sounds swim and swoon around my head. I write all day long – in my mind. It’s just rare these days that I actually have time to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard).

I’m in this transitionary place. Still. I know this. I am really really good with this. I’m happy. I just ‘am’ and that’s just enough. I’ve stopped trying to figure it all out and am content just floating along to wherever this journey leads. There are people and things that give me love and pleasure and my spirit is pretty clear. However, as of late, I feel like there’s a chip missing.

Let me try to explain the chip. The chip is this innate, nagging need to do more with my life. Something that has a bit more depth and meaning – something that’s soulful. I’m not going to go on some life quest saving seals or anything like that, I just need to have my life be about more than just me. And I just don’t know how to do this.

It’s not as simple as trying to save the earth or every downtrodden soul I meet. It’s more complex than that. It’s more than just a momentary action. It’s a life thing. Maybe more of a ‘practice’? Does that make sense? It has nothing to do with religion, or work or just the mere action of giving. It has to be deeper than all of that. It is whatever the rest of my life is supposed to be about. I guess that’s the only way I know how to explain it.

I know that its there…it’s like energy in the room that I can’t grab and I know that it is coming soon and all the little bits of the bits are sorting their way and clearing a path for it. It's like each day I have this sort of anxious energy like I'm waiting to be taken to the prom but my date is running late. With all that I am, I know my life is about to change and I can't tell you how, or where, or when or even why....it's just all around. I believe that. I believe in that. There is just more to do and be. There just is. And what that is will find me. I just wish it would hurry its ass up already.

That’s my chip. And it’s missing. And I want to find it. And maybe I just needed to write this all down so that 'when/if' lightening strikes...it was noted.

Cheerios. Thanks for listening.

Writers...block...

2009-02-08T06:41:00.002-05:00

I have it. Not mentally...mentally I write all day long. I see these words fall to the screen and make so much sense. Then, my fingers try to move and they freeze. It's just not as beautiful when I put it into words that can be read.

Until it can be - it will stay in my head.

xo

Is Social Media Really Just a Nudist Colony?

2009-02-01T09:43:00.001-05:00

The title of my blog was inspired by a Twitter exchange between Chris Brogan and I. Although I had no intentions of using it and the mention was purely in jest, I thought about the validity of it today driving into the office. It makes sense because well, aren't we all really somewhat 'naked' in this world of social media, hence, creating a community (or a colony) of nudists?

Social media allows for a 'rawness' that previously hasn't been available in the world of how we communicate. It's now acceptable to befriend your CEO, colleagues and acquaintances on Facebook, and the like, allowing them insight into your personal life, your personality, those that you choose to surround yourself with and what you find interesting. It's a world in which diversity is celebrated and promoted. The geeks, the intellects, the witty and so on. We're all here, dancing around somewhat naked letting others peek through the window and be voyeurs into our lives.

Why? How is this effective? It's simple; it's a lot easier to listen and to exchange when there is humanity. When interaction is brought to a more personal level we tend to find commonalities. For some, that's easy, for others, not so much. Personally, I'm an open book. What you see is what you get and if you can't see it, I'm more than happy to share with you anything that you'd like to know. I am sure there are some secrets and skeletons but I don't exactly have bones falling out of my mouth every time I open it. I'm not actually yellow as my picture might suggest, but that's just me having fun with my Mac. Befriend me on Facebook and you can see me in full color.

We're continually reading all of the recent studies regarding how companies are adopting Web 2.0 and social media. Within these metrics exist a variety of companies that still haven't. My only conclusion is that they are afraid to take their clothes off. When we stand raw and naked we open ourselves up to not just approval but criticism as well. That frightful moment of wondering, what do they think of me? Perhaps executives and employees alike have yet to find their voice or have no interest in hearing what others have to say - but they should, it's truly inspiring. By allowing people to network, connect and communicate your only increasing their abilities and tools to learn from one other. When has knowledge ever been a bad thing?

I'm having a blast hearing what others have to say, more importantly, I'm learning things that I otherwise may not have known. I also am utilizing this avenue as a means to have a voice for companies that I work with, as well as for myself. I have no problem being naked with ya'll. Flaws and all.

Cheers!

Random thoughts while getting my car fixed...

2009-01-08T15:37:00.001-05:00

I haven’t written in awhile. Surprising because of the myriad amount of thoughts that stampede around my head on a daily basis. Wait, I retract, I did write this whole 2008 wrap up piece but it was all slimed up with cheeze so I opted not to share.

I’m sitting at the car dealership while they fix my putt putt up – they have no wireless so I figured why not do some purging? Maybe it will help me to focus on something else besides hacking up a lung all over the place. I’m sick. Again. What else is new? If my state of being could be measured by my health these days – or more so over the past year, well, that would say enough.

I’m in this ‘transitionary’ place – where I have been for a while I guess. There is a kind of solace about it all. I’m not overwhelmingly giddy about anything but I’m also not overwhelmingly depressed about anything either. I just am. I know that I am secluding myself from all things that I see as a negative impact on my spirit. For now, that’s enough. I believe I have been ‘privatizing’ my thoughts a lot more. I don’t feel the need to share where my life, or me, is at with most. Because it just is what it is and it is mine.

In some ways, I guess I’ve just sort of given up on a lot of things and people. Not in a woe is me sad sort of sense but in a realistic ‘weeding my garden’ way. Life is short. If I’m not getting what I’m giving, well, then I’m not going to give anymore. Easy peas.

My sister and I were driving last night and we talked about my life long search for ‘the one’ – I’ve given up on that too. On many levels I’ve had many ‘ones’ and at the end of the day I don’t believe that the perfect ‘one’ exists. You work with what you have. If you have a few key elements such as passion, forgiveness, loyalty and humor – well, the rest you can figure out along the way. Or so I tell myself. It’s sort of like giving up the belief in Santa Claus. Soul-mate Santa. Ha. It’s fun when your young but doesn’t work so well when you’re an aging soul like myself - and I guess I’ve stayed young for a bit too long.

I just think too much. I think I’m done thinking. I just want to live. Be simple. Be good and surround myself with those that want and believe in the same. For now, that’s enough. I think.

Things

2008-12-21T21:00:00.003-05:00

Are evolving. The holidays are approaching. I don't have as much dread about them as I did a few weeks ago. It is what it is. You do what you need to do.....and so it is - the rally.

Can social media keep you young?

2008-12-14T09:40:00.000-05:00

I was driving to work the other day listening to an interview with an author discussing our obsession with 'staying young' - this is primarily an issue with women as we contemplate ways to somehow maintain a lineless face exhibiting no history of our stories - as if this gives us character or beauty? However that's a completely different blog so back to the topic at hand (as I lovingly apply anti-aging serum).

So, this whole fountain of youth discussion got me thinking about ways to 'stay youthful' and obviously, social media came to mind. I truly believe that social media is a tool to 'keep us young'. It's by no means a fountain of youth but in many ways, it does in fact keep the mind and the spirit 'youthful'.

