Self sabotage

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It could be a dream. A spark from the past instantly ignites something inside that may have lay dormant for years. Perhaps it was a song. Driving to work, and all of a sudden this melody puts you back in a place years from where you are now.

I am the queen of self sabotage.

When I was a senior in high school, I gave a speech about living life to it’s fullest and how the best years of life were still ahead of my fellow classmates … blah, blah, blah. Oh, I can dish it as good as anyone, but can I take my advice? Hell, no. I had a weekly column, where I sometimes felt like getting on a soapbox and preaching the almighty sermon of being a better person. Pretty laughable.

It seems that when things go right for me, that is when I crumble. That is when I take a look around and go, “Huh. Things are too good. Something must not be right.” It could be a relationship. For example, I could look at my current partnership and then look at all my past relationships gone wrong. And in each (or quite a few) of those case scenarios, I will wonder, “What could have happened if I was still dating them, would I be happier?”

In the same vein, I put myself back at the registrar’s office in college and go, “If I would have stuck with pre-law, would I be more fulfilled? Or if I would have gone into pre-medicine or teaching … where would I be?”

The list goes on and on. And with this “helpful” wondering, I get down. Really down. Into a rut that doesn’t seem to have a way out, and all I can do is wallow in the “what might have been’s.” I’m going to assume that I am not alone in this kernel of truth.

I have screwed up royally in the relationship department, in the work department, hell, in the living the good life department. And much of it is due to this form of self sabotage. I can go on blaming other people for my problems, for not being more successful, or for delaying my life – but I really only have myself to thank.

I had one of those dreams last night. One of those that you wake up from and get sucked into questioning where your life is really going. I chose one path, when I could have chose another.

And in this instance, while taking my morning shower, I really thought about it. Not the whiny “I should have done this instead of that … I screwed up and I should go back and fix it … What is wrong with me?” No, I actually thought about it this time. This dream was about a person from my past who is no longer in my life, or at least not in the way they used to be. Sure there are regrets, as there usually are. But there were reasons I chose not to go on that certain path. Definite reasons. And I could have chose to go down it, and perhaps I wouldn’t be that happy. Perhaps I would have had trust issues or worse. Perhaps I actually have made a really good choice for once.

And realized that I’m in a really good place in my life for once, and I really don’t want to sabotage myself.

If there is one thing now that I could preach on my soapbox, it’s this: Life is not black and white. I don’t believe that, anyway. In most things, there are loads of grey area. Sometimes you have to embrace that “greyness” and realize that it’s okay. If I could, I might’ve done a few things differently back in the day. But I can’t. And honestly, when people say that those instances made you who they are today, it’s true.

So today when I had that transportive dream back into my past, I could have easily headed down my usual destructive road to self sabotage. It still gave me tinglings of “what might have been.” Yet instead, I realized that I like my life. I am okay with the choices I am making in the present. And while those memories won’t ever disappear, I will put them to good use: My writing.

Repost: You’ve Got A Friend In Me

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A couple weeks ago, I thought I would re-blog some of my favorite posts from the past year. Yeah, well, that didn’t happen. And since I’ve been busy trying to catch up on other tasks and sleep, I thought I’d re-post “You’ve Got A Friend In Me”, which received a Freshly Pressed stamp and provided my blog with a lot more viewers.

I also wanted preface this by giving a bit of an update on Finn. Since December, he has a new home in Manhattan. He lives with another kitty (which took a little getting used to), but Finn’s new family loves him very much. Oh, and he has gained some weight, so he isn’t recognizable as the scrawny little thing he used to be! Good life, happy ending!

Little Finn

Little Finn

It’s not easy.

Moving to a new place of any kind can be a daunting task. Across country away from family and friends? Definitely not easy.

I have always been one for dreaming about the adventure, of meeting new people and experiencing new things. Anticipating the newness has always been preferable to the actual event.

Before hitting the road to New York City in the U-Haul, I had my hand pressed against the windowpane as I watched my parents wave back at me. I knew then and there, this was going to be harder than I had previously thought.

After arriving at the apartment building with all of our earthly possessions, we knew with the unloading process that our work was cut out for us. I stepped out of the truck and immediately, this small little black cat greeted us with a cute meow. He was skinny, definitely a stray, but was curious about what we were up to. While we were drenched in sweat, furiously unpacking the trailer in the August heat, he sat on a perch, occasionally angling his head this way and that. I hesitantly gave him a scratch on the head, afraid of fleas or a surprise bite or scratch. He brushed against me to show mutual affection.

