Right Now.

I spend a hell of a lot of time thinking about what I want out of my life. Specifically what things will make me look forward to getting out of bed in the morning. What do I want to accomplish today, this week, this year, in the next 5 years?more often than not, my mind is blank. So many people my age are set in their careers/their significant others/ kids/all of the above. I am all for a career and love. I just don’t quite know what those things look like for me. I have been attempting to reprogram my brain to not need a plan/structure/schedule. To stop thinking ‘I should be doing....’ whenever I am doing, well, anything. Because yes, no matter what I’m doing I think I ought to be spending my time in a more productive way. 

In my last relationship...so like 14 years ago, I remember waking up one morning with our arms wrapped around each other and thinking ‘I should get up and get this day started...weekends are so short...gotta wash my hair and eat bacon’. Real important stuff to get out of bed for. And then I had this thought: Why in the world would I untangle myself from these sheets and the man I love when this exact moment of pure bliss is what life is all about? This is the goal. Chasing happiness and having a schedule do so often cause us to miss the joy in the here and now—the contentment in the journey that is life. 

It just seems like such a simple concept, to stop worrying. Live your days without the stress or anxiety that only make you suffer and don’t help to get anything done. What if I could take the moments where I worry that my time could be better spent, and turn them into this-is-what-I-live-for moments? I have a tattoo on my arm that says ‘right now’. Of course it’s on my right arm so sometimes when people ask me about it I joke and tell them it’s so I remember my right from my left. Sometimes I do tell them what it really means.  I got it to remind me to live in the moment rather than constantly worrying about the future or dwelling in the past. I am still terrible at this. No matter how many reminders I have of this concept, why is it so hard to live as if right now is the happiest moment in the happiest life? 

Box of Boobs

The other day, my new dress form pads were delivered. I was super pumped so instead of waiting until I was downstairs in my sweatshop, I opened the box in the living room where Matt and Emily happened to be. When Matt asked what it was I tried to explain and eventually just said “it’s a box of boobs”. Now, I said this quietly and just to him because as a 3 year old, Emily repeats EVERYTHING—especially the things she shouldn’t hear. So, of course, Matt repeated “Box of boobs?!” in his booming man voice. If you’ve never heard a toddler say “boobs”, you’re missing out on life. I wish it was not inappropriate because hearing her chant “Box of boobs! Box of boobs!” absolutely made my week.

My very useful box of boobs. 

REFUSE Revisited

Well, I finally got to board a plane as planned while at the airport. Kind of an important part of the trip.  (That comment refers to the time I went to the airport and my flight got delayed 5 times then finally cancelled.) Whether or not I get to actually fly out, the airport is never my favorite experience. It does start off pretty terribly. You stand there in your socks waiting for a stranger who already hates you to judge and hopefully approve the way you packed your bag. There is no way to make that look dignified so you might as well just fly in pajama pants. The plane itself was not the fanciest I’ve been on. The inflight entertainment was an old episode of Suits and a man in front of me whose snores kept startling him awake. From the airport I took a train to a bus and made it to Stef’s apartment no problem. I saw the show both Friday and Saturday night. LOVED IT both times. We had gorgeous weather and I got to spend time with some people I hadn’t seen in years. I didn’t really do any sight seeing but we went to a few cool bars and I met some awesome people. Only one snafu for the whole trip: I hopped the wrong  train which happened to be heading to a pretty sketchy area. Luckily I realized it as soon as the doors closed. I think I was a little distracted by the guy with the wheelie backpack strolling by me on the platform yelling profanities and praising Jesus. Yeah we’ll blame it on him. Lord, I missed my truck this weekend. The city certainly has its beauties though. A few hours following my little mishap, we were all sitting on Stef’s front stoop chatting, sipping champagne and soaking up the sunshine when someone in a brownstone across the way started playing a beautiful concerto on the piano with their windows open. It was like a scene from a chick flick. We all went out after the performance that night. Damn those city bars for staying open and full of people till 5am. It is very disorienting. I somehow made it home on about 4 hours of sleep and finally having recovered from six hours of bus, train, plane, and car travel feel like I can put together a few intelligible thoughts about the performance itself. 