Look at the content that we as a collective group share across all boundaries regardless of age, title, status etc. - Often times the content might just be silly, mocking politics, the state of the world, or it can be pertinent to the world of social media marketing that I exist in. Regardless - we are sharing - the conversation never stops. It keeps my mind tuned and active on a constant basis. That has to beneficial? How many people, friends, relatives and colleagues do you know that now participate in communities, blogs, have a Facebook page, etc.? Most I presume. I even saw my mother had created a Facebook page the other day (she'll be 60 on Friday)! Social media engages people and although many of us use it at a vehicle for education, many utilize it for fun as well.

Point being - social media is bridging a gap between generations and cultures. It allows for the older to connect with the younger - stay in tune and 'hip' to what's current and it allows for the younger to learn from those who have broader experiences to share. There's a flow as opposed to a barrier.

Each time my 'Twitterrific' pops up and I see an interesting post or note, I read. My mind is constantly being stimulated. The best trick to keep the mind and body young is to remain active - and so in that regard I'm doing my best to stay fit - wouldn't the assumption be for anyone utilizing social media on a regular basis that you would reap the benefits as well? So perhaps on some level, social media is one of the answers to the long sought after fountain of youth? Drink from the cup - (even though it often times might over flow-eth), and you just might be around a bit longer...

Now, if I could just figure out a way to burn some significant calories and get my heart rate up while blogging, Twittering, Facebooking and the like....hmmmmm

Rambles

2008-12-12T10:46:00.001-05:00

It comes in waves. This process. Good days, bad days, mediocre days. Just days. I feel very ‘hazy’ lately. Not in my actions, but internally. My friend Holli tells me that I’m ‘blocking’. I know she’s right. Something isn’t getting through that’s supposed to. I’m not sure why but I have a complete inability to ‘open myself up’ to the universe.

I am blocked.

How do I know what to do about that? I’m not sure. I’ve tried all of the standard approaches. Maybe what I haven’t really tried is just being. Just accepting. It’s clear that my path right now is getting right with this so called solitude but I am resisting it at every turn. Why?

There’s this rage lately. Like, I could smash everything to bits. I am not a person who feels rage. But its there. Like a burning fucking inferno its there. I feel completely filled with this unpronounceable rage.

There are seven stages of grief. The anger bit is only stage 3. I’m screwed. 4 more? Seriously? This process feels like a million miles and there isn’t an end of the road in sight. I am trying to get it – but I just don’t.

And for inquiring minds, yes, I’m smoking again. I suck. It’s disgusting. I feel like shit, they taste like shit but it is what it is right now. It’s stormy here these days. What can I say?

Check List

2008-12-08T19:14:00.006-05:00

There is a song by Bon Iver. The last line says this, “Your love will be, safe with me.” At this moment in my life I am not sure if there are words that make more sense.

Isn’t that what we all really want? People to protect the love that we give them? I mean this on every relationship level. Friends, family, partners, etc. For me however, as of late, I think it means or speaks to more of what I am seeking from a ‘soul partner’ perspective.

I have had amazing relationships. Don’t get me wrong, I am blessed to have loved who I have loved – learned all that I have but the ‘recipe’ so to speak I guess hasn’t found its way to the perfect match. I’m still trying. I still believe because I need to. I have to believe in love and that in some ways, it does and will conquer all. I have to believe that regardless of my many failed attempts, “He” does exist and “He” will find me, or I will find him or we’ll find each other. Maybe we already have? I don’t know.

On many levels perhaps what I believe in, seek or hope for is unrealistic but it’s my story and I guess I want the fantasy. The guy who just happens upon my doorstep one day and is the one that just stays – not because he’s a stalker, or insane or because I’m too tired of being alone but because there is just no other place that makes much sense anymore without each other.

What I want is this:
Someone who believes in himself just as much as he believes in me. Who doesn’t need to be saved, or fixed. Who possibly thinks that when I walk into a room his soul feels a little bit more at peace. Someone who has fought his demons and won and a very long time ago released his baggage and opened his soul up to whatever it was that the world was going to offer him. A man who is that, a man that fights for me – especially when I don’t have the energy to fight for myself. Who kisses me every once in awhile like its the first time he's ever kissed me and whispers stories in my ear when I can’t sleep. A being that would never utter a harsh word to me or about me (most especially in front of others) and thinks its truly endearing that I cry about everything. Someone who is secure enough that when I come home from a day of work and log onto the computer for 4 more hours worth of work just kisses me on the forehead and pours me a glass of wine because he just knows that my career is part of how I define myself and something that I need.

Is it foolish to want these things? To believe that there is someone out there that thinks my OCD is absolutely charming and wants nothing more than to sit in the kitchen, watch me cook, kiss me on the back of the neck and tell me about his day because he understands it’s my art, my therapy, my release? To hope that there is someone out there that can make me laugh and hates himself when he makes me cry? Someone who understands that our home is our serenity and it’s our sanctuary from the world to build a foundation of intimacy and it shouldn't be filled with 'issues' or 'drama' or all of that other crap that people clutter their souls and their home with.

I can’t be insane for wanting someone who is the first person I want to call when everything goes wrong and more importantly, when everything goes right. The boy who surprises me with tiny little expressions and thinks that in the right light I could be the most beautiful gift he’s ever been given. The one whose intellect and wit astounds and amuses me. The boy who I would never doubt because his love is solid. Because he is solid. Because he understands that love is a gift and I give him everything back in return. Because we might not be perfect but it’s good . Real good and together we make each other better people. And he will keep my love safe with him because that's just the type of guy he is.

Unrealistic. I know. But a girl can hope. Right?

2008-12-03T16:02:00.002-05:00

Paint. I wrote a blog way back in the ‘MySpace’ days about ‘painting the walls of the self’ – changing color and all of that other existential bullshit. As much as I try to get away from it – I still fall into the philosophical crap.

Jack moved out so I’m trying to re-do the house. Create this whole therapeutic spin on everything. Her moving out was the last piece of all of the ‘endings’ and so it is that I am now alone. As much as I know it was time for her and I to venture on, she is missed. The echo’s of each room as I walk around are in some ways this rigid cold – in others, a bit of tranquility. Me, myself and I. So I have decided to paint – add colors. My house (the self and the soul) have been neutral for so long….it’s just time. I try to make it this process – this renewal. In the end it’s just tedious bullshit that makes my hands, my fingers, my arms and everything else tired. I don’t want to keep re-doing shit. I just want it to be the way that I want it to be. On all levels.

But alas, tis not the way of the cards that have been dealt.

There is something about coming home each night, painting, putzing, sitting and staring at the walls envisioning. There is something nice about making something your own and getting your hands dirty doing it. There is strength in making the decision to change your life and following through on every level – regardless of the anguish factor. At times there is strength in my solitude.

