Category Archives: 30 somethings

Did I spell rong wrong?

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I’ve been trying to put my finger on what exactly has been wrong lately, and somehow…I can’t.red-quote

There is no big bad wolf knocking at my door, no financial crisis lurking around the corner, no extreme loneliness, no terrible boss, no family drama, no pet crisis, no major health scares. Things are more together than they have been in a really long time…and once in awhile, one in a blue moon, I think THAT is the problem.

I’ve been fighting my demons as I age. They say your 30’s are actually the greatest decade, and truthfully I believe it. I’ve been navigating my way through the unknown and learning to give the finger to more of what doesn’t work in my world. The thing is, the more I give the finger to things and the deeper I root myself into my little world…the further I drift away from all those someday dreams I used to have. Someday wedding, someday house, someday trip, someday career…

As I get older and make rash decisions my chances for somedays get smaller. Now, don’t get me wrong, I wanted to live in this world. The present, the real, the everyday…and most days it’s a great world to live in. Understand and appreciate what you do have, just don’t think about the rest…but every once in awhile…every once in panic-inducing while…something feels wrong.

I have always struggled with the thought that something feeling wrong meant something in your life was actually…wrong. I didn’t understand that as a human I would have good days and bad, secure and insecure moments and would feel “that” feeling in the pit of my stomach, pushing up against my lungs…for many reasons other than actual hardship.

A big meeting, a hard test, a first kiss…these can all create those feelings. So, lately…when they creep up…I need to fight the urge to assume something is actually out of place in my world and needs fixing. I need to accept the fact that it’s okay to feel bad when you send a cat to the shelter or let a new crush down. It’s okay to feel bad when you can’t afford your vacation or you get dis-invited to a cottage because they over counted. It’s okay to feel bad. Hell, it’s okay to feel.

So, as I struggle to figure out what exactly is wrong…I think the answer is nothing. Nothing is wrong, other than my inability to feel bad without feeling wrong. And frankly, that in itself is what is wrong.

Life is Messy.  It Kicks you in the Ass. That’s right, I said Ass.  But, it does, it kicks you in the ass.  And the messy parts are the best parts. – Jess, New Girl

The Ginga Ninja

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Life in a Nutshell or Nuthouse?

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squirrel_600__18845-1431804042-190-250When oh when will the day come where I become that person I always wanted to be? I won’t second guess, I won’t make decisions for the wrong reasons, well better yet, I’ll only make the right decisions and I’ll always put myself first. When will my pride outweigh my humiliation, when will my choices always make me feel good, when will my decisiveness outweigh my doubts? No falters, no fear, no regret and certainly no embarrassment.

The problem is, that is the version of life I was very stupidly trying to attain, hell, I think many people were. You think if you follow a certain series of steps, benchmarks, events, milestones and mentors that you won’t question your outcomes, avenues, wealth or worth.

Unfortunately being human means being imperfect and being imperfect means you will never ever make the right decision or have the right reaction in every situation. In a bad mood you may yell at your cat, when feeling ansy you may have one beer to many, you may text back too fast, you may call back too slow, you may talk to the wrong boy, you may marry the wrong girl. You may make a poor financial decision, find yourself let go from a job, burn the lawn, burn your mind, overdo narcotics, hell, overdo sports, alienate your friends, lose your dog, lose your mind. People aren’t perfect, plain and simple, people screw up.

So, each time I think “why did I do that?” or think that if only I had done something differently, or hell could have crazy-alarm-clockchanged the outcome…I have to realize that life is full of twists and turns. And you know what…it’s not where you land that make it life, it’s those windy passages along the way. The learning of a new lesson, finding a new bar, making a new friend, discovering a new passion, removing burdens, discarding demons, realizing that you can mess up and still stand…that, in a nutshell my friend, is life.

The only road to happiness is to realize there is no Road to Happiness – Robin Williams, A Merry Friggen Christmas

35 Reasons to Give up…or Give in…and Dance.

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Something is bothering me, and I can’t quite put my finger on it.

