'New Year, New Me'? No.

With the New Year in full force, I notice a lot of people talking about their ‘new year’s resolutions.’  Well, I don’t believe in making resolutions, being as by this time people usually give up on them, but I do believe in bettering yourself every day.  Life is about progress, not perfection!  You should want to better yourself every day, not pick the end of the year to collect all the things that are ‘wrong with you’[1] and write a list for you to abide by for the incoming year.  That is setting yourself up for failure, my friend, and I am not about that.  Slow and steady wins the race.

So, listening to all of my friend’s resolutions, seeing their lives, and knowing my own, I have put together a list for the masses.  These aren’t New Year’s resolutions; these are just ways to live a happier life.  This list is things I need to remind myself on a daily basis as well, but if I can help someone else too, then it is a good day!

1)      Stop being mean to yourself!

There is no need to continuously point out all of your flaws and shortcomings.  Everyone has flaws, there are things [be it physical, emotional or mental] that everyone wants to change about themselves.  CHANGE IT.  Beating yourself up and harping on it isn’t going to change it.  I know this sounds like me preaching, but it isn’t.  I do the same thing, but I learned that putting yourself in a negative mental space will not help anything.  It only prolongs your misery.

2)      Blowing out somebody else’s candle won’t make yours shine any brighter.

There is always going to be someone else doing better than you in comparison.  STOP COMPARING.  Once again, it does not do well to harp on the negatives.  You and someone else did not have the same tests in life, so it is unfair to you [and them] to compare grades.

3)      As long as you can look yourself in the mirror at the end of the day, you are okay.

Be happy with your decisions, they are YOUR decisions.  Don’t worry about what other people say or how they react, as long as you are happy with yourself at the end of the day, then life is good.

4)      Life IS good…no matter how bad.

Horrible times can’t last forever.  As cliché as this sounds [and yes, I am aware of how cliché this sounds] even the darkest hour only has 60 minutes.

5)      You cannot please everyone.

You can do everything right and people will STILL have something negative to say.  Forget those people, don’t let them bring you down.  If they won’t matter in a few months, if not years, from now, they don’t matter.

6)      Only you can tell you ‘NO’

Don’t let people dictate what you do.  This is your life.  If you want to go somewhere but someone who doesn’t like you is there, go anyway.  There is no reason why you should give them the satisfaction of letting them in your head.

7)      Complaining is natural

You cannot be happy all the time, that’s a fact, but you don’t need to beat yourself up about it.  I hate the ‘I said I wouldn’t complain as much’ resolutions.  Everyone complains, it’s part of life.  We are both positive and negative, they are not mutually exclusive, and that is o.k.!  Just make sure you follow the next one. . .

8)      Don’t let the negative outweigh the positive.

I have trouble with this sometimes.  It’s okay to get down and sad sometimes, but don’t be so far down the rabbit hole where it is unbearable for you and everyone else around you.  You’re allowed to mope for a little bit, but after your allotted time, pick yourself up, dust yourself off, have a drink and keep it moving! 

So that’s my list, blogfam[2]; Life is far too short to be anything less than unapologetically happy.  Be happy with where you are, strive for better from yourself, don’t let people get you down, always move forward, never say things you don’t mean, have strength in your convictions and only apologize when you feel you should.  Good luck on your resolutions, but just try to make each day better J!

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[1] Everyone has flaws!! There is nothing wrong with you

[2] All you dedicated readers are now party of my Blogger Family…Welcome to the Circus!

The Reformation of a Party Girl

As stated in previous blogs, I live in a party town.  You might as well call it Never land, because everyone has Peter Pan Syndrome[1].  Despite everyone being older and having full time jobs, the partying never stops; it doesn't matter what day of the week it is, there is always a reason to go out and drink.

 I’m not putting this lifestyle down; I spent 18-22 doing the same thing, but now, in my mid-20s, I am kind of over it.  I no longer feel the need to go out on ‘two for Tuesday’ or ‘wacky Wednesday’ or ‘Thirsty Thursday’.  It takes effort to leave my house once I get home from work on Friday, my Saturdays are always my active days, and the idea of traveling to work the Monday morning after a ‘Sunday funday’ sends shivers down my spine.  Needless to say, I am an old lady.  But I think I earned my senior lifestyle now; I spent the better portion of 5 years going out every night of the week, drinking whatever was on the menu for the evening, dancing on any sturdy table; and then I graduated college and went into the real world and doing that now is just sad.