The irony about all of this is the beauty that seems to stream in, within the darkest of moments.

It would be impossible for me to take the conversations I’ve had over the past few weeks and try to replicate them. They have been these very intense, cathartic, wrenching and at times very simple conversations with people that seem to be crawling out of the woodwork. Faces I have missed – Faces that are a constant familiarity as well. Souls that I love. I see it like this. We have so many soul mates. They come into your life for a reason – certain times, certain circumstances. Sometimes they leave, sometimes they find you and they are always a part of you. Sometimes they are a sporadic presence. Regardless, they are part of your soul, part of the journey and sometimes it feels really fucking good to see their face again and so it has been, in this hellish renovation process of the home and soul that there have been glimpses of light in the most unexpected of moments.

For those that are sharing in these moments, the diatribes, the tears, the neurotic laughter, the evolution and the just 'being'….I am so grateful.

I still can’t see the forest through the trees or whatever the hell that means but within the rumbling I believe a sense of calm has evolved. Light will come. All be it as slowly as the pieces fall into place, they are still falling. Each day as I paint these walls, make things new and different it transcends into my spirit a bit. And so it is, you just keep moving until you stumble back onto the path of the life it is that you were meant to live.

It’s all about the rally.

I

2008-11-09T17:59:00.000-05:00

Have writers block. Sorry. Be back when the creative juices start flowing again!

T.

Changing the World Through Social Media

2008-11-01T10:26:00.000-04:00

I read an interesting blog this weekend titled, 'Ten Ways to Change the World Through Social Media'. I assume there are blogs such as this all over the internet but I happened upon this particular one. It resonated for the simple fact that recently I added a Facebook application called 'Earthkeepers' started by Timberland which encourages folks to get involved with environmental preservation. In this instance, tree preservation.

The premise is simply, for every virtual tree you grow to adulthood by sending seeds to your friends, a real tree will be planted in an area of the world ravaged by deforestation,
desertification, or drought. I have friends that work at Timberland and have always known about their efforts to preserve the environment so it was an obvious application for me to add - and kudos for Timberland for their utilization of social networking to go viral and get their message out.

It's exciting for me that Awareness now integrates with Facebook and as enterprise social media integrates more and more with social networking applications there can be a continuation of spreading important messages to friends and family - colleagues as well.

There are ways to change the world and social media gives us the ability to not only share ideas but to share messages of value. It's a powerful tool and can have tremendous impact if we use it correctly. I would encourage those of you who dabble in the realms of Twitter, Facebook and the like to utilize those forums to promote causes and share knowledge where you can.

Words of Wisdom to Tarah circa 1998....

2008-10-31T21:48:00.000-04:00

I read a post awhile back about the advice a woman would give if she could go back in time and give advice to her 10 year younger self. I can’t remember where I read it so apologies for not being able to track back. Regardless, it inspired me to do the same….if I could go back in time 10 years what would I tell myself to make the road a smidge less bumpy. I don’t have too many regrets and there isn’t much I would change, it just might’ve been good to have known a bit more about some of the signs along the way.

So, here goes it. Words of advice to 24 year old Tarah…..

1. Your sister will become your closest friend and most trusted confidant. Don’t wait until your almost 30 to realize that.
2. Go to the gym you lazy piece of shit. Your body rocks and you don’t even know it. Start a habit now so that when you’re 34 you don’t have annoying pudge.
3. Lay off the wine.
4. Quit smoking and give yourself 10 extra years of lung healing. Trust me, you can live without it.
5. About a year from now you are going to meet a really pretty boy. You will move to Vermont with him, you will open a bead store and marry him. Skip all that shit. There is no money in beads and you will come to find that your true calling is not psychology but marketing and you divorce the cute boy anyway so go find a company called OutlookSoft - it is there that your career will begin and your life will change forever. There will be more cute boys…not to worry.
6. Act, don’t react. If you can control your reactions and have a little faith, life will be a hell of a lot easier.
7. Let it be known that conversations in elevators can change your life forever.
8. Call your sister, tell her that she will in fact have the family that she’s always wanted.
9. Forgive your father. It will make a lot of things much easier throughout the years.
10. Weed your garden of unhealthy and negative people. You’ll do it in your 30’s anyway so you might as well beat yourself to the punch.
11. You will start to make a lot of money. Don’t be an asshole and spend it all. Invest it…you’ll regret having been so frivolous all of those years.
12. All of the beauty products in the world will never work better than Oil of Olay. Embrace it and stop the madness.
13. Believe in yourself a bit more – you’re really good at what you do. Don’t wait so long to figure that out.
14. When you know something with all of your being, don’t fight it. It won’t go away until you acknowledge and embrace it.
15. Many children will be born, they might not be yours but they will show you a side of love you were never before able to comprehend.
16. Wash your face before you go to bed. Your skin looks prettier.
17. Sometimes people need space to sort through things – don’t take it personally, it isn’t about you. Believe that what is meant to be will be .
18. Listen to the energies more…that’s why you’re here.
19. You will actually grow tired of being a pothead.
20. You’re going to be on birth control for a very very very very long time. Just go get an implant already so that you don’t have to take a pill everyday for 15 years.
21. Karma is real – it will have its way with you so make the right decisions for yourself and others.
22. SPF on the face – you’ll get sun spots and they will annoy the shit out of you
23. One word….Loehmann’s.
24. I promise, with all that I am, no matter how insane it all gets (and it will), you will be ok so chin up little camper – enjoy the ride.

I think that’s it for now….anything you would go back and tell yourself if you could?

Just to be clear....

2008-10-23T19:32:00.000-04:00

So I feel the need to clarify something – I am not depressed. OK – let’s clarify that – I kinda am going through some shit that might create emotions resembling depression, however I am not depressed. I’m introspective. I’m figuring it out. There’s a difference.

What I write are my thoughts. Those thoughts are just that – thoughts. They are not my actions, my personality or how for the most part, I live my life. That being said, if I am going through ‘something’ its through that ‘something’ that the creative juices flow. I don’t know too many creative folks who were deliriously happy when they purged whatever emotions they had into words, canvases, music and the like – you get the gist. Christ, Riley and I lived together for over a year and it wasn’t until we ended that he actually drew a picture of me – or anything for that matter – and that boy is an artist on all levels. Joy doesn’t usually stimulate much because your too busy being friggin’ happy and enjoying it. Get it.

Does it interest people to know that the other day I was walking through a parking lot, stopped, looked up at the sky and stood there with the sun shining on my face just appreciating the beauty and the warmth or that the other night I sang the Muppet song to my god daughter and had the most amazing moment with her in my arms looking at me and trying to sing along? GAG. That would bore the shit out of you and truly – I don’t need to write about that because I don’t need to release that. I like to keep the happy bits – and there are lots of them. It’s the moments or the thoughts that weigh me down at times that I purge onto this screen. Mostly, so that I can get back to the happy bits.

