My first Mardi Gras....

Well, it's started. I attended my first official Mardi Gras parade on Saturday. I would have been at the first one of the season the previous Saturday, but parking is a bitch in the quarter. The parade itself was somewhat meh. Don't get me wrong, it was better than 95% of the parades I've seen in my life, but for this extravagant event, it seemed kind of, almost, half assed. I've been assured by my local friends that it was one of the smaller ones, and they only get better. Here's hoping.

The one I think I'm most looking forward to is the Krewe of Muses on Thursday night. It's the only all female Mardi Gras parade, and their throws include intricately decorated shoes. I'm keeping my fingers crossed I'll catch one, preferably with my hands, and not my face.

My friends start to arrive on Saturday (send good thoughts to my bestie, apparently she was in the hospital last night, trooper that she is), and the craziness will be in full swing. I'm excited about the parade that goes through my neighborhood; I hear it's pretty incredible. I'm hoping my liver and almost 30 year old body hold out...I've been noticing signs of "lack of party ability" lately, and trying to live by the "you're only as old as you feel" mantra. Short skirts and tight tops are helping, but we'll see what shakes out this weekend.

I'm not sure if I'm more excited about Mardi Gras, or if I'm more excited to show my best friend all the things I love about this city. I can't wait to take her to Parkway, and Sucre, and walk around City Park, and show her where we play kickball, and get a photo op in the Sinkhole...but I can't help but feel like there's something overshadowing it and I won't be able to share everything I want to. And I worry about the next time she'll come back. It's an awesome city, so I hope that she does, and not for something like this, or Jazzfest, just some random Wednesday perhaps, and we can play trivia at Half Moon, or I can give her the experience of a Random Bar Night. It'll be fun for sure....just different I suppose.

Just so you know....

I have been writing. And keeping up with my promise of updates once a week. It's just that the last couple of them? Well, they haven't been so good. I don't want to scare you off, so I'm keeping them to myself for a bit. Tweaking them every couple of days and letting myself heal and eventually they'll be up. I'm trying to heal myself emotionally and I think I'm close. Now if I could just kick this nasty cold and then I'll be healed emotionally and physically. Well, as close as I can be.

Sometimes the wheels have to come off so you can be put back together whole again. Maybe not even completely off, maybe it's just simply a day/night of letting completely go. And going completely balls to the wall. And ass shaking. Always with the ass shaking. Sometimes it's a rejection that makes you wonder what the hell you were doing in the first place. But it's always something little that makes that lightbulb go off above your head and think, "A ha! That's it! The eff was I thinking?!?". And then it's back to being good.

For all the morose words I've put into this computer the last couple of weeks, I really am feeling better. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel both personally and professionally, and for the first time all year, I KNOW it's not a train. It's a hopeful light. One that's making me smile, right here, right now. An unforced, completely real smile. I've missed that. It's nice to have it back.

Only two weeks remain between today and Mardi Gras. Less than that until my best friend in the entire world comes to visit me. Words can't even begin to describe how excited I am, and I wouldn't want to try because I don't feel they'd do my thoughts justice. It's going to be one hell of a week and I can't hardly wait. Because I'll finally have reached the end of the tunnel, and then my whole world opens up again. And it's going to be amazing.

Month Complete.

Hard to believe today is Feb 1st kids. It's true what they say: the older you get, the faster time goes. It's super hard to believe that I'm going to be 30 in just over three months. Time's going to fly. It looks like I'm going to book my ticket home this week (or maybe I'll wait a couple until I get my bonus).

This weekend was a blur. Friday night was the going away party for my counterpart at work. Holy shinkes was it a good time. I was tasked with coming up with a speech to 'roast' him with, and it turned into a top ten list that ended up being pretty good. Turns out I am funny when I'm sober. Whodathunkit?

Saturday started out as a train wreck, and finished up much the same way. I was supposed to take a friend to the airport early in the AM, and as it turns out, going to a going away party the night before is not conducive to getting people to the airport at 6. I hope someday she forgives me.

Then we had our kickball game. It was a makeup from the previous Monday. Leaving the Frat House while it's still daylight...it's an interesting phenomenon. We all kind of had our Varsity Blues moment, but it was still the same day. After the kickball festivities wound down, we headed off to the sinkhole. The story of sinkhole will need it's own post....it's a good one. After a few hours of sinkhole, we walked to Juan's Flying Burrito. Dee. Lis. Cious. Then onto Parlays for a kickball party...and Sunday was a day of recovery.

It's been a good start to the month, kids. Let's hope it continues.

Tough.....

"Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option." - Mark Twain

I have difficulty. Everyone does, but I have difficulty expressing it. This is vulnerable me, the one I don't show very often and not to very many people. Only the ones that don't judge. My friends. The ones that are family. The ones that are ok with hairy legs and unwashed hair. The ones that appreciate me when I wear makeup, and not because I look different or better or whatever. Because they KNOW. And so it's been a challenge to keep up that strong face. And the only thing to keep from crying is to be angry, whether it be a situation in life or a client or that stupid can for running out of Diet Coke.

I really have difficulty with the above quote. It makes so much sense, it's almost absurd, yet it is so difficult to put into practice. Whether it be a colleague or subordinate, a friend or a relative, a boy I like or one that likes me, a passerby on the street, it's difficult to actually take a step back and recognize it for what it is. I know I have my fair share of "options", and I like to keep them open. But when the shoe is on the other foot, it hurts. Or you're oblivious to it. But is ignorance really bliss? Isn't it better to have and not need than need and not have? Life isn't fair, never has been, never will be, so what's the harm in keeping that someone on the back burner for a little while?