I like to have my feet firmly planted on the ground at all times, although I do showcase some pretty sweet dance moves.  I also have acquired a taste for the finer alcohols as opposed to drinking whatever is cheap and in front of me.  However, hanging out with my peers, those that live in my town and those that do not, I am seeing not everyone is as embracing of growing up as I am.

The mid-twenty-something ‘party girl’ is not a good look.  To be the occasional hot mess is one thing, but to make that your life motto? That’s a whole other story.  At this point in time you should know what you like to drink, and not be drinking things for the sole purpose of getting drunk.  I once read an article that said ‘girls in their early 20s get drunk; girls in their mid-20s get drinks.’ I wholeheartedly agree with this.  I do not go out to get drunk, I go out to have a few drinks with friends and have a good time.  Sure, I’m still taking pictures and dancing and giggling up a storm, but I am never sloppy.  I know a few girls that go out on a typical Friday night and send the ‘what happened last night’ text Saturday morning.  Girl, pull your life together, the stage of your life where that behavior is acceptable is long behind you.  I’m not judging, to each his own, but quit telling me about how much you want a good relationship and want to have kids when you’re sitting in fetal position on the bathroom floor throwing up the contents of your Thursday night.

Everyone needs to make a choice in their life; either embrace the party scene and your party girl tendencies (if that’s your thing) or appreciate the good times that you had and close that chapter of your life.  There is not one that is better than the other; it’s a personal preference of how you see your future playing out.  But don’t put down party girls when it is obvious to everyone [but you] that you are the ring leader. The quite 'house-wife' life isn't for everyone and neither is the 'party girl' lifestyle, but we all have roles to play.

So, pick a side, and to whichever you choose, God’s speed.

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[1] Peter Pan Syndrome- Is when someone does not want to grow up and they act like a child and forgo responsibilities.  This is not cute after your early 20s.

‘You girls should have your own plane.’- Why you don’t fly a bachelorette party out with everyone else.

Last week I went on a 4 day bachelorette party to New Orleans with 9 other women.  We took the 7am flight out, a few short layovers (thanks, Mother Nature), and some Delta ‘Sky Breezes’ later, and we were feet down in the Big Easy.  However, getting there was certainly no easy feat. 

I was the first to arrive at the airport at 5:45am, only to find our original United flight was canceled.  After finding the correct party to talk to, I went down to the service station and pleaded to my new (and amazing) friend Adam at the desk to get the rest of my party on a similar flight schedule with limited distractions.  He was able to get us on a 7am flight to Atlanta with a 5 hour layover, but because my career expertise is in travel, I was able to cut that layover down and get us a 50 minute layover in Hotlanta by putting us on ‘standby’; which let everyone on board.  As we were coming down from the adrenaline high of being up since 4am and racing around not one, but two airports, we were a little chatty when we finally boarded and sat down on our flight.  Most of us fell asleep during the duration of the trip, and if we were awake we kept conversation to a dull whisper; but when the plane took off and landed we were a roar of conversation between 9 girls in 3 rows. 

Despite the Bride and I being seated next to a stranger going to a work conference, who had no problem engaging us in conversation or buying our libations for the duration of the trip [Thanks for the Southern Hospitality, Joe!], the other patrons of Delta were not as kind.  The minute we landed and unbuckled our seat belts, some cranky woman started listing off all her opinions about every topic of conversation we held.  On any other occasion her opinions would have been welcomed with further chatter, but considering she was extremely aggressive and talking to people about us and not to us, we were not as apt to hear her.  The conversation ended with her saying ‘well when you've been up since 5am..’ to which I rebuked that I had been up since 4am, and maybe she should have a drink and smile. 

This brings me to my main point, while we were a fairly dull bachelorette party, we were probably too energetic to be sitting with everyone else.  Bachelor/ette parties and other big celebrations should have their own method of travel.  Why should high energy people subject regular people who just want to nap to their shenanigans?  Even hungover on the way home from the House of the Rising Sun, we did not make any friends on the plane, and all we were doing was giggling and complaining that we had a 2 hour ride on a shuttle plane….and the fact that my banana had a hole in it.

The point being, you can have as much fun as you want, but if other people aren't having fun with you, they hate you.  Sorry, people of Delta and United, for the disruption, but now you have a good story for your own blog.  YOU’RE WELCOME!