It was brilliant. Beautiful choreography, beautiful songs, and BEAUTIFUL dancers. Those women are amazing. It almost brought me to tears both times which is a big thing. I hate crying so I don’t do it. 

The opening number depicts a breakup and the following dances show the progression of the moving on process—grief, fear, loneliness, repainting the past, loneliness, trying to move forward, loneliness, getting used to being alone in a crowd of couples, loneliness. Finally moving into finding empowerment and joy in being alone, shedding the fear, shedding the expectations, refusing to live someone else’s plan or checklist for your life. Realizing new dreams. No longer searching for completion but enjoying the journey...alone. It was such a relatable message. We all know what it’s like to feel lonely. The feeling passes. Learning to be alone without feeling lonely is essential to surviving. People will come in and out of our individual journeys. When it comes down to it, we all are alone but we’re all together in that. 

Just a little older and definitely wiser ❤️

Dating

I date sometimes. No, it doesn’t usually go past one or two dates but then I’ve never been on tinder so how do I expect to find any kind of meaningful connection? Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against actual online dating. I know a few very happily married couples who met that way. Excuse me but, tinder is not that, I know it’s not news to you. (If you met the love of your life on tinder, my apologies.) Like I said, I date sometimes. I am in no way a guru. Seriously. If you’re looking for dating tips, I am not your girl. I am picky in my old age.  I have had only one meaningful healthy grown-up relationship while in my 20’s. I have called two men my boyfriend (not at the same time), however ‘healthy’ and ‘grown-up’ did not apply to the first one. Loved him dearly of course but don’t worry, he’s probably not reading this. Anyway. The healthy experience I had with a relationship set the bar pretty freakin high and my reaction to most first dates since then has been ‘ehhhhh’ or ‘I’m not repulsed by him’. Again, I am sure none of those other guys are reading this. If you are, yes you are the exception and we’re still dating, didn’t you know? 

I’m picky about my feelings. When I say I’m picky I don’t mean he has to work a certain job, drive a certain truck or not have his nipples pierced—no actually I do mean one of those but I’m not telling which! It takes a certain type of person to make me feel both comfortable with and attracted to at the same time. I do have a type that I’m generally attracted to/comfortable with and they all have the same thing in common: TRUCKS! Just kidding. It’s confidence. I believe I’m attracted to this quality not because it’s something I have as well but because I lack it in a few areas of my life. I am confident in my many talents...until I fail to hit a high note, sew a straight seam or execute a pirouette. I was never good at this in the first place so why did I even try?? I am confident in my looks....until my skin breaks out (more than usual), my hair is flat, or I eat a cheeseburger and can’t fit into my jeans for three days. That’s it. I’m never leaving the house and I’ll die an old maid. Yes I come across as very sure of myself but if I lose that feeling with each of those tiny mistakes or flaws, clearly I am not actually confident. And how can I then require that quality in a mate?  If you have the person that is perfect for you, it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re perfect for them. Maybe opposites can attract and balance each other out in this area but if you wouldn’t settle, why would you expect them to?

REFUSE

You may have noticed that in my first blog (the continuation of my homepage story), the word “REFUSE” is a link to Stefanycottonchoreography.com. Of course if you did a little looking around on that website, my reasoning was probably pretty clear. However if you didn’t, I want to explain a bit. Stefany Cotton is one of the most fun, talented, creative, beautiful humans I know. We met either through community theater or dance classes. I can’t remember which came first but we were inseparable for years until she went away to college and following that, moved halfway across the country. Despite the distance we have always had the type of friendship that can pick up exactly where it left off. Of course I still ask when she is moving back home whenever we talk but she needs much more than this small-town, in-the-box, suburbia can offer. Stef has an amazing talent for communicating stories, thoughts and feelings through choreography. Her first project was called “Tether” and was inspired by the story of The Giving Tree. She designed movement for the songs she chose to narrate, in her words, “community, perseverance, and resiliency”. Her newest project, REFUSE, which opens tomorrow, is the same idea in composition but is “a narrative of self discovery and independence”. Her tagline reads “What happens when we start to question everything that’s expected of us?” Stef’s vision for REFUSE hits so close to home for me as I have always been the first to say “what if i just didn’t do it your way?”. I am so excited to fly out to visit her and see the show this weekend. The way she goes after her dreams has always inspired me to want more out of my own life and finally have the courage to make my own dreams a reality.

