Earth Day Guilt

Hawaii. I mean seriously. This is our world. Stop being so gorgeous.

When I was in High School, I had this hideous yellow t-shirt that I used to wear only on Earth Day. It said something like, "Save the Trees" or something equally statement-y but it was the only tradition I kept despite my peers mocking my "hippie" ways.

I went to college in Duluth where there is a loud voice for activism and because hindsight is 20/20, I know I could have been a bigger participant in standing up for things I believed in. Instead, I went to parties, took a lot of naps and whined about finals, giving little thought to other things that mattered to me or the grand scheme of the universe.

Earth Day comes each year and I have a pang of guilt for all the days I opted for Netflix instead of going out and volunteering or planting trees. I get really bummed out that part of me didn't embrace the "hippie" persona and do it any justice for that era of my life. I chose to otherwise fawn over Abercrombie and Victoria's Secret like all the other boring girls of my generation. *Hey! What's going' on?*-- A&F Tagline du jour.

Today I think about where I was and shake my head with a silly grin because this kind of self-deprication is unfair to myself. I am who I am. I did what I did, and nothing is truer than true. Just kidding. I won't get all Dr. Seuss-y but the reality is I can't change the past.

If I had my way, I would win the lottery and I would want to dedicate a lot of my energy to a charity like celebrities do. I would push for a clean water initiative, plant a lot of trees, try to slow deforestation and try to support sustainable farming. But since I'm not a millionaire, those plans will have to wait. Those are both past and future thoughts, right now, I will do what I can with what I've got:

• I donate to a foundation that plants a tree in your name every year. It's not a lot, but it's something. 
• I try to discourage my friends from burning plastic, saving the Ozone layer from another battle against the disposable water bottle.
• I utilize re-usable bags whenever possible, and always carry my items from the store instead of taking a bag (That's why I have a big purse, and if I carried it to the register, why can't I also carry it from?).
• I DIY when it makes sense, and buy when it uses more materials (including gas for traveling from store-to-store to gather materials) to DIY than it would just to purchase. Eventually I'll buy the expensive T-shirts that use recycled materials, but for now that isn't in my budget and going broke with an up-cycled v-neck benefits nobody.

Earth Day shouldn't be a battle between you and your conscience, it's a friendly reminder to do what you can, with what you've got. 

Happy Earth Day, friends!

Sunshine

If you're wondering: I survived my workout class without incident. In fact, it was notably uneventful-- including the workout. wah-wahh. 

I'm not one of those people who naturally gets jazzed to workout. I need to be inspired and motivated and so I'll continue to hunt for the class that gets me on the wagon. I'm testing out another tonight so I'll let you know how it goes.

Last Thursday felt like Friday. It was 70+ degrees and I actually got some color while basking on our little balcony. I am brown, but there are variations and I'm currently in my freckle-stage. This means I'm light enough where you can see the contributions of my father's mixed European heritage triumphing over my Filipino roots-- this is rare but then again, it's still only spring in the Midwest.

Anyway, I set up a little blanket, grabbed a water and laid out. In my sports bra and on my felt blanket, it wasn't exactly optimal but I didn't care that I was sweating into the thick layers, I was literally basking in the light of life. What is it about sunshine that gets us out of bed and improves our mood? I think it has to be more than chemical.

That was a Thursday, so come Friday and Saturday the grey skies were a far-cry from uplifting. Instead of staying indoors and avoiding the outside, manfriend and I decided to go golfing. This is an anomaly because I'm strictly a fair-weather-outdoors person and it was a little cold without the UV shining extra bright.

We finished our round and I was amazed: 1) I played some of the best golf I've ever played. 2) I was actually in a decent mood despite the doom and gloom of the howling winds and neutral skies. I think it sounds obvious to say that we have to work harder on rainy/unfortunate weather days, but I think I'm going to make a serious effort to do get those endorphins pumping anyway or it could be a very long spring.

Aside from rainy day Netflix marathons and cat-naps, how do you spend your cloudy days?

On the Wagon

Image via

I see a lot of posts about doing something that scares you at least once a day. For me this usually means eating an egg with a runny yolk (Hey--You never know when bird flu will strike!). But today’s challenge is going to a new fitness studio.

I've been sulking about for a few weeks now, eating my emotions and promptly packing on the pounds that go with each bite. I'm at the age where working out isn't just a vanity thing, but a real necessity so that your health doesn't suffer.