Writers, Can’t live with ‘em, Can’t live without ‘em.

There is a constant fear when you know a writer; the fear that everything you do or say will later turn into a story.  The fear that any embarrassing move you make will be plastered around pages for people to see.  Your soul will be bare and you will be out there, in the public eye, naked and vulnerable.  If you think this is an over exaggeration, you have no concept of the internet or how what you say in a public forum resonates in the world forever.  Overly dramatic, you say? Well, this might be a small little blog, but it certainly gets a lot of traction; not just in the United States, but all around the world.  I may not have many ‘followers’ who subscribe (ie-other bloggers) but I do have a lot of dedicated readers…as my stats tell me.

My day job may be the farthest thing from writing as possible, but that’s because it is my hobby, my passion, something I love.  I want my work to be pure and fun and be my voice.  Writing is my outlet, but still, I am a writer. I repeat, I am a writer.  While this may just seem like an arbitrary statement, it actually has a lot more to do with my character than my profession.  Writers are Blessed with both a gift and a curse.  We are analytical creatures; which means we will tear apart everything you say five ways to Sunday, until we find an underlying gem in what you indirectly said.  Yes, this seems a little crazy, but that’s what writers do, we can’t help it.  On the other hand, everything we say is carefully thought out, eloquent, precise and well planned.  That attribute alone can be a powerful tool, as we can either build you up with beautiful speech, or say the most hurtful insults that will not sting right away, but eat at you for days to come.

These are the liabilities with being friends with a writer.  I have been told I have an acid tongue, stringing the most eloquent lines together to purposely push the buttons of whoever scorned me.  While some people might see that as an insult, I took it as a testament to my amazing writing and diction skills.  I have a creative brain and knack for picking obscure but poignant words.  I try to use my power for the common good, but to err is human . . . Mildly joking, I never wrongly insult anyone, but God help you if you hurt someone I care about . . .acid tongue gloves are OFF!

But I digress. While many people are afraid of having their guts spilled for the masses over pages, I seldom write about people I am close with.  Much of my life/blog are an open book as far as good bar stories, terrible dates, and random thoughts, I do not put the intimacies of my life on here.  However, if you are with me and an amazing adventure, good story or horrible dates ensue, it is fair game.  You have been forewarned.  

I am on a 24 hour Champagne Diet

Now that the awesome Drake inspired title lured you into my blog, I will get into it.  With New Year’s Eve quickly approaching, I have had a lot to celebrate.  I have spent this past year doing a lot of soul searching and reflection in my own life, and as this year thankfully comes to a close, I figured I should sum it all up.

I have learned that life is a constant learning process, every day I learn something new about myself or the world.  Any time I think I have it all figured out, life throws me some kind of curve ball; good or bad.  This year I have met more amazing people and key players in my life than I have in any other year.  Someone whom I met at the beginning of the year as an enemy turns out to be one of my closest friends now; that came as a complete shock to us both!  Another person I met as a drunken acquaintance[1] turned out to be someone promising.  Life is always funny like that, when you don’t expect anything, something big comes along.

On the same side of meeting new people, I have learned that it is okay to let go of old people.  Just because you care about someone and have known them for years, does not mean that they will always be that same person.  Everyone grows up and sometimes two people do not grow in the same direction.  That is okay.  The best and most positive thing you can do is respect that friendship enough to let it die with dignity.  If someone is no longer a good friend or a positive influence in your life, it is okay to let go.  You don’t have to tolerate people’s negativity and bologna just because you love(d) them.  That is an important lesson I have learned this year; you cannot be mad at people who don’t know any better, but you don’t need to endure it.  This year I decided I will no longer accept negativity in my life.  Being happy is a choice like anything else, every day you have to choose to be happy, and I can’t do that with toxic people in my life.  So, unfortunately to them I say Bye Felicia[2].

This year has been insanely trying; life has set me up with more obstacles, tests, trials and tribulations than it ever has, and despite some slips and minor setbacks, I think I really rose to the occasion.  I have taken all these obstacles and made the best of it.  I used everything that came my way and learned from it.  Unlike 2009, I probably won’t look back on this year and say ‘it seemed hard at the time but look how much fun I had!!’ Instead I will probably say ‘holy moly was it difficult, but look how much I learned.’  This year’s quarter-life crisis set me up for an amazing come back, and I most certainly did. 

