The key to life…via Will Smith

Oh, Will Smith…you are really doing it for me right now.

Speaking of running…marathon training has started. That’s 26.2 miles, justsoyaknow. I did it last year…barely. Now I’ve committed myself again…no thanks to a certain Wolf Shorty out there 😉

Here’s to 4 months of running…a shit ton. This time I’m cross training to avoid the 13 extra pounds that snuck their way onto my hips, buttocks, and thighs. Keep the goldfish (cracker not the fish) away from me, I’m on a mission to get lean this time.

Yours taking advice from a Man in Black,

25swf

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Guest Blogger – 1foot: QUITTER

(This post is part of an awesome series of awesome 25swf guest bloggers- read about them here!)

A wise soul told me that “Women all around the world have been giving up things they love since forever in order to protect themselves and their hearts.” What makes me any different?

I’ve been in the process of  starting a nonprofit with ___ and some good friends for about two years. I love it, and I love our mission, and I love the people I was working with, but… I didn’t love the fact that I saw him all the dang time. Or that anytime I got free time, I was spending it working on bylaws, or going to meetings, or planning events, and I wasn’t enjoying it as much as I wanted to. Also, there happen to be a lot of new things cropping up in my life that I would rather devote my attention to.

So I decided to quit.

It was an incredibly difficult decision. I don’t like quitting things, and I tend to stick with something until it makes me really unhappy, or dies away. I decided to preempt some of that.

I met with our Chair and spoke to him in person about my decision and my reasoning, and he agreed, and it went really smoothly. When I got home, I emailed the group (including ___) a concise explanation of my decision and how much I would miss the group.

Cue relief, and a movie for relaxation.

Only… 1.5 hours later…

I get a phone call. Guess who.

“I just got your email. I just wanted to say… I mean I understand your reasons, and I’m happy for you, I guess I just wanted to call because, well, this group is kind of the only thing that’s been keeping us in contact, and it feels like without it, we won’t be seeing each other for a while, and I just didn’t think we should leave it at an email between us. I’m not really sure why I’m calling. I guess I just hope that the reasons you listed in your email are true. I mean, I know they’re true, but I just feel like I’m part of your reasons for quitting, and I’ve been thinking of quitting too, but I just want to make sure that you’re actually going on to better things, and that I just, I hope I didn’t make things too hard on you. And I want to know what you’re doing, I want to know what your new plans are. I just hope that you’re doing okay. You know you don’t give me enough credit for how much I care about you. ”

It went on like that for about 5 minutes before he paused to let me respond. It ended up being about a 30 minute conversation. For brevity’s sake, I’ll just say that in the end, I was able to get a few things off my chest that I had been wanting to for a long time. And I was able to end the conversation by telling him that I didn’t want to see him, or have him contact me, or work with him. Not for forever, just until I can get into a frame of mind that doesn’t involve me thinking about him every day.

It felt like a post-breakup breakup, and it felt like I had finally taken the power in my life and made a concrete decision that has helped me get into a better frame of mind. I finally took a positive step in the direction of my own goals and dreams, and it feels really, really good.

And in the end, quitting wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. It was hard, but I don’t feel like people are judging me for stepping down. I actually feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders, and I can really focus on learning new things and not being held back by others’ perceptions.

byebye,

1foot

New York, I <3 You!

One day I will be writing a letter and it will come to part where I write my return address. The letters will flow from my finger tips…Brooklyn, New York. Ahhhhhhh. Rolling in like ink thunder…Brooklyn, New York.

I’ve been dreaming of New York a lot lately. Mostly due to the fact that it’s become increasingly obvious that my current job situation is about as dead-end as they come. I am not challenging myself and I’m surely stunting my growth. But it’s great for me right now…but in a year, not so much. So my new goal. To move to New York in the fall of 2012.

Why do I love New York?

It’s scares the shit out of me and intrigues me. It makes me feel large and small at the same time. It doesn’t go to sleep.

To me, it’s the ultimate challenge to move away from everything comforting into a new place with new people and new dreams.

The whole two times I’ve sunk my teeth into the Big Apple I felt so at home there. Somehow I don’t get lost (which is a miracle in itself).

I feel like New York and I would get along really well. I daydream about my life there…I would fall in love with my work and the smelly, schizophrenic city.

New York is magical. Growing up I always thought of it as some kind of far away land where dreams happened. Hollywood and my mom contributed to my self-perpetuated delusions.

My mom would tell me stories of her days living there. She was a costumer and worked for CATS. Everyone told her not to move out there, that she wouldn’t find a job. She found a job in 2 weeks with the Shakespeare in the Park, which (apparently) is (or was) a big deal for theatre folk. From there, she got the job on CATS. She moved back to Oklahoma to take care of my grandmother who was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, but she was doing really well before she had to leave.

I’ll probably be alone in New York although I’d greatly prefer to have someone to share it with.

