Mid-year Resolutions.

As I made so clear in a post back in December 2011, I am not the biggest fan of New Year's Eve. Nor do I really believe in making so called "resolutions" to implement post-midnight. I will admit, I did make a couple resolutions for 2012: A. to perfect cat-eye eyeliner (something I am happy to say on which I am making progress) and B. to finally sing "Apologize" at a karaoke bar, hand gestures & interpretive dance included. Obviously, I take myself very seriously come the New Year. Not.

I am much more a believer in goals that you make because of something you want or to perpetuate something you enjoy, rather than the calendar turning from December to January. I like goals that I begin to implement on a random weeknight - in this case, a random Monday in July.

My mom has been out of town for the past 5 days, and as a result, my poor, helpless (joking...) little corgis have had to spend 9 hours during the day locked up in the kitchen. To help compensate for putting them in "puppy jail" for the majority of the day the past few workdays, I have either taken them to the dog park (something we have to call the "pumpkin patch" around them or they get so excited they don't quite know what to do with themselves) or for little walks in a community park across the street from my apartment complex. Not only does it help them run some of their willies out, but I've also found it extremely satisfying and enjoyable. At the dog park (ahem, pumpkin patch) I get to meet adorable puppies and new people, and in the neighborhood park I get a little exercise, fresh air, and quality time with my tail wagging (well, in Bear's case, figuratively) babies. I think these evening jaunts might be just as beneficial to me as they are to them.

After tonight's light stroll, I decided to make some "July 23rd, 7 Months Into The New Year" resolutions: more walks. More outside after work. More ignoring my "tired" to indulge my puppies' "I need to get out of the house". So often we get caught up in our work week and just want to collapse at the end of the day with a glass of wine and whatever happens to be queued up on Netflix at the moment, so this is me resolving to do exactly the opposite.

Most of the time :)

♥mb.

happy.

I am happy to report that I am having an absolutely fabulous weekend.

At a time in my life when I still feel like the majority of my friends live in the "frozen North" (aka, Seattle) it is nice to be reminded that there are people who love me and like spending time with me down here as well. I suppose I always know it, but I tend to spend a lot more time missing the people who aren't here instead of really enjoying the people who are. And they are no less important, by all means. The only thing that separates them from the people at "home" (which one is my home, anyway??) is the time I've yet to spend with them and the memories I've yet to make. It has much more to do with my own personal shift in focus; on the here, the now - making this place become as integral to my life as Seattle has been.

Plus, California is splendid. And I think my new hobby is writing on my patio with a glass of white wine...

♥mb.

No rush to the altar.

Confession: I am a 20-something who is completely freaking out.

About all the engagements/weddings/babies/home-buying happening by my peers. Friends, family, acquaintances whose weddings I stalk shamelessly on Facebook. (On a completely related note, three different people on my Facebook newsfeed are getting married tomorrow...aaaaahhhh.) It’s terrifying me to my very core. I constantly see a stream of photos of weddings or sparkly diamonds or newly purchased homes whereas I post pictures of my dogs and the pretty food that I eat. #winning

Currently, I see the following pros to being married:

A.      Someone to help bring in groceries (they are heavy)

B.      Someone to watch sports with during the week (cuz who wants to watch baseball alone)

C.      Never having to sleep alone (not that I mind sleeping alone, I mostly am – yes, at 25 – still very    much afraid of the dark)

I also can see the benefits to having a pretty, sparkly rock (engagement ring), a super fun party with all my closest friends & family (wedding) and a lovely tropical vacay somewhere exotic (honeymoon). At the last wedding I attended –after being physically forced to go up as one of the “single ladies” – I could have caught the bouquet (it's logical trajectory ended in my hands) but instead ran away from it like it was trying to hurt me. In essence: I could not be LESS ready for a marriage.

But that doesn’t mean I am any less unsettled by the fact that people my age – even younger – are. We’ve always been so even – grade school, soccer teams, high school, Prom, track meets, college, Greek system, graduation – and then all of a sudden, we are on all different levels. When did this happen? And why can’t everyone just stop it already until I’ve had time to catch my breath & subsequently, catch up?

The truth is, it is scary. It sometimes makes me think that I somewhere along the lines missed the memo that I needed to meet the man of my dreams, get married, have a baby & own a home before I’m 30. What about that part where I am still trying to find myself at 25 and some change? We mustn’t skip over that step. I'm sure that someday, my wedding will be the happiest day of my life (it might surpass the day the Huskies upset USC in 2009, we will see) and that being a wife is going to sound pretty great to me, but that day certainly is not today. I remind myself that I am young. That I only have this time in my life to be free and selfish and make decisions solely based around me and no one else. My bedroom décor is my own. I don’t have to share a closet with anyone. If there are 5-6 empty shampoo bottles in my shower, the only person that concerns is me. I can decorate with nail polish bottles and sparkly, colorful hair ties.

My life is my own. And I’m not really ready to give that up yet.

♥mb.

No fireworks.

Tonight, there are no fireworks for me.

Not because there aren't any, but just because I wasn't feeling up to it. I may have been overtired or slipped some well-disguised gluten, but I just didn't have it in me to trek somewhere to watch pyrotechnics explode in the sky. In fact, about the only thing I did have in me was the energy to devour the better part of two In-N-Out fry orders covered in ketchup. At least I celebrated the eating part of the 4th.

It's something I think is funny about holidays - there is this status quo in society that you have to have fun plans/drink lots of beer/have the best day EVER! when, in reality, these holidays come every year. If I don't feel good on this 4th of July and would rather spend the evening watching South Park on my couch with my dogs, it's ok - 365 days from now (366 in a leap year) this holiday will come again. The fireworks will come again. The burgers, Americana music and ridiculously patriotic outfits you can only wear in support of USA sports or to a country concert will still be there in my closet. And maybe next year I will feel more up to it.

Besides, the fact that this 4th of July may be significantly less celebratory than past ones doesn't mean I love America or appreciate my freedom any less. And also, the Olympics start in 23 days and you bet your ass I will be making up for my lackluster Independence Day with public displays of America love come July 27th.

♥mb.