Don’t blink, or you might miss it.

This past spring and early summer has led me to places I’d never thought I’d end up. Mostly I’m referring to a mental state. I’ve been stretched beyond my means only to realize just how easily I fall back into shape, still a little stretched out but able to function all the same. And all of it has led me to right now. Big things are days away and I am ever so very much excited.

May grabbed my heart and jerked me around by it, seeing how far I could go before I would come close to breaking. And I’ve got to tell you, I can go pretty fucking far. 8 hours by car from home to be exact. I went to visit friends twice in May, both times in the same city. The second time however sent me running back to Austin with the feeling of having been punched violently in the stomach. When in all honesty, I’m willing to bet that getting actually punched would have hurt less than the feeling I had when I drove back to Austin the second time in May.

Just the same though, it was those two trips away from Austin that made me realize something about my little city in which I live. Something I think I’ve known for awhile, but wasn’t really willing to look at and acknowledge, at least not look it in the eye. You know how you’re on a date with the perfect man, he’s everything you’ve ever wanted, and he is charming, cultured, gorgeous, smart, etc but yet you are kicking yourself because you just don’t feel that spark. There’s a lack of butterflies in the stomach. And while it’s easy to shrug and say “I don’t need butterflies” eventually boredom sets in and you realize that butterflies in the belly really are the bees knees. Well both trips from Austin made me realize that Austin was lacking the butterflies in the belly that I had been missing.

With that said… I made one last trip from Austin, looking to confirm what I had feared to be true. But just the same I wasn’t all that afraid of not living in Austin. I was excited about what would come next. I’m excited about my new apartment. I’m excited about the new people I’ve already met in this city that has already shaken, rattled, and rolled me. It’s all falling into place, and sometimes it doesn’t even feel like I’m living it, but instead just watching it all happen. Sitting back, smiling, and enjoying it all.

But for now. In this moment. I am in Missouri. Sitting on my childhood bed, typing these words. Waiting for laundry so I can pack my suitcase to go back to my home in Austin one last time. Tomorrow night I’ll get back to Austin to pack. And by pack, I mean pack really fast. Because boys and girls, come Wednesday, I will live in New Olreans, La.

Funny the way things happen.

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In the mess of it all

I spend so much of my life worrying if what I’m doing is the right thing. And even if it’s not, will it ultimately help me get what I want. If I do X & Y, will it help me get Z? I’ve never really known what I wanted to do with my life. I mean maybe when I was a kid, I knew I wanted to be a writer. But other than that, I never really knew what I wanted to do. I never had one college major in mind. I honestly think I changed majors three times my first semester in college. I never could have known then that it didn’t really matter. It always left me kind of feeling like I was either really lost, or going with the wind.

I did a year of film school in college, and actually got a diploma from that. I thought that if I could dedicate myself to one thing, maybe I’d like it and it would work out to be something I could live with. And so far film is really one of the few things in my life that I keep trying to get away from, and it keeps finding its way back to me.

When I was living in North Carolina, I had my whole life planned out. The next two years would go exactly as I planned. I had several intricate steps planned out to perfect timing. Each step would help me succeed in what I wanted to do. Regardless of whether or not I even knew what that was. I was going to go to Mexico for five weeks. And if I got back in Raleigh at this time, and then I had my friend pick me up before 1 am, we’d get back to Wilmington by 4 or 5 am, I’d have enough time to change clothes, stop by my apartment, and eat breakfast, before the last mandatory transfer orientation at 8. Then at 3 after the orientation I would go to the DMV to get my suspended license back. Then the next day I would start class. Taking 15 hours, so I could graduate after 4 semesters at the University. It was all planned out so perfectly. It would all happen. Now if only I’d planned on things not going exactly as I’d planned them. Funny how that thought had never entered into my head. It was only after I’d made so many exact plans that the rug was pulled from under my feet. I hadn’t gotten into the University. For days, I was stuck with this question of “Now what” and I honestly had no clue. My mother wanted me to stay in North Carolina and work until I got into school. I wanted to move somewhere new and work. But I also knew I wanted a college degree. And I felt like the two options I was seeing couldn’t give me anything that would make me happy.

So out of simple curiosity I called the University back home that I’d started at. And they said they’d be glad to have me back, just have my transcripts sent over, and I could apply for classes the day they got my transcripts. It sounded so easy. And it really was. All I would have to do is pack everything I had into a truck and move it home. Except it wasn’t that easy. I’d built an entire life that I was just going to leave behind. But I was doing it because I knew a college degree would make me happy. And I knew I wanted a college degree, sooner rather than later.

Even being back home, I wasn’t happy. And I hated school. I hated that I was there. More often than not it was hard to remember that I’d chosen to go back there. But I did finish. And the feeling I did have when I FINALLY graduated was happiness. I’d done it.

Now I’m in Austin, looking for a job. I know that having money coming in will make me happy. I also know that I’m a writer. Lastly, I know writers don’t always make much. So do I write? Or do I get a real job? I know people say you can do both, but I have my reservations. I think to really do something; you need to dedicate your entire being to it. Easier said than done.

I’ve been feeling kinda crappy lately. No job. Not a lot going on. I spend a lot of time bored. But last night, on a whim. I hit downtown Austin, I drank margaritas in the company of people. And even did a shot or two of tequila. Tricky little devil that drink is, but just the same it was good. It was nice to spend a few moments not worrying about whether or not me being downtown was a good idea. Or whether or not my shirt was too low cut. What would the people thing? Not worrying about any of it, made everything so much easier. I think I just need to stop worrying about what’s going to happen to me. I mean I really can only do so much to change a current situation and that’s the only thing I can do. Focus on me now. What am I doing now and do I enjoy whatever it is that I’m doing.