What I really want is to wake up on a Sunday and go buy flowers for myself from the shop that sits below me… and then get an egg sandwich, and sit on my shitty balcony eating the deliriously delicious egg sandwich with my happy flowers, and a big glass of orange juice (freshly picked and squeezed, please).

And then I will sing this song along with Liza while I read the New Yorker…

bubble battle new york

see how much fun this looks!

I also want to go to the Bubble Battle…holy hell. And most the time, if not all, New York has something amazing going on. Sure, I realize I will be poor and practically homeless on a month-to-month basis, but it’s happening around me…it’s the energy. And who knows, maybe I won’t be as Pauperella as I suspect, maybe I will have a little money to go and do something every once n’while.

So what jobs could I possibly want in New York? I have a list so here we go:

  1. Focus Features (I’ll be the mail girl for christ’s sake…just gimme a jooob)
  2. HBO Productions (everyone has mail)
  3. Kickstarter (project manager, yessss)
  4. Vimeo (I’d rock anything that needs to be produced/organized)
  5. Etsy (apparently one of the funnest companies to work for…I can have fun)
  6. Women Make Movies (gimme something to manage, communicate, or organize and I’ll rock it)

All I ask, New York, is that I just don’t want to end up heartbroken like Barbara in Funny Girl. Such a great movie.

And these are just some of the reasons that I love New York.

I daydream about it. When the harsh Oklahoma winter winds slaps me in the face I (literally) think to myself, “Bring it…You’ve got nothin’ on New York baby.”

Is that weird?

Maybe a little.

Matt and Kim, take us out…

Yours with a Big Apple dream that will be ready for pickin’ come fall 2012,

25swf

Do something impossible

It’s really important to me to challenge myself.

Think of something you feel would be impossible for you to do. I’m not talking the kind of impossible that requires astrophysics or bringing back the dead all Necromacer style…but just something that you never in a million years think that you could do.

For me, that was running a marathon.

I truly believed I never could do it. Even during training, I was mindlessly running towards a big question mark. I was afraid I would fail, but I said…oh hey, what the heck, all my best stories come from failure anyways, so let’s do this. And I did it. And it hurt. And it was hilarious.

It rained from the beginning…the race start time was pushed back 30 minutes to 7:00am. But it didn’t matter, it was still raining. The rain went away for all of 10 minutes around mile 17, and then it came back with 40 degree winds and hail. Point being, it sucked. But I had Wolf Shorty there by my side to feel the pain and laugh with with me when pellets of ice came shooting from the sky. Between her hobbling hip and my cough & cold, we were already falling apart. And the rain, hail, 40 degrees was just a really good joke at a certain point.

I do have to say that it super helped to have Mr. M and 1foot weathering the weather, and holding up their hand-made signs that said, “You run good!” to move my ass along. But when I got back and peeled off my clothes with numb fingers I noticed something weird…my feet were blue. Blue. Not bluish…BLUE. Hypothermia was probably in my near future.

But my point is really that we should all do more things we find impossible. I think I’m going to make a list. Fuck bucket lists. That just sounds stupid, I’m sorry. I’m talking about a Master of Impossibilities List. It’s just a dramatic way of saying “crazy ass goals,” s’all really.

Now what should I put on my fancy sounding list…I’m thinking something like…

-Move to New York in Fall 2012 and Rock It. Be super successful (by my terms) in 2 years! So by the time I’m 29 I should be super duper proud of myself!

-Get a job at Kickstarter and rock it!

-Produce a movie that premieres at Sundance Film Festival and gets picked up by Focus Features. Yay! And then rock it.

-Go to Cannes Film Festival in 2012 as an American Pavilion mentor with my two lady friends, and (of course) rock it.

Yours always adding to the list and attempting to rock it,

25swf

Premonition

I would never call myself a psychic, or clairvoyant. Sometimes I think I know what’s going to happen, but that’s just because (sometimes) I’m good at putting the pieces of the puzzle together. Like a detective. Or Veronica Mars. I’ve been known to predict things. Not totally off the wall things, but just things. Nothing in the same vein of Cordelia in Angel, thank god.

Sometimes when I “predict” something it’s just something I say out loud, that I think is going to happen. And then other times it comes from a dream.

In the past year my dreams have been few and far between. I usually dream frequently and vividly. And when I’m not dreaming (or remember my dreams, rather), I know something is wrong.

But I had a dream the other night.

And it just came true.

The dream was that I was at MF’s parent’s house. It wasn’t really their house, but I knew it was where his parent’s lived. It was a situation where I kind of just ran into them. His dad was trying to give me a bed Snuggie, I don’t know what that it is or why that was happening. But that’s how his dad is, very giving. And then his sister said to me, “You forgot the glass door knobs MF gave you as a Christmas present from St. Louis.” “Door knobs, I asked?” “Yeah the box of door knobs; they are in the garage.” And she led me into the garage. He wasn’t around and I wasn’t scared of running into him or anything. I followed her.

