Just in case I go into a sugar coma...

I think I just ate the world's most unhealthy rice crispy treat. The lovely folks from the deli downstairs apparently believe that the more marshmallow and butter, the better. They couldn't be more right.

To go with that delicious dessert, I've enjoyed a cup of coffee [with plenty of sugar and cream], sugary cereal and a Dr. Pepper.

So in case I go into a sugar coma, I want to update the Internet on the great things going on.

Certain factors in my unhappiness have disappeared. I'm getting closer to buying my own place. My stomach hasn't hurt me much in the past few weeks. And my new job seems to only get better with time.

And this weekend has to be the best weekend I've had in years. I watched two wonderful friends get married, and that restored my faith in love and relationships. I went out with some old friends, and met a bunch of new friends. And then, I ate the best chicken biscuit in the world.

So Internet, I'm better now. Now that I've learned to dance in the rain, I am able to dance in the sunshine.

When life becomes just too funny to handle...

After the Nashville gas crisis, I am convinced that many of our dear Nashvillians must be inbred.

Let me preface this post by saying that I often like to sit in public places and just watch people. I did it a lot when I was in college, and am trying to find interesting new places to do it in Nashville.

The best I've found so far is over at FIDO, my absolute favorite coffee shop.

So I'm sitting here, sandwiched between a young couple just getting to know each other [including a guy who thinks EVERYTHING is funny and laughs entirely too loud] and a girl who is literally diving into her GRE prep book. And if she coughs near my coffee one more time, I might throw her through the window.

People here are hilarious. You have everyone from emo kids to parents with kids to adults who might as well be kids. And don't forget the standard college kid population.

But none of these characters is near as funny as the Mick-Jagger-wannabe that just walked in the door.

So my question is, what are these people thinking? Like that guy who decided that it was ok to stand no more than two inches behind me? Or that girl who wouldn't stop smiling or talking to the guys at the counter about lights? And what about the mother whose child is actually running toward the door yelling, "BYE!!! BYE!!! BYE!!! BYE!!!"?

That is why I love people-watching. It's just too funny not to do it.

You're so Nashville if...

I can't wait to see this in the next Nashville Scene's "You're so Nashville if..."

God clearly understands my caffeine needs.

There is a cappuccino machine at my office. Need I say more?

It's Monday morning, so there's not much to say except that I'm really excited about the beginning of a new week.

Thanks so much to Stephanie for sending me this wonderful quote that popped up on her iGoogle:

"He who spends time regretting the past loses the present and risks the future." - Francisco de Quevedo

Lackluster Love

Because I worked at a radio station for nearly a year, my musical tastes grew beyond what I thought was even possible.

With special thanks to Justin Hammel for introducing me to this great artist, I'd like to say that I am probably one of Kyle Andrews' greatest new fans.

His song, Lackluster Love, is nothing short of amazing, and speaks a lot of what I've been trying to explain to people for a long time now.

I believe that you'd be hard pressed to find a couple that says that their relationship is amazing 100% of the time. They always love each other. They're super-romantic. They never fight. And tension is never an issue. Doubts have never been raised.

If you do find these people, ask them how long they've been together. I'd be willing to bet large sums of money that it's been less than a week.

This isn't about being bitter and cynical because the ending of my last relationship turned out to be a pretty serious disaster. This is about wishing that people, mainly that specific person, would understand what a real relationship entails.

The chorus of the song is my anthem.

A lot of people are under the impression that I was a jerk to my boyfriend at the time. All they see is that he was hurt.

I hate that he was hurt. And I hate that I was the person that made it happen. But I was hitting that point, not just in our relationship, but in my life where I had doubts. About our relationship. About my career. About myself.

I was doing what I could. I needed lots of support and space at the same time, but I couldn't figure out how to explain that.

So people think I quit loving him. He thought I quit loving him. Which couldn't be further from the truth.