I've been getting more sleep because of the latest 30 Day Challenge, but without the counterbalance of exercise, I've been sluggish and kind of in a fog. So I've been desperate to "get back on the wagon" as I call it, but I have let 3 weeks slip past me without once lacing up my sneakers. (I just wanted to say sneakers. Do I sound like a grandma yet?)

My yoga mat has been eyeballing me from the backseat of my car so eventually I just took it out. I don't need that heavy rubber judgement every time I go to get groceries! But internal paranoia aside, I want to get back to my mat. 

I miss peeling off sweat-soaked clothes, or staying in them and freezing and having to do my 3rd outfit change of the day while contemplating a shower at 9pm at night. Just kidding. Nobody loves those things, but I do miss the euphoria that comes after a workout. The sense of accomplishment that I fought-- and won-- the battle du jour.

I also look forward to the minute that I can tell the little voice in my head that chirps, "You should go workout today..." like a regular heartbeat to STFU. So while I dust of my trusty Lulu pants and play Missy Elliot on repeat to get myself pumped up, I suggest that you stop reading this and go do it too. 

Just kidding, don't stop reading. But if you're in the mood for some motivation, I can have my friend Natalie provide you a pep talk or, you could just watch this awesome Nike video that seriously does get me jazzed. 

Happy Hump Day friends!

Exhale

I have been holding my breath for a few days now.

Kind of waiting to wake up from this weird state of surreal that seems to not be leaving anytime soon.

Let me just say a few things:

1.  I am, unfortunately, a valley girl. I am not proud of this, but manfriend has forced this concept down my throat; I do hate being cold, and enjoy a good latte. Shun me if you dare. With that said, metropolitan life suits me quite well. And although North Dakota is not the hub of all things modern in our fair country, Bismarck in particular does have a lot to offer by way of commerce and full scale suburban life.
2. I don't personally have anything against North Dakota, or Bismarck-proper. So if you are from here, or a place similar to here, I am not hatin'. In fact, I relish the opportunity to be separated from my familiar because it's good for the soul. What I do dislike, is being away from co-ops and hyper-local restaurants and JCrew. I will miss those things, and I am allowed to miss them, so just let me whine about it.
3. I am far away from home again. Not 'home' as in my "mother's bosom". Home as in, when I need a good wine-cry, I can walk across the hall or sweat it out at my favorite oh-so-familiar yoga studio or circumnavigate traffic with my eyes closed (Do not try driving with your eyes closed!). 

But keeping those three things in mind, the answer to the question of how I'm doing out here, is "fine". Not in the "I'm-actually-mad-at-you-so-you-need-to-keep-asking-until-I-tell-you-what's-up, fine." I mean the actual sense of the word in it's true form:

I'm downloading and processing a new place. I could have moved across the river to Minneapolis and I'd still be doing the same thing--only with more coffee and dinner date distractions in between. I like  love my apartment because SO MANY CLOSETS! (When you live in 50+ year old homes for 8 years, you do not take those for granted.) Moving itself is exhausting physically but I think it spends us mentally for all of the adjustments you have to make from your comfort zone.

But I'm starting to take hold of this new normal and embrace it for what it is- a real-life adventure. Not something out of the movies that's romanticized, but a daily story that will one day be a time period encapsulated as "The Bismarck Years".

The days are flying by, which seems weird to say but I haven't looked at the clock mid-supper before 8:30pm because there's a lot of stuff to get distracted with-- easy things like putting away more pans, and googling curtains or office chairs.

It's Wednesday, so it feels good to finally exhale. I'm not holding my breath for any surprises or some sort of elaborate Punk'd episode to unravel, but I'm here and this is my now.

On a related note, if anyone has any good butchers or places to buy good bacon, I'm desperately seeking a good thick-cut. #lowmaintenance #notsorry

Tally-ho!

I cried in yoga tonight.

It was a sculpt class and I was on my back sweating to hold a bridge pose, counting backward from 25 and my sweat gained the companionship of some welcome tears.

I've been intermittently saying goodbye to things here in St. Paul; friends, restaurants, familiar streets that know a special part of me in this chapter of my life. It has been difficult to say the least.