The day after, he sat on our steps waiting for our emergence. He again rubbed up against my skin and smelled my hand. He looked so malnourished. I gave him bits of tuna and salmon from our canned goods.

A week went by and we found out a bit about his back story. Finn was a two-year-old black cat that had previously worn a collar around the neighborhood. Up until March, he was someone’s pet — that collar was unceremoniously taken off and he was left on his own. I have no respect for people who do that, absolutely none. Finn had to learn to fend for himself, which he took to begging off people and catching birds. Luckily, our neighborhood cared for him, as several people started feeding him from their pantries.

Being an animal lover, I went to the pet store and bought him some treats, a bag of dry food, and a bowl. Finn instantly became acclimated to my morning feedings outside of the apartment building. Dry food changed to wet food as I fell more in love with my feline friend.

A month had gone by. While I looked for jobs, Finn continued to sit on our top step or sleep in the flower garden nearby. He would peer into our windows from time to time, just to see if we were inside. When I needed a break from the computer, I came out and petted the loving creature. While his claws were ferocious looking, I would let him settle into my lap for a nap while I used my phone or read a book. He was always exhausted from only getting short bits of sleep outdoors.

The weather started getting colder and we became more worried about Finn’s well being. He had no place to go. He would sit and cry and cry outside the building, it was so hard to hear. One night, I couldn’t take it anymore. I made a makeshift litter box and bed for him in the living room and let Finn in. As hard as it sounds from a cat, he showed me more gratitude than most humans would. While I was afraid of fleas and mites, I was more afraid of my friend getting sick.

After that night, I tried to contact every animal organization and shelter in the area. No response. We wrote an e-mail to our apartment manager and were told, no, we could not keep a cat.

Through Finn, we started meeting our neighbors and really liking them. We started learning of all the good deeds our neighbors had been doing for the little guy. They were all worried about Finn. During Hurricane Sandy, one neighbor kept him in their garage with all that a cat could possibly need. Other people brought him in for a night or two from the cold. Finally, one neighbor had a friend that wanted Finn as a pet in his Manhattan apartment. Unfortunately, a nor’easter came through our area and we had another week of worrying about our neighborhood cat.

He secretly came and stayed in our apartment building, sleeping in our apartment at night. Finn went to the vet where we all learned that he was disease-, mite- and flea-free. He became used to being a house cat, while occasionally slipping out to hunt birds (he was quite good at that.) On the last night of his stay with us, he brought a dead bird to our doorstep. I truly believe the bloody mess was his way of giving us a gift. He was absolutely beaming standing next to his prey.

Finn left on Saturday morning, and while I know he is in a good home and luckier than most strays, I’m still pretty sad. He was my first new friend in this lonely city. Finn was there for me when I was the most homesick. And while I am sad to see him go, I am forever thankful for this little angel that stepped into my life during a time of great transition. I desperately needed a friend and Finn desperately needed me. I am getting used to this strange place, meeting new people, and New York City isn’t as daunting as it first was. Finn is now getting used to being a big city kitty, and I’m getting settled in as well. I will not forget his friendship and as sappy as it might sound, that little guy will forever be in my heart. Thanks, Finn.

The Dance: Wedding Blog No. 2

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The past few weeks have been a whirlwind, as the engagement quickly turned to the wedding planning phase. Dress. Check. Date. Check (huge check!). Venue. Check. And now, I (and my wonderful wedding planner Mom) have five short months to get everything in order. I wasn’t planning on having such an early wedding, but that is just how it seemed to work out best, which I’m totally okay with.

Before the whole process of calling our wedding party and seeing if our date jived with our immediate family, Nate and I did something pretty fun and spur of the moment. We watched “The Notebook.” Yes, he sat through this cry-fest, and while he liked parts and disliked others, it was what happened afterwards that is worth mentioning.

We were listening to some older music, Jimmy Durante and Perry Como, when I asked him if he ever learned to dance. I mean, we both have high school danced at various events, and that’s all fine and dandy, but that’s not what I meant. Could he dance in a square? Could he dance the old fashioned way that I find so appealing? For me, a lifelong attachment to community theater, I had learned various simple dance moves for different roles that I have played. And they have stuck with me. And after a glass of wine, he was interested in trying it out.

So there we were, in the middle of our living room, the coffee table pushed to the corner, dancing side by side. There was awkwardness, stumbling, and even a little frustration. Eventually, we were able to match our steps enough to dance slowly together to “As Time Goes By.” And while it wasn’t completely in sync, it worked out quite nicely. That was one of those times I can say I will always remember fondly.