Funny enough, I find myself currently stuck in a sort of "black hole" of the above quote....not being prioritized, yet not in the realm of options. And still, having options, but not prioritizing them. It's a weird feeling, empty, a theme of the week. This feeling of indifference is a new one, no, not new, but unfamiliar? No, not that either. Rare. Complete and utter indifference is such a weird feeling. It should be empowering, should it not? Or is it meant to be empty? There's a glimmer of hope, there always is. But after spending so much time of life hoping for that glimmer to appear, when it finally does, there's no reaction at all. Is it sad to consider that progress?

End of the month...

Wow. I need to dedicate more time to this. Just figured out my NY resolution. Once a week, whether it needs it or not, this blog is getting updated. Unlike my 12 resolutions of 2010 (all of which I failed at, I think), I'm going to stick with one and do it. Pick one thing, and it gets done, excellently. 2-3 things and maybe 2 get done, marginally. Any more than that, and it's setting yourself up to fail. And I hate that. Failing. Almost as much as being helpless.

So, let's start the new year off. Almost a month late, but whatever. My first thoughts on new years day this year included, "how did I get home?", "how did I get to wherever I am (which clearly is not home)?", and "where are my pants?". To answer them, I didn't get home until later in the day, for I was dogsitting my dear friends dear friend. I believe a couple of saints delivered me to the couch, though I don't really have any recollection of the ride home. Other than talking a lot. I think. Pants were safely recovered....for some reason, I thought under my pillow was a good place for them. And to answer the question I know you're all asking, I woke up alone, save for my friends pup.

It was a good new years, as good as one can be. There was flip cup and friends and Patron Cafe and gummi bears and keg stands and hats (not just party hats, fedoras!), and champagne and dancing and most importantly of all, no frakking snow! The only way it could have been better would have been to have my friends from MN here. After getting through Christmas sans friends and family (but with a cute Brit), I was a bit blue about starting the new year off with people I've known less than half a year. I'm keeping a positive attitude about this move, but there are some days when I sit back and think, "I wish I could click my heels three times, and be back in the 612.". Maybe my friends and family will wise up and move south.

The Monday following, kickball started again, and all seemed to be right with the world. I joined another drinking team with a kickball problem, full of cute boys and fun girls, not the catty kind that I want to punch. We all get along pretty well, but aren't that great at kickball. Flipcup, however, we are undefeated. I feel as though I may have unintentionally created some drama, not because I wanted to, but because I made a decision last year without really thinking or understanding the situation. Obviously alcohol was involved, and I likely would have made the same decision, but only because I wasn't aware of the other entity present. I rarely make decisions to consciously hurt someone, and while that decision wasn't the one that could have hurt, it was the decision to make it known. I probably could have kept my mouth shut, but anyone that knows me knows that's rarely an option either...hence my kickball nickname, "Record Skip".

We've played three games, two losses and one tie. This week got rained out again so makeup games are on Saturday. Unfortunately half of our team won't be there, so hopefully we'll be competitive. I also signed up to edit our newsletter. It's a lot of work, but there was free tequila involved. Plus, it's nice to be a part of something new. And also, I'm super nerdy, so this is right up my alley.

My counterpart at work is leaving at the end of this week, off to brighter pastures across the city. He'll be doing the same thing at a bigger hotel and while I'm extremely happy for him, I'm sad. I'm really going to miss him, though I'd never admit it to his face. We're like siblings and I'm going to miss the camaraderie and the venting and him making me cry at the bar all the time. He makes me think and asks the tough questions and while I don't always agree with his process or opinion, I love and respect him. And I really, truly hope he's happy in his new role.

Along with him leaving, comes twice as much for me until we get a replacement. We are also down an admin assistant so I've been super crazy at work the last couple of weeks. I had a big group in this week and an even bigger one next week, and I know I'm not at the top of my game. I can only be in so many places. I'm not responding to e-mails as quickly, and I think I'm missing the spark in my eye. That twinkle that is there when I'm really happy with something. I should be happy with my work, my clients sure are. For last year, my overall customer satisfaction was over 90%. I'm striving for perfection this year, and knowing my responsiveness is slower than normal is really hitting me hard. Harder than it should. Because I want so desperately to be 100%. Because if I am, I'll feel validated. That this move was the right thing to do. That this job is my passion. That I can overcome. And I'm worried that it's starting out all wrong.

I'll leave with a thought, one that I discovered this morning on something so insignificant as a luggage tag. "We wander for distraction but we travel for fulfillment." -Hilare Belloc It's true. It hit me like a sock full of oranges. I'm at my happiest when I'm traveling. The only trip I took last year that wasn't home was to Arizona for 48 hours. I'm sad that I'm not going to Mexico next month with the greatest people I know, save for my parents. I'm sad that the only trips I have planned for this year are back home. I'm scared that I won't make it to Europe or the Caribbean or somewhere else fabulous. It makes me want to cry that I didn't go to New York last year. Because all of those places fulfill a simple need in me to be completely anonymous. To be able to walk around all day and night and not know a soul until we're sitting across the bar, or exhibit hall of a museum and one of us catches the others eye and says "Hello.".

It may not be this year, but next year, I will definitely have those moments again. Because I'm tired of wandering.