So just understand this – I am not what you read. I am much more than this. The day to days of my life aren’t much different than anyone else’s – It’s just that I am human, I have emotions and I am so incredibly comfortable talking about them it might not make sense to most – or perhaps they don’t think its necessary to know so much. That’s their right, so I would propose those folks stay out of this particular area of my head.

I’m not a kitten stuck up in a tree – I don’t need to be saved. I’ll do just fine saving myself and none of this is about that – it’s just about me getting through what I need to and purging what pops up along the way. I just felt the need to be clear on that.

Cheerios.

I used to be beautiful...

2008-10-16T07:23:00.000-04:00

Or so my scale would have me believe. For a very long time I was incredibly thin. I maintained this ‘thinness’ for about half a decade – over the past year, not so much.

Let me back up and clarify. I wasn’t 117 lbs and a negative size 4 because I was working out everyday and eating right…I was this way because of stress. Unlike many, when I am stressed, I don’t eat. Therefore, I didn’t really eat for quite a few years. I lived on cigarettes and wine and on occasions after numerous days without solid food, I would pound Ensure or Pedialyte for some nutrition. I’m not proud of this time in my life at all and when I was going through it I always used to say, I can’t wait until I can just eat a cheeseburger…apparently I meant many cheeseburgers….

However, lately I’ve been perusing old pictures and I look at myself and I think, “God I looked so good” – which is a twisted view of a woman who internally was rotting….Now I see pictures of me still only a size 6 (however let’s be honest ladies…most days I’d be much more comfortable in an 8) and I cringe – I have gained over 20 lbs…Today I am healthy – for the most part eat very healthy, I drink minimally now and I’ve quit smoking. I have learned to deal with stress on a more productive level and I no longer get the ‘acid burning up my entire stomach’ feeling. This is cause for celebration….so why do I miss emaciated me?

Because thin is ‘pretty’.

But I really fucking love food.

Now, I could easily become a work outaholic but I’m tired of having crazes and addictions. I want to be healthy – I like going for long walks, I like doing push ups and tossing around my weight ball and doing yoga here and there but beyond that, if given the choice of going to the gym or having dinner with my BFF’s *eh-hem last night* I’m going to go with time with my loved ones. I was away from them for so many years and although I’ve been back for a while now, all of the time in the world isn’t enough for me to be with them. My little month hiatus is over – I am better with them so that’s where I want to be.

I just want to get to a place in which I again feel beautiful being naked - even if I don’t have ribs sticking out? I want to stop getting teary because my hips seem to have spread into this “I’m ready for a baby” width that I have no control over…I have never ever been body obsessed but lately – or I should say for awhile now I have noticed it’s a bit of a downer…and I know that a lot of it is a ‘morphed’ imaged of myself – it’s never as bad as you think its just this weird societal injection that food=fat so food=bad and this guilt is then created in enjoying any of it.

I think right now I’m just looking for the balance and working to get back to the place where ‘I’ mind, body and soul feel just right being the way that I am - a bit of blubber and all!

Things that make me happy (in no specific order)

2008-10-11T05:40:00.001-04:00

(This is what you do when you can't sleep....)

1. Wading in the water and looking for sea shells
2. Sleeping, a really good peaceful sleep when all seems to be right with the world
3. My god babies and those who aren’t but I still love just as much
4. Really really good cheese with a really really good glass of wine
5. Laughing
6. Reading trashy magazines
7. Being in love
8. Finding bargains
9. Long lingering dinners
10. Comfy clean crisp sheets
11. The smell of the seasons changing
12. Floating
13. Good kisses
14. Waking up in a new place with nothing to do but explore
15. Meeting people that inspire me
16. Newborn babies
17. Accomplishing a task
18. Having a good hair/skin/outfit day
19. Driving with the top down along the water
20. Eating grilled cheese sandwiches and chicken soup
21. Cooking
22. Finding the perfect gift
23. Doing things for other people
24. Loehmann’s
25. PIZZA!!
26. Spa treatments
27. That excited sicky feeling in your belly
28. Driving up to the mountains
29. The taste of salt on my skin
30. How I feel when get off my ass and exercise
31. A moment with my friends when you laugh and laugh
32. Being good at what I do
33. A really good breakfast on a Sunday – reading the NY Times
34. Les Miserables
35. London
36. When my phone doesn’t ring
37. Morning snuggles
38. The peace that being able to believe in someone brings
39. Frosted Mini-wheat’s
40. Letting water trickle over my hands
41. The sun shining on my face
42. Selflessness in others
43. Situational awareness
44. When people surprise you – because they rarely do
45. Being successful
46. A really good song
47. When you teach a child to learn
48. The smell of bleach
49. Cleanliness
50. Peanut M&M’s
51. Being different
52. The beach
53. Falling asleep outside
54. Sitting by the fire and talking for hours
55. Clean lines
56. Daydreaming
57. Eating fresh cold fruit on a really hot day
58. Others being happy
59. Gratitude
60. My story
61. Owning your shit
62. Oh, definitely swearing
63. Being slap happy and chatty and then crashing for a nap
64. A good view
65. Hugs
66. Small town hokie stuff
67. Spontaneity
68. Faith
69. When someone is just there
70. Being happy.

The Quitting - One Month

2008-10-07T08:56:00.000-04:00

I had a dream the other night that I was smoking. I can’t remember if I was enjoying it or not. I was just smoking. Must be like an amputee that lost their leg dreaming about themselves running – you still feel it.

So it’s been a month. It’s been this really long weird fucked up month filled with so many things. It’s all sorts of hazy and I feel like a drone and certainly not my normal (whatever that is) self. I am proud of myself but it’s just not really a positive experience right now to get excited about – mainly because wrapped around all of this, are life decisions that have had me grappled with more emotions than I could begin to express. A month ago I made a decision to change my life. That decision was simply put into ‘The Quitting” and most would assume that meant just giving up my cigarettes. It’s been about so much more. It’s about doing the next right thing, for myself – things that by doing the right thing can hurt emotionally, physically, and intellectually. It’s about understanding what and how I want my life to be. I’m still 100% in it. I’m still figuring it out and releasing….and well, it hurts – a lot as you sort your way through it. But it’s the only way. It has to be done.

Don’t misunderstand me; I have a fantastic life. I have an amazing job that I love, I have incredible friends, I have a wonderful sister and nephews, I am loved, I have traveled all over the world and I live a very comfortable life in a place that I adore. But there has just been something missing. If you met me you would never think ‘woe is her’ – and I’m not – nor do I act that way. Its just stuff – stuff that creeps up and you feel all dusty and you have to clean it all out. Stuff that is just your own that nobody sees. There is just something missing and in order for me to fill that – or to fulfill that, I need to get busy getting shit in order; body, mind and spirit.
So rip the band-aid off…if you’re going to clean your house and weed your garden of all of your unhealthy everything’s, you might as well do it all at once –.