Yesterday, we put together a tentative playlist of various love songs from our favorite bands. And after a couple hours had gone by, I realized that while this whole planning process will be hectic, at times, it can be a totally fun and freeing experience. I learn more about my future spouse each day, and look forward to many more of these moments in the months to come.

NYC is bad for my complexion

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So not real.

So not real.

Finally realizing that New York City-based television dramas are pretty much the furthest from the truth. Everyday it becomes a much more tangent idea, and I no longer strive to be that girl who got off the bus from Iowa to make it big in NYC.

Anyone who imagines a Sex In The City reality when moving or visiting NYC, dream on.

Sarah Jessica Parker sticking her hand up in the air, balancing in five-inch heels and bouncing in a cute sun dress with the perfect makeup and styled hair … sure that can happen, but two minutes into that, it’s a different story.

One, like I have said before, if you are like a majority of people in the editorial field in NYC, you can’t afford to take a taxi for every errand, not going to happen.

So if you planning on wearing your Manolo’s, you may find that you’ll be hoofing it down the street or trekking in the subway. And that is usually a blast. If you are going to be walking, expect blisters. I don’t care what shoes they are, if you aren’t wearing something with a grandma sole and socks, or some kind of hiking sandal – yeah, your feet are going to hate you. Actually, any shoe is going to hate you. Most of my favorite pairs barely have a sole attached, with the amount of walking I have been doing. And my tennis shoes? Fugetaboutit.

And the subway. Yeah, it’s either freakin’ freezing or hotter than Hades down there. So your make-up is going to fry off your face, your hair is going to frizz and turn flat, and that beautiful frock will probably have sweat stains. You’ve been warned.

I’ve come to know that pretty well. With my baby fine hair, it will go into a bun. My makeup will melt off, and I’m going to be all sorts of stank after walking a mile and a half plus a subway ride. And after all that, your super air-conditioned office building will freeze you out. High five weather!

It’s kind of the same for everyone, though. You store extra hairspray, deodorant, a bag of makeup and an extra cardigan at your desk, and hope for the best.

Sometimes, every once in awhile, you will catch a glimpse of one of those magical unicorns that somehow manage to look blissfully perfect through the summer months. But I’ve got it figured out. They are aliens and should not be trusted.

The Notebook (yeah, I’m going there)

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Hey girl. It’s okay if we cheat on our diets. But I’ll never cheat on you.  - That is what my fiancé just sent me via text. And then I knew. It’s finally time to introduce him to The Notebook.

It’s not going to be a huge surprise for him. I mean, he actually is quite the Ryan Gosling fan, and can quote many of his “Hey Girl” memes off the top of his head (and come up with some mighty fine ones himself). Yet, film after film of Gosling’s sad puppy dog eyes, we haven’t gotten around to watching the tearjerker enchilada of all of his movies together.

And honestly, I think he wants to see it. Before seeing A Place Beyond The Pines, Crazy, Stupid, Love and Blue Valentine (yes, we go to a lot of movies), he always half joked of seeing the motherload of Ryan’s movies. When discussing which stars we find the hottest, if he has to choose male, it’s always his main man R.G. (For the record, for me – always Harrison Ford (without an earring) for men and Kate Beckinsale or Rachel Weitsz for women.)

I have never been a huge fan of Nicholas Sparks’ novels, but the movie versions always seem to top the actual written word. I remember renting The Notebook, not wanting to see it in the theaters with all that “hype” (although, secretly, I kind of did). And as a chick flick, this does rank pretty high in my book. Illness, death, a torrid romance, having to choose, flowery speeches, passionate moments – it really does have all of what every romantic film checklist requires.

And hey, Jessica Simpson and R. Kelly both claim that the movie somewhat contributed to their divorces. Gosling also has heard of people breaking up due to the film. So, obviously the piece did something right (or wrong, whichever way you want to see it).

So, I loaded The Notebook as my top queue pick on Netflix, and I’m getting pretty excited about its arrival in my mailbox. It’s just one of those movies that I never thought we’d ever watch together, but after he sat down last weekend to watch a Lifetime movie – I have a good feeling about this. :)

The Dress: Wedding Blog No. 1

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“I don’t know.”

There was a flurry of questions hurled my way while I was back in Iowa this past weekend. The biggest was, “when?” Of course, I was expecting that, but I just didn’t want to think about it yet. I have been missing my home state something fierce, and I just wanted to relax and was not ready to plan out something with infinite details.

But the questions popped up basically wherever we went, and we finally had to make a few general decisions – first choice venue, who we would like in our wedding party, food, music – of course, very basic and nothing set in stone. And honestly, it felt great to list out a few ideas and have some consensus with family members.

