Bye bye, Chi.

I write this for no other reason than the catharsis it provides me. Maybe there's a lesson in it, but mostly I just need to put it into words.

When I graduated, I wanted to move to Chicago. That was my main objective outside of not starving. Man-friend and I had agreed we'd take it in stride pending what opportunities would arise, but I had committed my heart and my mind, to moving away.

Over the last year I've been lucky enough to squeeze every last bit of free time into visiting the city. Manfriend was covering a territory that caused him to spend an excess of time there, and so I took full advantage of embracing his travels. Some of our closest friends from college moved there a few years before, and were kind enough to show us the non-touristy neighborhoods to hit up, leading my heart to only long for the Windy City as my home even more.

It seemed glamorous; the trains, the skyscrapers, the people-- oh the people! They're literally everywhere. It's unfathomable to me that there are so many humans in such a small space. Where could they all possibly be going? But when you are discovering a new city, those are the kinds of things you find endearing and wholly part of the energy.

I cried a lot of tears and drank more coffee than was sustainable for any one human during my battle to escape Minnesota, but could not, and would not, win the fight.When it became apparent that I'd have to choose between forcing my dreams and gracefully meeting the realities of life, grace trumped brute force and I stayed.

This week, I had to travel to Chicago to get some training done for a new role I've taken on. I was all-consumed with preparing for my training and not until I arrived at the airport, and walked an oh-so-familiar path to my flight gate, did I realize that I'd be reunited with my former love. 

It was like seeing an ex for the first time after an ugly/against your wishes break-up, but you actually look really, really good. I hopped on the L and rode the blue line like a pro because unlike the last time I encountered my ex, this time around I was much better off. Not as emotional or desperate to please, I was finally "okay" that we had parted ways.

With every stop of the train, I felt a familiar longing that I only recognize with this specific ex. Chicago knew a little part of me that I wouldn't show to anyone else, and could never hide from her again. That piece of me, belonged to her. 

I finished with my meeting earlier than I anticipated and was left for the first time, alone in the heart of the city, to do whatever I pleased. I walked a bit, but due to the relentless wind and insufferable cold (combined with a stylish/not practical outfit) I promptly entered a restaurant.

Alone I sat by the window, Instagram-med my food, and sipped a glass of wine, contemplating without pressure if this was the life I had missed out on. I recalled my memories-- good (tourist-ing, new friends, great pizza) and bad (alll the wind always, smelly streets, drunk men on trains) and decided that I was longer the woman that had her whirlwind romance with Chi. 

I had done it once before with Manfriend, but I never expected I'd need to say "Goodbye" to Chicago on my own. I still wonder if it's a recurring theme that so many poignant moments in my life are experienced as an individual living a moment of absolute lucidity. I don't know. That's contemplation for another day, for now I'll just say, "Goodbye, Chicago, it was lovely to love you".

Moons & Moods

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.

I am partially grouchy because my neck is sore from my workout last night so I couldn't get comfortable, and partially grouchy because of reasons I can't explain.

If you're wondering, it is not my lovely cycle come-a callin'. That has come and gone so I won't attribute my morning betchyness to that. No, I am quite certain it has nearly everything to do with the moon.

Most mornings I wake up and have a very clear vision of what I want and how I will execute my day. Lists of to-dos form in my head and as I begin to organize what order these tasks will play out, I start to ease into the day. I make note of the weather, fill my water bottle and set off into the world.

This fine day, I woke up pissed. I did not have a bad dream, I was just upset. Not teary-wah-wah woe-is-me upset, but like I want to get out of traffic because I'll be late again to my hair appointment pissed.

But I knew why: today, is a full moon.

For those of you who don't put any stock into astronomy and the tides, I beg you to remember that we are 60% water and so for the moon to not affect you, is foolish. I also don't think it's a coincidence folklore positions witches and werewolves to be out and about during full moons. Just sayin'.

In history, this traditionally plays out poorly. I attribute my foul mood to something insignificant: man-friend being insensitive, slow internet, crappy food-- anything that serves as a plausible catalyst to why I'm such a raging bitch for no given reason.

But today I decided, instead of being a bull, I'd utilize this fire-laden focus to motivate me. I have found lately that I'm doing more negotiating (contractors, cars, Father Time) than usual. For some reason I instantly thought of Lean In and wondered if this kind of razor sharp energy is what Sheryl Sandberg channels on the reg-reg.

If you're experiencing a full moon meltdown as I did this morning, I hope you wrangle that energy and make it work for you. Pick something today, and make it your red caped-target du jour.

Or don't, and just be a bull, it's up to you.