I’m rambling again. I feel like all I write about is this woeful crap. It’s not really how I feel. I feel incredibly grateful. I’m just going through this ‘thing’ and the only way I can process is to write. My writing and maybe my reality are separate pieces of me.

So, what am I missing as a human being? – Why this ‘cleansing’? I’ll write about that another day –. In the beginning of all of this I said that I would keep some things to myself and talk about them as I worked through them…so it was written, so it shall be. But feel free to wager a guess if you like.

Four weeks ago today this all began. I never ever actually thought I would be able to do it….if perhaps it sounded like I believed in myself it was a load of crap. But I’m doing it. I plan to continue doing it. Which is ironic because it’s a hell of a lot easier to be sitting smoking my cigarettes and sipping my Sauvignon Blanc than it is to actually sit with myself. So time will tell – for today I’ll pat myself on the back and allow for a moment of pride.

It’s all about the rally.

Just a note, there are a few perks to no longer smoking – I thought I would list them:
1. My hair smells really good all of the time….so does my skin, my hands and clothes
2. Maybe it’s just me but I feel like my complexion is really great and I swear I have much more color in my skin (even without tanning – I gave that up as well)
3. My voice is lighter – people have told me this. I do however miss my Demi Moore rasp!
4. The weird taste in my mouth that happened after I quit seems to have disappeared and I think my ‘taste buds’ are more balanced
5. My teeth feel better – like, I don’t have to brush them 80 times a day.
6. I am drinking more water and much less wine
7. The cough is gone – that hacking cough that has plagued me for about 2 years is GONE!!
8. I feel really good about setting a goal and working towards it – it’s a nice feeling.

K – that’s all I can come up with today. I am sure there are more, or others or whatever…

Cheerios!

Meh

2008-10-05T17:08:00.000-04:00

So today was a day of organization…cleaning…all the stuff that one does to occupy their mind and time. I have bleached as much as I could. I bought all new bedding, I bought new pillows, I even bought pillow covers (I have never bought a pillow cover in my life). I did 4 loads of laundry, folded and put everything away, organized a closet, organized my jewelry, re-did Jackie’s, bathroom, ran copious amounts of errands and made a vat of chicken and vegetable soup. OH, and I read US and Bon Appetite.

I still feel like absolute shit. I am completely winded doing anything. My sinuses are so swollen that nothing at this point is working to alleviate it and in turn, I for the most part have no hearing in my left ear. Ugh.

I did some research today. Apparently feeling like shit is ‘par for the course’ in quitting smoking. Oddly enough, it made me feel better to read it. Since there is no hope in sight until my body completely ‘detoxes’ from the nicotine I guess I’ll just have to suck it up and function on half gas. According to what I’ve read, this could take a year of repetitive colds, infections etc. etc. YAY!

At some point, all of this will feel worth it. Right now, not so much. I’ve never been much of a ‘forum’ person but it was helpful to read everyone’s rants today. I have felt pretty isolated and a bit insane with the gamut of emotions, physical ailments etc. but somehow now I feel a bit requited in knowing that I am not alone in this. Millions of others are being tortured by ‘The Quitting’ as well.

It is difficult, if I am to be honest, emotionally, when you try to do something good for yourself, to feel horrible mentally and physically. It’s like a downer on a downer. I’ve quit smoking, I’ve for the most part quit drinking (just not into it right now), I’m eating super healthy – taking all sorts of good for me ‘supplements’ and I feel like a shell of myself. I want to exercise and get my body back to looking the way it should and I have the energy of a pencil eraser. I am not sure what else I can do to feel better you know? I knew that this would be ‘life changing’ but it feels a bit more ‘life stinting’. Part of the process I assume - I am just hoping the ‘process’ doesn’t become a lifestyle of recluse.

Tuesday will be one month. I am proud of myself…I didn’t expect it to be this hard – and it’s not the cravings – it’s all of the aforementioned crap. I just keep telling myself that I did 20 years of damage. It’s going to take awhile for my body and mind to figure out what the hell to do with all of this oxygen.

That’s all she wrote for today. Christ, I feel like I am in AA - "one day at a time" just ran through my head. If I start chanting the Serenity Prayer someone please give me a cigarette and a glass of wine STAT.

If You Lose Your Faith You Can Have Mine...

2008-09-30T08:47:00.000-04:00

It's just a line to a song. It's also something that I had painted as a sign and I gave to my best friend on her birthday. It's a song that as 'BFF's' we've always listened to. The song itself isn't too relevant to this but in case you now are wondering what it is, it's 'We Walk the Same Line' and you can read the rest of the lyrics here.

Anyway, that line has been in my head for the past few days. In everything that I do. Each conversation I have. It sits there, singing quietly in the back of my head. Either it's me, trying to project that out to those that need it or its me, saying it to me, reminding myself of something? I'm not sure. And no, I'm not hearing voices.

I also keep thinking about this. Remember when you were little, in school and you would be given big pieces of construction paper, all different colors. And glue. That sort of glue that would come out in thick clumps and you would use a Popsicle stick or something of the sort to spread around? Hell, if you were hungry enough you might even eat some. It was messy and you would get it everywhere and stick everything in sight to it? You remember that stuff? You weren't old enough for good glue...certainly not old enough for a glue stick even, but you could create whatever you wanted and it could be sloppy and horrible but it all stuck together and was bright and pretty and made some sort of sense at least to you? I've been seeing that a lot in my head these days.

Everything is pretty messy but it's still stuck together in this random abstract compilation piece. When I visualize it, I actually see myself standing here with big clumps of glue holding everything together and all sorts of colored paper stuck all over me.

Not sure if I am actually expressing it clearly....it's all in my head.

I just feel like I'm walking around with that container of glue and sticking it all over myself, covering the tares and doing my best to stick it all over anyone and anything else that I see that's broken and needs fixing. The problem is however, that glue wasn't ever really good glue and things would never stick too long because it was clumpy and messy and well....it was all a jimmy job of art. A big ol' paper plate turkey and the feathers are falling off one by one.

So maybe instead of glue, I should just focus on having a little bit of faith or giving a little more faith...just something to do with faith. It is tattooed on my back after all...maybe it's time I get back to it.

21 days no smokes.

I know I promised you a rose garden.....

2008-09-27T08:38:00.000-04:00

But sometimes you just get stuck with dandelions.

I remember writing that when I was in high school. I used to write a lot of really ...no really...bad poetry. That was one of the lines.

It's been in my head lately.

I want a cigarette today. Pillows are stuffed in my windows keeping out any spot of light. I lay here. I think. I worry. I think some more.

I want a cigarette today. I sat last night with one in my hand for a long time as I watched the puddles in my basement seep across the floor. I never lit it. I just missed my old friend so we sat there together, like we used to and that was enough.