Although, there are quite a few unknowns when it comes to planning my wedding, there have always been a handful of certainties. One, music. It has to be good. If live music is available (and awesome), even better. Food. I want a fantastic spread available to all my party attendees. Fun. I hate stuffy events. I don’t like a lot of fanfare and presentation, instead, I want it to be just a big party. Sorry for no details, but until I get some things figured out and definite, I’d like to knock on wood and not detail my dream wedding.

But there is one thing that has always been pretty obvious in my mind: The dress. I’ve watched all those reality wedding dress like the next girl, but I have never really wanted to go to a fancy shop and try on crazy amounts of dresses. No, I have had my dress pretty much picked out since I was 19. That was the year I was introduced to “Funny Face.” An Audrey Hepburn fan to the core, that was my dress and haven’t considered anything else as an option. Yes, I know that tea-length dresses are pretty much all the rage right now, but it isn’t just a trend I have to adhere to. No, I’ve tried to use Audrey as a model for most of my clothes when I have gone shopping in the past decade. WWAW (What would Audrey Wear?) Is it classic? Is it chic? Has she worn it in a movie? Then there is a likelihood that I have some kind of variation of it in my closet. No joke.

So on my first day back to Iowa, jetlagged me headed over to a local dress shop with my mother, niece baby Quynn, and my cousin (and wonderful friend) Elizabeth. I had a triple espresso Americano, so I was okay. I needed to try on a bridesmaid’s dress for E’s wedding. After the fitting, my mom casually mentioned to the owner of the shop that I recently became engaged. “Oh, yeah?” she said. “What are you looking for?” I kind of sighed, being so tired and not wanting to start this whole wedding hoopla so quickly. But I told her what I was looking for, and she opened up a book. And after flipping through a few pages, my mom stuck her finger on one of the pages. “That one.” Just a quick glance, and I knew she was right (she knows me so well). A 50′s style strapless sweetheart dress with a full tulle skirt, plus a tight lacy boat-neck top that completes the ensemble. I could see a long veil with a bow, my hair back in a classic bun. I knew exactly what shoes I would wear with it (navy spiked heels). So when she asked, “Do you just want to order it?”, I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t need to try it on, it was exactly what I had envisioned. The dress shop owner had tailored dresses for quite a few weddings in my family, including my sister’s, so I knew I was in good hands. And after she told me that she could make a toddler version of the wedding dress for my funky flower girl Quynn, I knew that I had come to the right place.

I’ve never looked forward to planning my own wedding, but I’ve definitely had some ideas on how I want it to be. And after this one decision, I realized that this whole planning biz isn’t so bad. Especially when I have awesome people to help. And if already having an Audrey-esque dress catapults the whole process, then I know it’s all going to be good. Real good.

Small Town Iowa

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I will be taking a break from writing for the next week as I head back to Iowa. So I will re-post some of my favorite blog posts and columns from the past few years.

iowatravel_1348849654_600I am so glad to be going home for so many reasons. But, I think one has been obviously glaring in the past couple days. A 15-year-old girl, Kathlynn Shepard, has been missing since Monday afternoon. Her abductor was later found dead, having committed suicide. Michael Klunder, of Stratford, was a Tier 2 sex offender and had committed quite a list of horrendous crimes. He was released from prison on Feb. 25, 2011, after serving half of a 41 year sentence. He kidnapped Kathlynn and an unnamed 12-year-old girl, who was able to escape.


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This story is shocking and absolutely sickening. I remember seeing Klunder’s face regularly, when I was a reporter at The Daily Freeman-Journal. I would check the sex offender list quite often, to see if there was new faces or charges. The fact that he served only half his sentence, well, I could go on quite a long time about that, getting pretty angry, but no.

Instead, I want to focus on why I love central Iowa so much. Local media coverage, especially the Dayton Leader, have done a fantastic job getting the information out to the public. Law enforcement has done a spectacular job, and local businesses have been helping as much as they possibly can. The town and surrounding communities have poured all their resources into one task: Finding Kathlynn alive. According to the Dayton Leader, food, drinks, bug spray, you name it has been provided to search teams from a barrage of individuals. Yet, this is not unexpected out of small town Iowa. No, it’s kind of a given.

When a tragedy strikes, everyone gets together and tries to solve the problem. Whether it is someone dealing with an illness, a tornado disaster, or a kidnapping – as hard as it is to imagine happening in this area – people pull up their boot straps and get going. I love that about central Iowa.

While I wait for good news to pop up on my news feed at my desk in NYC, I thank all the people who are doing all that they can to find this little girl.