Whether the weather (hehe), the fact I still haven’t lost those 10 lbs, my fear over letting myself go in love and trust, or maybe plain and simply that I’m turning 35 is the culprit. There, I said it, an actuality that never seemed possible is happening – I can no longer pretend to be a child, or tell myself I have more time to figure it all out…for quite a while now, but particularly in the next 5 days – my need to be the person I’m supposed to be is now. Asthma, panic, wandering mind…you name it, but whatever has set in is settling in and nothing aside from exercise, hot baths, tears, or maybe some xanax could fix it.

This all sounds a little drastic, 35 is the new 25 and you are only as old as you feel…yada yadagettingold yada…it’s not really that old, when I was your age…you name your cliche. And until right this moment I didn’t think it was a problem. Then again, the end of the summer always causes my little Virgo brain to wander and worry. Cold nights, overcast days, a +1 to that age and even snowflakes are coming. Hell, with how I’m describing it, one would think I’m in Winterfell (Game of Thrones reference for those non-nerds out there).

But so on, and so forth this is life. This is all that is life. And this is a feeling I haven’t had in awhile. One I don’t like, one I don’t need, but maybe one that needs to happen to constantly grow. So, I’ll take a swig of beer, apartment dance my face off and remember, well, I’ll probably feel just like this one year from now. And a friend of mine, well, she is also facing this conundrum and facing it well. In her own right she realized that each and every year you could write a list of things you need to do, should do, should at least start, or at least start thinking about… or you could write a list of things you already have. So, alright 35, let’s do this, like she is doing 34 in style.

“Being a grown-up is hard. Like, all my passwords have to have at least eight characters and uppercase letters now. I don’t think a ton of people are trying to break into my account just to pay my gas bill.  We should be able to have easier passwords.” – Kate, Garfunkel & Oates

The Ginga Ninja

Is Beauty Perfection, or just Definition…

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Do you ever feel imperfect?  Your abs are a keg, your hair is a cyclone, and your skin looks like a connect the dots? Trust, me, you aren’t alone.  Even those paid to be perfect are imperfect – the forced weight loss, cosmetic surgery, and botched liposuction are proof of this. Mickey Rourke is unrecognizable, Tara Reid’s stomach is from a horror movie, and even Kathy Ireland is now sporting a bonafide gut.

This is a flashback to that moment 8 years ago when I was the skinniest of my adult life, had perky boobs, silky hair and didn’t realize that the freckly girl I saw in the mirror may not actually be who still stared back…I want to say thank you to my old co-worker who got me drunk  and said, “are you blind, you are HOT”.

So for all those times you feel imperfect, remember you are unbelieveably, unremarkably not uniqBeauty-is-in-the-eye-of-the-beholder-and-it-may-be-necessary-from-time-to-time-to-give-a-stupid-or-misinformed-beholder-a-black-eye.ue in this. You are far less unspecial then you make yourself out to be, in fact, you are just like everybody else. Maybe some hide it better, maybe some days are worse, but nobody is perfect…perfectly flawed perhaps.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, sometimes the beholder just isn’t you…and thank god for that.

Am I faithful, am I strong, am I good enough to belong? In your reverie of a perfect girl? – Sarah MacLachlan

The Ginga Ninja

Cyclical Life…

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Hmmm. The wheels in this head have been turning (a dangerous pastime I know). God, I hope somebody out therethe_red_bicycle picked up the Beauty & the Beast reference. Anyway, it’s kind of strange how many things in life are cyclical in nature – the seasons, our social lives, aging, and well…sadly, breakups too.

It’s always been amazing to me how I can feel soooo strange when the seasons change, kind of like a stranger in my own surroundings. I always feel like something is incomplete, something is still coming and there is something whistful and bittersweet about another year that comes and goes, ebbs and flows. BUT, I realize (in reminiscing by reading my old creepy journals), I feel like this every single year. Oh damn, so not even original in my very own life.