What exacerbates the stress, is my anxiousness to leave. I am giddy. My apartment is going to be awesome. I get to spend more time with my man-friend-- a luxury previously unimaginable, even recently as my friend Natalie will tell you that he's a figment of my imagination because he travels so much.

I will be home more. I am out, all the time, being the most hedonistic version of myself I've ever been as an adult. I've spent equal amounts in petrol and on food making friends, and attending events because I want to soak up every last drop of this glorious, wonderful state.

I learned my lesson when I moved from Duluth, that you will, more than anything, miss the little things. Coffee from your favorite spot, your favorite grocery store (because a good one is hard to find!), the way your street can be perfectly peaceful and make you feel so safe, so homey...or the way the sunlight hits the kitchen on an otherwise average day, making it delightfully noteworthy.

Those little things I've photographed in my mind (and on my phone) because although each day in itself is different, this "now" is something I knew would be exceptional from the very start. I have been spoiled and yes, blessed (even though I cringe at writing the word) these last months.

So when I was in class, going to my last Yoga Sculpt class for however long it takes me to get back to here, I cried.

25, 24... I can't believe I'm moving... 23, 22, Why is my spine so boney right now?? 21, 20.. ah to be young again, I wouldn't go back to being 21 if you paid me... 19, 18... I'm hungover just thinking about it; I was so naive, what did I know of the world? 17, 16... not enough to know I was clueless... 15, 14... I would have never guessed this would be my (and our [manfriend's]) path, but why not? 13, 12... seriously longest series ever... 

I've had a lot of people ask me if I'm excited, and I never thought I'd say this, but I am. Truly, and genuinely for this next stage. I sweat-cried my tears today and I hope they'll be the last (mostly because I hate goodbyes and want to escape like a thief in the night). But I think this next journey will be extremely nourishing to manfriend and I, as we pioneer the Great Plains, challenging creatively and just the right setting to ease into the bones of my late twenties.

It's going to be a fun ride. Bismarck, I'm comin' for ya.

Work-a-holic

I've had this kind of crazy recurring dream that I've been living in an action movie. Probably because the last few months of my life have been a hilarious montage of too much wine and a lot of brunch dates with my gal pals with a healthy --erm-- decent-- dose of sculpt classes in between. But as we all know, every movie has the roller-coaster of emotions that comes from too much bliss-- (sorry it's the Capricorn in me).

You know when you're going fast on a bike (or accidentally hydroplane) and you hit a big puddle and slow-motion slow-down--as in every other molecule in your body is still going super fast but your tires and sweet purple mountain bike decide they're going to take a chill pill underneath you? 

Well my involuntary slow-down was when my girlfriends asked me how many jobs I actually have. 

Kind of comical-- for most people the answer is like: 1 "real" job (a typical 9-5) and maybe 1 side job for shoe money or something leisurely. But I some how answered the question with not one, not two, but six. Yes. Six.

What in the...?

I know right???

*What comes after hitting the puddle is the inevitable reality of motion and the laws of gravity reminding you what's up ala pavement.*

I kind of panicked. Counting each role out loud made me think of all the commitments I'd made-- like I'd planned my senior semester all over again but just doubled my load for no reason whatsoever. Remember that chaos? Registering for EVERYTHING so you got in and then only showing up on day 1 to see if you hated the syllabus, the teacher or had a friend you could stick it out with? No? Just me? Oh okay. 

WHY DO I WORK SO MUCH??? Am I a workaholic? I met with this total babe from a PR agency last week and I was embarrassed when telling her about myself because I sound like I can't commit to anything since I commit to everything. 

I frequently tell my friend Sarah to slow down-- just because you can do everything doesn't mean you have to. I think the momentum of moving + the new year + my Saturn return had me juggling so many knives, that once I stopped to think about what I was actually doing, I realized how dangerous it is to myself to juggle knives (literally --but in this case figuratively because what psychopath juggles knives?)

Something about turning 27 has really set me on a path of serious self-love. I don't think I would have given myself a break before because of 'youth' and 'the grind' and 'hustling'-- all words I'm so over right now [serious valley girl tone there] because at the end of the day, even if your resume has a bazillion things on it, you're still juggling knives. 

I decided to make moves toward cutting back on my commitments in favor of committing more wholeheartedly to the ones that will help enrich my spirit, not just my resume. 

Besides managing your workaholic-ism, how do you practice self-love?

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".