Finding the Light at the End of the Tunnel

To quote one of my favorite bloggy buddies out there “I love my life and I love that I can say that.”

Several months ago I read that on Shannon’s 20sb page and for some reason it stuck with me. I loved the concept of such a bold statement in all of its simple complexity and I hated the fact that I couldn’t say it about my own life.

While I still had a good man by my side and a roof over my head it was admittedly not the ideal life. A far cry rather.

I lost my job. I put on weight. I had major health problems compounded by legal problems and car problems and every other kind of problem imaginable. I was irritable and depressed. Anxious and angry. My life was not the life I wanted or even felt I deserved.

I could do better. Be happier. I just knew it.

And finally I’ve found it. It’s been exactly 10 days since we’ve arrived in the Queen City. Our home is gorgeous (pics coming soon), our neighborhood is leaps and bounds ahead of the one we just left, the weather is gorgeous, the people are nice and the job market is, like I thought, a hundred times better.

Case in point, I’ve had 3 interviews and am looking at a possibility of 4 different jobs all paying more money than I’ve ever made in my life…and all of this has happened within one week of living here!!!

Now I don’t wanna get my hopes up. I know things can happen. Jobs can fall through and offers can suddenly disappear but I’m hopeful at the prospect of such a dramatically different job market. Even if I don’t get any of these jobs (even though all the employers seemed to LOVE me) I know that I’m much better off searching here than where I was.

Shall we recall the fact that I was laid off in October and searched Tampa’s job market incessantly to no avail for the following 6 months before we moved?!? The furthest I got there was 2 interviews for a serving job…and I couldn’t even land that despite the fact I have 6 years experience in food and beverage. No one would call me. Nothing was open.

It was a dead end.

But it’s completely different here. And for the first time in almost a year and a half I finally feel like my life is about to become something great. Full of happiness and love and success and peace.

And I love that I can say that.

I'm Moving On...

D-Day is upon us. Exactly 24 hours from today the Boo and I will be packing up boxes, turning in keys, and hauling all our worldly possessions to a great big (and terrifyingly new) adventure.

I would be lying if I told you I wasn’t a bit scared.

Scared that I won’t find a job quickly. Scared that bills will go unpaid and credit will be compromised. Scared that we won’t make new friends. Scared that we won’t learn our way around the city. Scared to fall flat on my face. Scared to hear “I told you so” once again.

Scared to fail.

But then I think that’s natural, right?

There will always be a certain aspect of our lives that we can never completely control. Things we can’t foresee. Situations we can’t compartmentalize into exactly what we want them to be. The ideal. The quintessential fairy tale ending.

Things like that can’t be guaranteed.

(But then again they don’t exactly happen on their own.)

In other words, unless I jump in with both feet, toss caution to the proverbial wind, I will never fully know if I’m capable of making it. Capable of something more, something bigger, and something far greater than anything I’ve experienced thus far.

And you know what? I damn sure intend to find out. Because there’s a little phrase that I remember in times like these: “Fear is temporary. Regret is forever.”

(And God knows I can’t afford anymore regrets.)

So guess what, Charlotte? Ready or not…here we come.

Friday's Food for Thought

“Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work.”- Thomas A Edison

Friday's Food for Thought

“The unreal is more powerful than the real because nothing is as perfect as you can imagine it. Because it's only intangible ideas, concepts, beliefs, fantasies that last. Stone crumbles. Wood rots. People, well, they die. But things as fragile as a thought, a dream, a legend? They can go on and on.”- Chuck Palahniuk

On Some Random Nonsense

1. As of late (yesterday) I’ve taken to calling the Boo by his middle name. Payne. Yes, that’s right. As in P-A-I-N. If that’s not the coolest f*ckin name on the planet then I don’t know what is. I have daydreams of how magnificently that middle name could come in handy when faced with an enemy. “I’m about to bring the PAIN on your ass. Cause that’s my middle name, son!” Not that he’d ever be that lame to use such a line. But in my revisions of future said story he most certainly will.

2. Totes ma-gotes has got to be the most awesome phrase ever invented. It just sounds kick ass. I laid awake in bed last night just saying “Totally…totes ma-gotes” over and over in my head and getting a little chuckle every time. Oh, Paul Rudd how I love thee. (And for the record, no I have not seen I Love You, Man despite the raving reviews I’ve read it received. Nay, I’ll just wait a few months years till it hits DVD and goes to Blockbuster and eventually makes its way off the “New Releases” perimeter and into the gaping abyss of a cluster f*ck that comprises the middle aisles of movies everyone’s already seen or hates. I call it frugality. And no, I’m not Jewish.)

3. Have you seen this?? I think you should. (Click the link you stubborn bastard. Do it. Quit being so GD lazy!!) If you try and tell me that’s not the funniest thing ever I will slaughter your first born. That’s a fact. (And I know I posted about it back in October or so but let’s be honest, I had no readers then so guess what, it’s happening again.)

4. Danny Gokey sings like baby Jesus. Sweet, six-pound 10 ounce baby Jesus. And it is BRILLIANT. I don’t care what you say about him I am SOLD. That sweet, widowed church boy has got some mother-f*cking pipes, yo. (And look, enough with the Adam obsession, ladies. I mean, I get it. He sounds like Freddy Mercury. You could probably share the same skinny jeans and eyeliner. But please, the man is clearly gay and any delusions to the contrary are just that…delusional. Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay, not in the least. All I’m saying is spending your days pining away for Mr. Lambert to make sweet love to you whilst serenading you with a sitar infused lullaby and simultaneously fathering your children is a far-fetched fantasy that’s never going to happen. So give it up.) But back to Danny. You wanna know what the best part about this kid is? “Gokes” (as I so lovingly refer to him) kinda rhymes with “Totes ma-gotes” and that is the crazy link that set this blog train o thought a chuggin.

Genius.

Friday's Food for Thought

"Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two." - Captain Corelli's Mandolin

**Have a fabulous weekend lovelies. Catch ya on the flip side.

Beach Bliss

It’s no big surprise that I’m ready to move.

I talk about it all the time. I’ve got a daily countdown set up on my refrigerator, planner and every major social networking site.

I curse the flat land of Florida, loathe the ridiculous temperatures and at times wish it would just float to the bottom of the ocean and remain unnoticed and unmissed.

But there’s one thing that this cold, hardened, embittered heart of mine will miss about my home of the last 14 years.

The shore, the waves, the seagulls, the stereotypical and superfluous palm trees. Loading the car up with 12-packs of beer and foot-long subs. Trudging through the sand lugging towels and books and a small radio. Basking in the sun checking tan lines and drifting in and out of peaceful slumber. Feeling completely content and relaxed after a long day by the water.

I’ll miss that.

So in an effort to cram in as much of it as possible before our swiftly approaching departure, the Boo and I have implemented weekly beach days.

(the boo and i in Clearwater. yes, i realize i have pronounced cankles in this picture.)

Every Friday we pack it all up, turn off our phones and head out to the vast expanse of sand, sun, and salt water. It’s the perfect conclusion to a long stressful week and a reminder that “there’s nowhere you can be that isn’t where you’re meant to be.”

(If you can name that song, I will love you forever.)

Happy Friday, everyone. Here’s to increased chances of melanoma, sand in every orifice and tipsy peeing in the water. (And don’t you dare act like you’ve never done that.)