We were about 15 and on probably our 15th back to back sleepover that summer ❤️

I have excellent work ethic. I cannot stand giving any less than everything I have but I have never had a job that could bring that out in a good way. I either become a complete workaholic or give 98% and feel like crap about my performance. Designing and making dresses, letting my creativity flow, has channeled my desire to be the best I can be and it’s not about pleasing anyone else. I just work and work until a dress is perfect because I’m passionate about it. Creating for 10 hours straight is one of the most energizing things I have ever done. I’m still working on remembering to stop for meals.

How it all started

27 and a half years (you’re young if your age still has a fraction in it) old, single, and living with my sister, brother-in-law, and almost 3 year old niece. Isn’t that what every kid dreams of? Three months prior to this story, I loved living alone, and I loved my job. Working as an assistant processor for a mortgage company, I used to say “I won’t leave this job until they make me!”. Well, they did. I was laid off February 28, 2019. Two weeks of severance pay and benefits through the end of the month in which I was laid off…..February 28…….Yeah. Luckily for them, it wasn’t a leap year. #savedfourdollars! Sorry I don’t know how to hashtag so let me know if I did it wrong. Actually don’t. I really don’t care. Cut to me binge watching The West Wing, eating all the french fries, and incoherently, if not unwisely, contemplating the meaning of life. The West Wing, however brilliant, had no answers for me, nor did the french fries (code word for bourbon). I was left simply feeling empty and in want of something more from my life. This wallowing went on for two days. I attempted to figure out unemployment, health insurance, etc, while sending my pathetic one page resume to anyone and everyone. Five years at a local grocery store, childcare, administrative work in the medical field and assistant processing at a mortgage corporation. Who wouldn’t want me?? Side note: my niece wants to be a bus driver and/or a garbage truck driver. Of course there is nothing wrong with her pursuing either of these careers but I’m fairly certain she will change her mind before her next birthday.  Anyway, my point is that those of you who knew you were going to be astronauts when you grew up are very lucky. I mean if you actually are an astronaut. Well, who cares? This is the internet. You can just say you are. So, unemployed (yes it is still very hard to even type that word when describing myself), single (a positive at this point), and essentially homeless (renting a room from my sister was a temporary situation while I was searching for my own house to buy), I realized the world is my oyster! I have nothing tying me down aside from a hefty truck payment and my Netflix bill. With every big life change, I consider moving at least halfway across the country. Hell, I moved to Ireland once. That lasted about two weeks. In the end, I am a New Englander. Red Sox, foliage, “wicked cool”....We really don’t use that word as much as Adam Sandler makes it seem like we do. SweahdaGahhd. Clearly I’ve had too many shots of espresso. If you’re still following this, I had just realized I have plenty of options. I could be a singer! Or a ballerina! Okay now I am probably too old for both, but an unemployed, single, homeless girl can dream right? At this point, I have both my mother and my sister yelling at me in my head “You can make dresses!!”. Ohhhh right. Something I am actually passionate about and can do well. Is that what you’re supposed to look for in a career? Or in your life in general I guess? Super probably. So, day three, I half jokingly said to my sister “maybe I’ll just make dresses for a living…”. You know, just testing the waters. She is my landlady afterall. And she said “Yeah! Go for it!”. Yup. that’s what she said. No that is actually what she said. Why does everyone around me have more faith in my abilities than I do? That ends NOW. Or maybe in a few months. I don’t know if I can change my mindset just like that. So, here I am, 12 hrs/day, in my basement sweatshop, LOVING not only my “job” but more importantly, my life. I am spending my time the way that I want to, surrounded by people I love. What more could I ask for in my journey?  Who’s to say what a 27 (and a half) year old woman’s life is supposed to look like? If you try to tell me, I’ll REFUSE to listen.