With a new zest for life, amazing new and strengthened older friendships, no negativity, and new relationships on the horizon, I look to 2014 with bright eyes and excitement.  I am positive that 2014 is going to make way for some of the best times of my life to come, because how could it not?  An arrow can only be shot by pulling it backwards; well after a year of being pulled backwards, I am sure I am going to be projected forward into something beautiful.  Good things in 2014, everyone!! And definitely more blogs!

Xoxo

-LC

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[1] Don’t ever go out for an all-day drink-fest and only eat a plum.

[2] Google it…you’ll thank me later.

Battle of the Sexes- Can guys and girls be ‘just friends’?

I have had this conversation a lot within the past few months or so, so I figured it was something worth addressing.  Can men and women just be friends? No tension, no awkwardness, no flirting, just a platonic friendship. 

Most men I talk to say ‘No. Men and women cannot be just friends; there is always some underlying sexual tension at the base of the friendship.’  Well, the neighborhood I live in goes against that 100%.  A good portion of my friends are male, and the same goes for the friends of my girlfriends.   It might be because we all have worked in bars for the past 10 or so years, but to us we do not see anything weird about having male friends.  Friends are friends, no matter their gender.  At least that’s how we (my girlfriends and I) see it.  I do think, mainly in my case, that it makes a difference because my friends are older.  My friends have always been older than me; some by a few years, some by more, but with most of my friendships, there was never a feeling of anything other than friends.  If I needed them there, they were there, if I needed a talk or a drinking buddy, whether I was single or not, they were there.  However, in my [then] newly single-ness I realized that some of my ‘friends’ were not on the same page of friendness that I was.  I wouldn’t have called them my closest male friends, but I certainly didn’t see anything more than a platonic relationship there.  Yet I have found myself in an awkward one-sidedly drunken conversation where I had to politely decline a drinking date invitation by someone I thought was just a friend.

So that brings me to my next point . . . The best explanation I have gotten was ‘it has to be a two way street,' meaning both parties need to agree that there is nothing there.  Though as 500 Days of Summer will tell you, guys and girls cannot just be friends, someone will always fall for someone, whether for a minute or for a lifetime.  Well I certainly do not take that stance in this argument, but I do agree with the two way street comment; in the sense that if one person has even the slightest bit of feelings, the friendship is probably not legitimate. 

Working in a bar for the past 7 years, I have met a lot of people and formed a lot of relationships through my trade.  Maybe they aren’t the strongest friendships, maybe they are just ‘bar friends’, but I still would refer to them as ‘my friend __.’  While I am wary of girls who ONLY have guy friends [if you can’t play nice with at least 1 other girl, you’re probably a horrible person] and guys who ONLY have girl friends [what are you trying to do, start a collection of prospects?] I do think it is healthy to have a nice mix of friends, only friends, who are both men and women. 

The Week I spent with my Mother.

Last month I went on a weeklong vacation to San Francisco with my mother.  This was not the first vacation we have been on alone together, nor is this the first time we have been on vacation together for a week, but for some reason this trip was different.  I have always wanted to go to California, it has been a dream of mine for my entire life and for some reason I just never made it out there.  Whatever the case, the timing wasn’t right or I never seemed to find the right company, my dream of California took a backseat as I traveled with friends and boyfriends to other states/countries.  This trip finally happening was a huge deal, and I couldn’t have picked a better travel companion.  I absolutely adore and idolize my mother, she is the most amazing person I have ever met in my life and she is certainly the strongest woman I know.  But, this is not just an idealistic daughter talking, I know a lot of my peers and people who have met her feel the same way.  Despite none of this information being a revelation to me, I still learned a lot about my mother and our relationship in that one week . . . probably more than she realizes.

My mother is a strong woman.  I repeat; my mother is a strong woman.  Not in the sense of physical strength or solely assertiveness, but the fact that she has overcome many situations and never sees the world jaded or differently because of it.  I always hoped to take that trait from her, and I really believe I do.  My mother navigated us through an unfamiliar city, which has its fair share of ‘undesirable’ neighborhoods, with confidence, ease and without the least bit of uncertainty.  As we went from neighborhood to neighborhood stopping at every wine tasting and little boutique we could stumble across, I realized I am much more like my mother than I previously realized.