Sometimes you just get stuck with dandelions and right now, I'm standing in a field of them. The good news is that dandelions eventually turn into those puffy white things and I get to make millions of new wishes that can scatter and blow across my universe. I look forward to that.

Take care, brush your hair and when you get hungry, eat something. Peace.

You want to buy a duck?

2008-09-26T10:51:00.000-04:00

I have never...ever...understood the meaning of that? It goes on to a whole, "Does it quack? Course it quacks" pattycake-esc something or other. Utterly confusing - because of course, yes, ducks quack.

I don't like things that are confusing anymore. Clear, cut and dry. That's how I like it. Not little bones falling out of people's mouths when they talk, no dust, dirt, skeletons, confusion. Just raw, real and that's it. Leave your excuses and bullshit at the door. Who has time for it? Either do what you say and say what you do or go meander off in some other direction to the land of 'Fluff up your ass' because really, your just not welcome here. I understand that might sound crass but wouldn't you prefer that as opposed to a manual to figure me out?

I recently became FB friends with a girl I knew in what I truly consider to be another lifetime. For the sake of the story, I'll call her Michelle, cause well, that's her name. (Hi Michelle). In that time of my life...this horribly dramatic, chaotic, twisted time in my life, Michelle was always the one who had little to no tolerance for woe is me diatribes (and trust me I had plenty) or repetitive unhealthy behaviour masked as 'woe is me'. I appreciated that about her. Maybe more so because if I could've bombed myself out of the illusion that had become myself, that was pretty much who I always have been. I missed myself, therefore I really liked Michelle. It's not easy being that way. Most people don't want tough love and most people certainly don't want to hear the innate truth about themselves but if you don't have one person in your life to show it to you - then your screwed because you'll continue to walk around in a bubble of the self actually believing the shit you spew out to the universe as logical.

I think I'm digressing here and I don't know if I make sense. What I am saying is, it's not easy to be real, to be raw or honest, most certainly with others and most assuredly with yourself but you have to listen. If patterns repeat, if behaviors are the same, if you constantly get the same results and have had the same conversations about it all over and over and over again at what point do you finally take out a wee little pin and pop the god damn bubble? You get it? Just...stop.

Hence the 'Tarah retreat' - the whatever it is that I am going through that has me tip toeing quietly out of the room. I'm stopping.

Can I blame this rant on PMS? I mean I do have it? Maybe we should all just hug it out?

Day 17. No smokes. I pretty much rock about that whole deal.

Cheerios.

Mercury's in a 'Backward' phase until October 15th...

2008-09-25T07:49:00.001-04:00

Well, that explains a lot. At least I have a astrological explanation for my innate need for seclusion. I like having an excuse. Makes me feel much less 'Gretta'.

My days have begun to flow like this....

I wake up
I begrudgingly shower
I drive to work
I sit in traffic
I work
I drive home
Sit in more traffic
Go home
Meander around the house for about an hour
Work a bit more
Go to bed
Rinse and repeat

I am a very social person. I am not the type of person who stays at home and certainly not when I am feeling 'funky' - however I have so far turned down 4 invitations to actually socialize with others this week. I was even offered a girls night tomorrow to which I usually would stampede over people for and I was left only with a 'Meh, maybe another time'. For the first time in my life - and I say this with minimal to no exaggeration, I want nothing to do with anyone. I don't want to talk, I don't want to be cheerful, I don't feel like looking 'sassy', I don't want to be asked questions about my life. I want to do nothing, say nothing and go nowhere. Whatever it is, whatever fly I've been swatting away for the past however many years has finally bit me and kicked my ass.

If I do say so myself, I'm officially broken. Not in a, "I want to die the world is a horrible place and I'll never come out of my house way" but more so in a - I have been forced to retreat and have given up on leaving my corner until the skies part again. Because, if I look at it, truly evaluate it all, I've been running around, dancing this dance, yo-yo-ing for years. I'm over it. Done. Finito. Basta. And until all of the pieces have fallen, and until karma lets go, I'm staying right here where its safe and quiet. Let the rest of the world battle it out. I'm bowing out gracefully. At least for now - at least until my reserves are replenished because I am fucking tapped.

I'm not depressed. I'm eating. I'm sleeping. I'm not crying hysterically. I'm just being robotic right now. I assume that I put myself here and I'm OK with that. I am OK. Just watching from the sidelines until whatever karma coach there is puts me back in when it's my time to play.

Holli reminded me last night that my psychic said this was going to happen - I had in many ways forgotten about it and honestly never thought it was all going to go down this way but maybe she was right. Maybe this is it. When Holli called, and I scowled at the phone for it actually ringing but picked up because I love her, she made sense. Because this is something I have never done. There has never been a 'breakdown' to get to a better place in my life that hasn't consisted of copious amounts of wine, cigarettes and serious banter with friends. I have never escaped to silence and peace. Ever. Ever ever ever. So maybe this is different. Maybe it's the true and real way to change my life. I don't know. I have no idea what I am doing, why I am doing it or what will become of it. Chances are that by the time I open the door from this dark room, the sun will be shining but the playground will be empty and all the kids will have gone home that I wanted to play with. If that's the case...then so be it. I am where I am supposed to be. Something is supposed to come from all of this. Maybe for the first time in my life, if I allow for quiet, I will find the answers.

Time will tell.

Oh yah, and I'm still not smoking. Exercise begins this weekend. That should be interesting. Maybe to heal the mind, I need to start with the body?

Two weeks today

2008-09-23T13:45:00.001-04:00

I'm crabby and all sorts of out of sorts.

And I think I'm getting fat.

Beyond that - I've got nothin' today.

Boooo.

Meh

2008-09-22T11:16:00.000-04:00

Today is day 13. To be honest, I could care less about smoking. Don't get me wrong, I miss the habit - the 'something to do' - especially when I bounce off the walls of the shit storm as of late, but I don't miss tasting or smelling like smoke and I certainly don't miss waking up in the middle of the night and spending most of my days coughing up a lung.

I have chest pains...bad. Like, as in I contemplate an ER visit about every other minute. They started before I quit - they have only gotten worse. I am hoping that they pass. I am hoping many things pass.

Why is that when you are sitting in the middle of a shit storm, people start serving you shit sandwiches? Is it that they figure, hey, she looks pretty tired and beaten so a few more slugs won't hurt? Hugs not slugs people....fucking hugs not slugs. A note to the self. When someone is trying to conquer a few small hills and mountains, clap, wave, wait at the top or bottom but stay the fuck out of their way until they get there. Let people get through what they need to and then interject your thoughts and feelings if they are still worthy but try to remind yourself that at times we can only carry so much.

In the end, it's about selfishness. We're selfish beings. We have to be. We're all we have.