I need to remind myself that this weird, thoughtful, almost unexplainable feeling…has happened before and it will happen again. And for anybody joining this conversation late, I just defined the meaning of cyclical.

And ya know what? Feeling the passing of the seasons over and over again isn’t the only thing that reoccurs. I have clued in to the fact that when you are a child you have organization, rules and timelines. You wake up early, go to school, do your homework, go to bed. Life can be fun, but super routine.

As you get older and you start to make friends, you go to their houses, watch movies, get takeout and eventually start throwing raging house parties (or at least pretend to unless you are blessed to be a popular kid). A few years later you try out pubs, bars, expensive restaurants, musicals, brunches and even trendy clubs. Now you know you have made it…THIS is the cool version of life you couldn’t wait to fast-forward to when you bored and sitting in your parents’ basement. Finally kid, you can say you made it.

However….a few years go by and you begin to watch your debt grow as you accumulate assets and realize that you appreciate your friends more than strangers, some good music more than a cramped bar and hanging around in your sweatpa blue jeans more than stilettos. You can afford nice groceries and have learned to cook, preserve, bottle, marinate, ferment, so what surfaces once again? Movies, pre-drinking and houseparties: The Sequel.

Sadly enough, many may even bypass this version of life and go straight to married with a mortgage and (gasp), children. These people then return right back to waking up early, going to work, helping your kids with their homework, and going to bed….

So, this thoughtful red lass can’t help but notice, for all of those out there constantly trying to reach that next goal, benchmark, stone, phase, manic breakdown…remember…well, everything that goes will come again and every feeling you overcome will be back. There is no such thing as perfect and there is no such thing as complete, so I’ll leave you with this deep thought:

Man appears for a little while to laugh and weep, to work and play, and then to go to make room for those who shall follow him in the never-ending cycle. – Aiden Wilson Tozer

….And this funny one:

The most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. I mean, life is tough. It takes up a lot of your time. What do you get at the end of it? A Death! What’s that, a bonus? I think the life cycle is all backwards. You should die first; get it out of the way. Then you live in an old age home. You get kicked out when you’re too young, you get a gold watch, you go to work. You work forty years until you’re young enough to enjoy your retirement. You do drugs, alcohol, you party, you get ready for high school. You go to grade school, you become a kid, you play, you have no responsibilities, you become a little baby, you go back into the womb, you spend your last nine months floating…and you finish off as an orgasm.” – George Carlin

That’s the thing about this bicycle we call life; it’s not that easy to get off.

The Ginga Ninja

 

How many is too many?

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Bn1JDETIIAE38X1I’m no player, but not too long ago I was talking to three different guys at the same time. Having been a boyfriend kind of girl, this pseudo Sex and the City world is a bit foreign to me. Normally, it is only when I’m a little bit off and am “getting back out there”, or when I’m completely confident and don’t give a shit that things like this tend to happen. When you don’t know what you want, you go on dates just to push your boundaries, when you totally know what you want, well, you go on dates because you have nothing to lose. The worst part is, sometimes I could leave it as easily as I could take it.

When I’m content in my own skin, in my own place, with my own hobbies, and my own friends…I am not worried about meeting anyone. That’s actually when I seem to attract. However, the funniest part is that right when you feel you are at the top of your game and you are fine with or without another, that’s when people come along to jack your style. You don’t have time for nobodies, time-wasters, and bloody poor kissers. You barely have time for you.

All that being said, you still glance down at that biological clock and think, but if not now, when. Like Rachel lamented in Friends (when she was 30 dating a 25 year old)…well, I want a kid by 35, which means probably getting pregnant at 34. I’d like to be married for about a year first, which means 33, and I want a 1 year engagement, which is 32 and I’d like to know the guy a couple of years first…which makes me 30. Suddenly, in that moment, she decides that she needs to dump her dead-end boy toy because to have the life she wants, she can’t keep living the life she likes.