While we went from place to place as per recommendations of my friends, my mother never questioned or complained, she just went with it and gladly got us there.  When I wanted to go stick my feet in the Pacific Ocean [for the first time ever] despite it being freezing outside and not beach weather at all, my mother was jumping in the ocean with me.  My mother didn’t judge the silly things I do, like splash freezing ocean water all over the place simply because I’ve never been outside the Atlantic, but embraced them and appreciated the rose colored way I see and love the world.  But it is more than her just valuing the way I see it, she also has the free spirit love for beauty of the world that I do.  We went to the California Academy of Science, and my mom stopped and enjoyed every exhibit we went to.  There was never enough information she could soak up, even as we were walking through the small gardens before the Academy, my mom read every statue and sign there was.  I love that about her.

One night my mother and I decided to take the concierge’s advice and try a restaurant in the ‘Little Italy’ section of San Francisco.  Well, what the concierge neglected to tell us was that it was more of a little pizzeria than a restaurant.  Nevertheless, it would be too rude to cancel our reservation, so we sat in the small pizzeria/restaurant at a table for two and browsed the menu.  Out of nowhere some portly, unkempt older man sits down next to us and proceeds to uncomfortably create conversation.  After not getting the hint that we were uninterested in conversing with a stranger who was jamming his dirty hands in our bread, chewing with his mouth open, and hacking up a lung while we were trying to eat our appetizers, he proceeded to move all his belongings from his original table and sit next to us for the remainder of our meals.  While the wait staff was getting quite the giggle out of this awkward encounter, my mother and I dealt with the intrusion the same way . . . more wine!

This was the very meal that made me realize how much my mother and I are the same person.  Despite being disinterested in making a new friend, she continued conversation and didn’t miss a beat or get uncomfortable.  As I sat there ignoring the interactions, I noticed a man with a little yorkie walked in and sat on the other side of us.  Our ‘girls night dinner’ has now become a circus attraction.  After playing with the little dog [I am a sucker for dogs] for a few minutes, the other man, let’s call him Egbert, now decided he too wanted to be in our conversation.  I then found myself trying to pay attention to my mother’s conversation with Mr. Pignati[1], which had now gotten friendlier after the discovery that Mr. Pignati is single, looking for love, and also interested in men. My mother’s new goal for the evening was to get Mr. Pignati to date and find love, after all, this was San Francisco, and no one should be alone forever!

That whole interaction was a scene I could see playing out for myself.  My Friends always laugh because whenever we go out, I make a new friend.  It doesn’t matter how creepy or bizarre the person is, I always have a good story, and apparently that is a trait I got from my mother!

Throughout our dinner, Mr. Pignati and Egbert became our dinner guests, albeit competing against each other for attention.  Egbert was an older man, skinny, covered in jewelry, long gray hair slicked back, motorcycle helmet in tow (although all I saw outside was a cheesy vespa) and this little female yorkie with a pink bow in here hair.  Much to my dismay and confusion, Egbert was not interested in men; he was just a 1960’s ‘free love’ kind of flowerchild.  Although I pride myself on being a free spirit, Egbert gave me the creeps and I would’ve much preferred to stay chatting it up with Mr. Pignati.  A few creepy comments from Egbert with retaliation from me caught my mom’s ear and she whipped out the ‘Brooklyn/Italian/Overprotective Momma Bear’ attitude.  Yet another realization that my mother and I are the same person, because I get that same kind of protective crazy when I feel my family[2] are being threatened [or just really annoyed.]

A few glasses of wine and champagne down, our entrees and desserts finished, and memories to last us a lifetime, my mother and I departed the restaurant.  I do not remember that dinner just because two creepy old men were trying to scam on me and my mom, but I remember it because my mother and I sat in a quiet boring little restaurant and had ourselves a party, making tons of new friends.  We had the entire kitchen staff out talking to us, the owners of the restaurant and their family telling us their story, and of course our two dinner guests from other tables.  Much like myself, my mother is a people person and brings the party wherever she goes.  There is no reason in living a boring life, especially when you can make every mundane activity interesting.

I couldn’t think of anyone better to be so similar to other than my mother.  She absolutely is my best friend; She understands me, knows why I am the way I am, and appreciates me.  Now, it can be argued that these are just traits of being a mother and feeling that way about your children is natural, but the admiration, understand and appreciation is reciprocated, which isn’t always the case between paternal and offspring relationships.  One simple weeklong vacation meant more to me than could’ve previously been predicted, and will be filled with memories I hold for a very long time.

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[1] This name has been changed to protect said portly man’s identity, and yes, it is from a book.

[2] Friends are family too