That makes no sense. I know this. I'd love to equate my current state of emotional disarray to smoking (or lack there of)- but in truth, it has nothing to do with it. Sometimes, things fall apart at the most inopportune times. It is what it is as they say. Most days, you roll...days like today I feel as if I am stumbling. Or months like these - I don't know....life seems to be rolling into one long storm. This slow ebbing rumble that has been building and boiling is seemingly about to blow. This should prove interesting when it does.

It's just one of those times in which the noise doesn't stop and it's all chaotic and insane and the sounds get louder and the room gets smaller and you have so many decisions to make and paths to choose that they all become blurred and scattered and windows are shutting all around you and you are frozen. So you do nothing except wait for someone to scoop you up, pull you out of it all, tuck you into a bed, let you sleep for a while, feed you soup, ask nothing, say nothing. Since that person never comes, you just wait until the quiet comes. So, I guess I'm just waiting.

Sorry for the rant. Marshmallow thoughts today. Mush.

One Week

2008-09-16T08:22:00.001-04:00

And oh what a week it's been....not really - I just like the dramatic flair.

Actually, the past 24 hours got a bit dodgy. My stress was heightened by many things and well - I had a few - or more than a few, "Jesus Christ I need a cigarette" moments. I didn't have one. I really wanted one.

I feel boring not smoking. I miss it. I don't know if I feel physically any different. Healthier I mean. I guess its all too soon. I think I'm waiting for some beam of light to fall down from the sky, into my lungs. Some sort of come to Jesus moment where I sit, breathe and actually feel amazing.

This actually happening is highly unlikely however a girl can dream. I want something to feel differently so that it all feels worth it. I guess I do feel less 'lethargic' but again - nothing earth shattering as of yet. I am so impatient. It's one my worst personality traits.

Anybatooby, week one complete. Still rockin. I miss my Parliaments. I am sure they miss me - or in the very least my money. I am proud of myself but I am so not in the clear yet that it's hard to celebrate. Give me a few months under my belt and it might be different.

Off to NYC this week - another right of passage - me in NYC without smokes will be a first. If I can get through this, then maybe I'll have faith that this all might actually have a chance for some permanence. I'll be so busy that hopefully I'll just breeze through it. However hope is not a strategy.

Cheerios.

Day 7

2008-09-15T14:24:00.000-04:00

That's all. I'm in Day 7.

It's going good - I haven't melted down yet.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Peace.

Day 5 - The senses

2008-09-13T12:06:00.000-04:00

I have to be honest, I thought the whole, "your senses come back" crap was just a load of well...crap. And, its only been 5 days. If it was going to happen wouldn't it take weeks? Maybe I'm being psychosomatic or maybe I'm not but I can smell EVERYTHING and everything tastes completely different.

I'm actually not bullshitting, I can smell my water. I was brushing my teeth and my daily mundane task became a scratch and sniff adventure. I have always thought I had hyper senses...suffice to say, they are now bionic.

I am a self proclaimed foodie. There is nothing I love more than cooking, eating, experimenting, discovering and creating food. I will eat the stinkiest cheese and the cheapest burger, it really doesn't matter - I just love all things food. If I had my wish, I would travel the world and write about food. I am also a salt whore - but that's a story for a different day. Now onto the point below.

So, today is rest day. I am always go go go. I always have plans and doing this and that. I am tired, my body is going through some weird transition and I want nothing more than to just lounge. So that's what I'm doing. I have not replaced smoking with food and in fact, because of this weird sense of smell/taste actually find myself wanting less to do with food and more to do with water. However I haven't eaten much so in my lounging I decided it was time for my once every 6 months trip to Wendy's for a bacon cheeseburger. I figured I deserved it. Uhm - my beloved Wendy's bacon cheeseburger and fries tasted nothing like I remembered. In fact, I could basically taste the grease on the fries. It was nasty. In fact, if this is really what french fries taste like (remember folks, 20 years I have smoked) then they suck. So, not only has quitting smoking taken all the joy out of drinking wine, and makes me smell every weird odor wafting through the universe, I now can't even eat junk food cause it tastes like shit.

Boooo.

Most of you would say, that's great, think about how skinny you'll be. Well, I personally love all food (or thought I did) and don't feel right about being a junkfoodist. I prefer to embrace all food types - but if they taste like licking the street, I'm going to have to put my foot down and pass.

The good news is, I really don't care about not smoking. Well, I miss it with all of my being and I feel like someone has ripped my best friend away from me and about every 4 minutes I say, "mmmm....a cigarette" but besides that, I am actually doing o.k. - it's kind of nice to have some self control. No joking, it's the habit that I miss...my rituals. It's like a relationship ending where you have to learn to do things by yourself again but you know that eventually you'll be o.k. I guess I'm in breakup mode. Going through the stages of grief and apparently for my lack there of taste buds as well.

Back to vegging. Peace and love.

Day 4: It's Like Pizza Without the Roni

2008-09-12T12:14:00.000-04:00

So, I came to a very clear conclusion last night. Drinking, without smoking, is like pizza without pepperoni - not nearly as exciting.

I popped over to Holli's last night after gettin' my hair all did! Usually it's game night, too much wine and my hourly smoke breaks. Well, I got there late so there really wasn't much game time, I munched on a bunch of crap and then sipped on a glass of wine that I didn't really want to begin with. What's the point really? My entire existence has to right now be about will power so losing any by dabbling in the drink would therefore defeat the purpose and, really, wine without cigarettes just sucks so - I'll assume your smart enough to come to the conclusion that I did last night.

It's best to just go to bed early. Booo.

There has to be something exciting about quitting smoking (well besides the whole living crap) otherwise this might get old real quickly. I mean yes, lung capacity, clarity, breathing, life and the like are not to be under rated but I have a reputation to protect as the rallier. At this point I'm lucky if I can make it past 8 PM. Oh, and I'm itchy. Nowhere in my copious amounts of 'How to quit' lit did I see 'itching' as a side effect. Argh.

Oh, and I was told today that the nicotine is officially out of me so the rest is now just a battle of the wills. Have you met me? I have the self control of a Nat. This is where the hard stuff starts.

Christ, I just looked out my window, the leaves are starting to change. WTF?

Update: I started crying during lunch. Shit. I knew it was going to take a turn for the worse. My spinach salad really wasn't that bad!!

I don't know why....

2008-09-11T12:30:00.000-04:00

I started smoking.

I take that back, let's be honest, I come from 'addictive' genes - which basically means since conception I have had a hankering for all things bad for me. Opposed to the normal soul that dabbles, I tend to take all bad habits in like stray pets until my house is over run.

*Sigh* I digress.

The first time I smoked was sneaking a butt like - I don't know - in the first grade? From there it didn't exactly slow down and by the time I was 14, I was pretty much smoking full throttle. I can honestly say I never smoked because 'the cool kids were doing it' because well, I was the cool kid. I smoked because I took one drag and every little sensory in my being jumped up, started dancing and yelling "Me Likey, Me Likey, More More More!!" - and so it began. My relationship with cigarettes. To be truthful, my relationship with 'the drink' began around then as well. But we'll talk about the 'other woman' later.