But, what if you want to be in that “date for the heck of it”, or “don’t date at all” phase? Do you need to look at the clock? Do you need to do Benjamin Button backward math and do you need to worry?

All I know is when I lamented to a co-worker that I can’t possibly talk to 3 people at once, I am not cool enough, am not saucy enough and cannot find the time….she asked to see their pictures. Pretty much I received a slap upside the head.

She insisted they were all cute, fit…and she had been with her husband for about 20 years now. My young, early 30’s #firstworldproblems were in fact not problems. She begged me to go on all the dates, tell her all the stories and let her live vicariously through me. No matter how old (or young) you are…the trials of dating are trials for life…and the trials of dating while you don’t give a shit are in fact not trials…not too short, too tall, too hyper, too game show host, too cheap, too ethnic…but, shirtless, employed, date-paying opportunities that really you need to embrace and learn from.

Don’t look at every situation as life and death or every date as forever…but relish in the opportunities you will have. And if you have 1, 2, 9 at once…figure you will know the right one when you know the right one…or if you don’t, then maybe you don’t need a right one at all. Maybe, just maybe you are  looking at the right one every day in the mirror. Anything above that is just a perk in this thing we call life.

The Ginga Ninja

Nostalgia or Nutstalgia?

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When you were an eager little youngster, you watched all genres of movies and listened to countless songs without really understanding what it is you were listening for.  Most Disney movies have sexual inuendos, adult jokes and hidden plot lines that kids just don’t seem to get.  You think your family puts the FUN in DYSFUNCTION?  If you want to talk about family drama, well Snow White, Cinderella and Lion King are filled to the brim.  Children don’t stop to think about what is actually happening and what it means when your stepmother or brother tries to kill you – you know, brotherly love & murder very seldom mesh well.  Just my opinion, but hey.

What I’ve noticed more than ever is how many poems and songs I just didn’t understand.  We danced to the beat, we recited the poetry; we sang those nonsensical lyrics and didn’t have a damn idea why.  I mean, sure, we all don’t like Mondays, but it takes being an adult to truly grasp that reality.  And the first time you really listen, I mean REALLY listen to a song about suicide or rape as an adult, you suddenly realize this is no longer just a lyric or plot line, but something you have (in some degree) probably lived through.  Most of us by a certain age have either gone through some psychological issues or shouldered a friend (or seven) through depression.  It’s not funny, it’ not fun…it’s touching, it’s hard and the lyrics are most likely written by somebody who has actually gone through it too.

That got me thinking. All of those songs put out by angst-ridden female artists of the 1990’s, Natalie Imbruglia, Sarah Mclachlan, Jewel….they finally make sense.  All those dilemmas they had about love lost, starting over, being out of tears, staring at their eggs or aimlessly walking into movie theatres alone finally make sense.  You don’t do these things in your childhood, you don’t really do them in your teens, you don’t understand them in you 20’s, but by your 30’s you’ve finally lived and learned from similar scenarios.  You do realize dreams only last for so long, people can leave you torn and there is a chance you have gone down on someone in a movie theatre.  Graphic maybe…but, possible?

I don’t want to say being an adult is sadder; I just want to say that some of the farcical nonsense of those lyrics finally make sense.  Most songs and movies finally make sense.  Like when my girl Alanis Morisette said she had one hand in her pocket and the other giving a high five…I had no damn idea what the hell she was talking about.  The entire song just seemed like a list of opposites and non-rhyming words…a bit of a scattered attempt at songwriting in my opinion.  I didn’t get it back then, but now I do. It’s about being many things at once, trying to make it all fit together and finally understanding that you do everything a little half-assed…you are a little bit of many things, but you accept it.  You CAN be two exactly opposite things at the same time and funnily enough, be perfectly okay with it. Like my girl Alanis says, everything’s gonna be fine, fine, fine1460-cherry

The Ginga Ninja