In the garage there were tons of black cats. His sister started spraying them with this flea medicine and they were flying across the floor. It was really funny looking. Then she handed me the box.

glass door knobsI opened it. Inside were a handful of door knobs, both the fronts and backs. I didn’t count, but there were either 2 or 3. I instantly remembered them. Ah, yes! The door knobs! I was so happy she had gotten them back to me. His mom walked in, she was kind of glaring at me. It felt like she was mad at me for breaking up with MF. Like I had broken his heart. Ha!

She mumbled something about the door knobs I had forgotten and then she said there was some stuff I left in the other room, in a closet. I went in there by myself and opened the door. It was a small closet. Sure enough there was a bunch of my belongings. Mainly jewelry. I was puzzled as to how I had left all of this. I became anxious because I didn’t have any bags with me to carry it all. I started putting some of it into the box and then I woke up.

When I woke up I was so freaked out. Were the door knobs real? If so, where were they? Where did I leave them? They felt SO real. I wrote the dream down in a book because I was so startled by its meaning. After 5 minutes or so of pondering the true existence of said door knobs, I came to the conclusion that they were, in fact, NOT real. And MF had never given me them.

Or did he?

Those door knobs were a gift. Here are the knobs, you can move on now, walk through the next door. You have everything you need. Just decide where you want to go. He was allowing me move on. He was giving me peace. That’s what I decided it all meant. I wrote that down too.

I had this dream on Thursday of last week. It’s Sunday. Last night I slept the worse I have in probably 8 months. I didn’t really sleep, just half slept. Laying there, my brain running around in circles. It may have been the 17 miles I ran earlier that day, or the 2 and 1/2 Coke’s I consumed. I’m not sure…It may have been the feeling that something was about to happen.

After months of the last MF communication being “I needed more time” via a shitty text message. I had an email waiting in my inbox.

And rather than summarizing it, I’m just going to post the whole thing here, typos n’all. I thought about it and there’s no reason not to. This is my story, and this is a part of it.

Written at 4:06am:

Can we please not hate each other? Last year was an extreme transition in my life. I know were not compatible but I would like to hang out with you as friends if we can. Maybe for dinner? I don’t expect you to understand. It’s something you can’t experience until you are in the position t experience it. I know in your eyes I fucked up majorly. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you. Honestly. However, I have never met someone I’m compatible with on a friend level as much as you. I respect you and want to be friends with you. If you hate me I understand. But please understand that while we were together, I was in a transition in my life I could have never seen coming or have experienced. It sucked. Seriously it sucked. I miss Alaska. I know as a couple we suck but can we be friends? Would you like to have lunch or dinner for an hour? I understand you hate me and you have every right to, but please understand that I was half the person I am. The person you liked is who I am. I was in a complete transitional period and I was incomplete. I know as a couple we probably aren’t meant to be, but a friends I truly believe we are. I hope you are well.

Best,

(signed his initial)

And there it is. My door knobs. I got chills reading his email. And after the chills stopped, I got them again. I felt cold. I can’t get warm.

But I don’t know what to do. I need to think about this one. Do I even want to go there? Do I want to see him. It will probably hurt. Or maybe it won’t.

In the past when I’ve confronted my fears I’ve always been rewarded. They aren’t such a big deal anymore. It’s like looking under your bed. There’s nothing really there; and now that you’ve looked, you can finally go to sleep.

Thinking about looking is giving me goosebumps again. Damnit I’m going to have to shave my legs again.

I have to figure out what kind of doors I want these glass knobs to be on. Where do I want to walk through to next?

Right now these are the jumbled thoughts in my head:

-Was he drunk when he wrote this? Why 4:04am? Why did he mention he missed Alaska. He always stays up late, but there are a lot of typos. Then again, he always had a lot of typos in his emails.

-Of course he’s messaging me, I’m so happy right now.

-His girlfriend probably broke up with him or they are having problems. Thus, I am on his mind.

-He’s reminiscing and making the past seem rosier than it was.

-He’s missing me. Feeling guilty and wants me to give him peace.

-He’s being a mind fuck.

-He’s just trying to find closure.

-What am I going to do about this? If I meet him, what will we talk about? What would I be getting myself into? Is he in a relationship still? I don’t want to meet him if he is. That always bothered me. He met his ex-fiance a few times when we first started dating. It was awful for me.

-If I don’t meet him will I still think about him like I do? Could I just email him back and tell him that I forgive him and I think we should both just move on.

-Does he deserve my friendship? What kind of friendship could we ever have?

-If I met him, I could confront my fear. I wouldn’t be anxious about running into him. I would make it clear that we couldn’t “hang out” or do stuff like normal friends. That us meeting this time would be a closure meeting. And it would be The End.

Yours unsure of my next steps,

25swf