Today is going o.k. Yesterday was rough. I had to get out of my skin and walk down to Meg's last night and by the time I got there I was for the most part twitching, out of my skin, and rambling on about nothing. By the time I left and the god babies distracted me from myself...I was o.k. - thank god for escapes. Today I am pounding water and cranberry juice because supposedly that helps to flush the nicotine out faster. I'll do whatever it takes.

I'm a bit lost really. I know it sounds childish or completely insane stating that I feel 'lost' without a cigarette but I feel like I have lost some of my character...Everyone has that one thing about themselves - a tick, a strut, a something. I always thought my smoking was my 'something'. I am sure my friends might disagree but for me - it's a smidge confusing. I don't know if that makes sense.

Anyway, today appears to be a better day. I feel a bit more alert, a tad less spacey and I am excited to be in my 72 hour zone. I just keep thinking about my god babies, sappy, yes, true, yes. I want to see them all get married and be the crazy embarrassing aunt at their weddings. I want to be the one that they call when they hate their mother or when they need advice that only an overly doting and completely biased aunt can give. Because I want those things, this torture is for the most part, worth it.

Back to work. Thanks for listening.

Day 2 - The Big Ugh

2008-09-10T11:06:00.000-04:00

Today is hard. It's the sleepiness (and the annoying headaches - I don't like headaches). I realized that my smoke breaks were also about getting some air and getting away from the computer (as much as I was also polluting my lungs and the air around me). They were my mid morning and mid afternoon wake ups. Must find alternate solution and please don't tell me to eat almonds - they don't work.

I want a cigarette. I won't have one. But I want one. 72 hours...just need to get through the first 72 hours...tonight I'll be almost there...by tomorrow night, I'll have made it. Baby steps. Little goals.

I read a bunch of sites last night to just appease myself. Don't do this, do that, blah blah. Some I agree with - most of it's just about the self, will power and habits - most of it's bullshit. If you want to quit, you'll quit. Period. I don't think anyone actually believes that I will do this, or that I can do this - which makes me want to do it all the more.

Can crabbiness set in this early? Hmmmm

Hours later: The rationalizations have started:

Nobody will know
I'll just have one
Maybe just a drag
Perhaps I just should just allow myself one or two a day - be realistic about it
I think I'm feeling better today - maybe I just needed rest, not to quit completely

Basically, you name it and I'm saying it to myself. Move a muscle, change a thought, must go dancing. Stat.

Day 1

2008-09-09T23:12:00.000-04:00

Well, if I am to be honest, I cried most of my way to work. I think the task of having to make the effort to be healthy is what is the most daunting. Let's be real, if copious amounts of wine and cigarettes would ensure eternal health, I'd be living in the fountain of each.

But alas, they do not.

The commute is going to be the hardest part. I have always had my before work and after work ritualistic smokes. SO, I have an idea. What about if I use that time to listen to books on tape? Podcasts? Perhaps teach myself a second language? I mean, my commute to work is about an hour...my commute home is anywhere from 1.5 to 2 hours so that's almost 3 (sometimes more) hours a day I could be educating myself on something besides how many puffs of a Parliament it takes to get to the filter. Which, in case you were wondering, I have never actually counted. I could be a friggin' genius by the time this whole process is said and done. I love my positive self talk when I pretend to actually be excited about something. It's all a farce...don't believe me for a second....books on tape or the education therein do not excite me. Period.

Fake it til you make it.

I don't want to stab anyone yet. I'll take that as a good sign. More to follow tonight when I've had a full day behind me.

Home - day over - a few observations:

I am very sleepy when I don't smoke
I am very sleepy when I don't smoke
I have a headache when I don't smoke
I am mildly distracted when I don't smoke
I can drive home from work and zone out listening to NPR - which is decent for distracting me from cravings, however it makes me sleepy
Did I mention that I am sleepy?

The perk is however that I am so sleepy that I have no desire to smoke -. Day 1 over. Going to sleep - cause I am sleepy.

Why Now?

2008-09-08T18:43:00.000-04:00

Before tomorrow begins I think it's important to put a few things into perspective for myself. Most importantly, why now?

Because tomorrow is a random Tuesday. I have a thing for random Tuesday's. If I wait for some momentous occasion then I will consistently find reasons and excuses to not quit. I haven't felt healthy in a long time. Everything is foggy, physically and mentally. I need for there to be a clearing. I need to take control of my health...now. I don't need anymore signs...I'm listening loud and clear. I get it.

To be honest, there is actually a bit of a pit in my stomach. Cigarettes have been there for me for more than half my life - through good times and in bad. We've laughed, we've cried. We've just been. It started with Marlboro Lights to Camel Lights, Marlboro Mediums, Marlboro Reds, Camel Straights - no filter (those were the London days) Djarum's and then finally, for about the past decade my beloved tried and true Parliament Lights. I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse but those around me have always been very accepting of my smoking - primarily because it's just always been a part of the Tarah 'package' - love me, love my cigarettes. I'm respectful about my smoking (as much as a smoker can be) and it's sort of always been a part of my personality. Maybe that's why it's never seemed like too big of a deal until this year, when for the first time, the physical manifestations of lack there of health seemed to start popping out.

This isn't going to be easy. I know that. I am very serious about my effort but I am also well aware that it's a process, not an event and there might be slip ups. This isn't just about quitting smoking, this is about making major life changes on numerous fronts. All of which I guess will slowly be revealed along the way. I have some goals - those are for me to know and nurture - I'll keep them for me unless there's something for me to celebrate and share. I don't want to be held accountable except to myself - everything must happen in its own time and its own way.

I'm hoping to make this process as fun as possible - with minimal psychosis. Here's to random Tuesday's and all that they might bring.

Cheerios!

It's Quittin' Time....

2008-09-08T13:00:00.000-04:00

I've been a smoker for over 20 years. When I write that it almost sickens me...that's a long time. I'm only 34. I don't know why today is different than any other day, I've just had it today. I have had a cough for a year, pneumonia 2x's this year, my chest is fucking killing me so well, when your body talks, its usually best to listen. It's not just smoking, it's the wine that accompanies my cigarettes. They both need to leave town for a bit and let me get back to just me, myself and I.

Here's the thing, I want to actually be around for a very long time - I may very well have missed my chance at that but it's high time I started to at least try to preserve myself? So, I've decided to write about 'The Quitting'. Chronicle it all for posterity and all that jazz. In the very least, use it as a source for venting what I predict to be a bit of a bumpy ride. I'm just hoping those around me come out of it all unscathed.

So tomorrow's the day. Bye bye Parliament's, my beloved and dedicated friend....I will miss you so.... More to follow.