I just needed a lot of reassurance. I needed to know that it was just a rough patch and that I was going to be ok. I needed to know that I was actually headed in the right direction.

But instead, I got a lot of accusations. I got a lot of snide remarks about my friends. I got a lot of really horrible jokes made at my expense.

I gave what I had, and it was taken for granted. It was never enough.

So I gave up. Nothing was going to change. And that hurt.

I got my space and realized all of the things that went wrong. Hind sight really is 20/20. And I wanted to go back and fix those things, but got a lot of resistance.

It was awful. It wasn't just that he didn't care about the relationship, it was that he didn't even care about the friendship.

After a couple of months of fighting like hell just to have that friend, it ended abruptly with a rather horribly rude conversation with what I thought was a mutual friend.

It was then that I realized that it really wasn't ever going to change.

The larger part of me has stopped hurting about it because he treated me so badly. But the other part of me really hates to see a person act so immature and know that you tried so hard to steer him away from that.

My friend, Julie, said it best:

You work so hard for it, and giving it up is like ripping your heart out.

[By the way, I highly suggest you check out her post, "When who you are becomes who you were..."]

I don't like giving up. I'm a fighter until it becomes grossly apparent that my fight is useless. I did it with my last job when I realized that there just wasn't going to be a chance for me to grow professionally. And I did it with this relationship when I realized that he's just not ready to be in an adult relationship... or friendship.

So while I'm still hurting a little bit, I'm thinking of all the exciting things I have to look forward to. First dates. First kisses. The awkwardness of getting to know new people. The glory of being in a job where I feel appreciated and like I have a lot to offer to the company. The joy of knowing that I'm going to grow there. The excitement of buying my own place. The fun of decorating and entertaining.

I've got a lot of great things to focus on. And I've got a lot of great friends who have been there through the hurt and uncertainty, and who will continue to do it 10,000 more times because we love each other more than anyone could ever know.

It's exciting.

I can't sleep. And I have entirely too many blank notebooks.

As soon as I get things settled, the bottom falls out. Tonight was the final blow, and I am done.

But I know that I tried. I know that I loved and cared the best I could.

I know that it wasn't worth it. I know that I will be better off not knowing them, not having them in my life.

But I do forgive them for hurting me so.

I am growing, and suggest they do the same.

Until then, I am continuing to heal. And, as Aimee suggested, I am asking God to reveal Himself to me, and to show me His plan for my life.

And as another friend of mine suggested, I am going to literally count my blessings. Every day. In a book. Now, I just have to pick one of the 13 blank notebooks I have stored away...

My eyelashes are falling out... five at a time.

Actually, I've lost a total of 11 or 12 eyelashes throughout the day. Oh, and did I mention that I have a couple of grey ones?

I think it's how my body is recovering from all of the stress I've endured over the last six or so months. [Or over a lifetime if you want the real sob story...]

So I'm kicking back and listening to my Will Hoge CD. He's a fantastic bluesy rock artist from Nashville, and I feel that my mood calls for it. I'm not terribly depressed, I'm not extremely energetic. And it's a great album to just kick back and have a good ol' brew.

---

If you know me at all, you know that I enjoy a good conversation. I don't like to talk just for the sake of breathing hot air. I like to converse.

Some of my favorite topics, if you haven't picked up on it quite yet, generally run along the lines of growth. Personal growth. Professional growth. Spiritual growth.

The best part of those discussions usually involve walking the line of grossly inappropriate. I love it. I live for it.

It's no surprise that I subscribe to, and religiously read Dooce.com and The Brazen Careerist. These go under my "Absolute Favorite Blogs of ALL Time" category.

Heather at Dooce.com is absolutely amazing. She crosses all of the lines that I'm still a little afraid to come near. She's got the perfect attitude [a bit cynical in her writing, but you can tell she's generally enjoying life].

Penelope at The Brazen Careerist has so much to say about how to be a decent human being, usually in a workplace setting. Her post about finding your identity and self-knowledge today was about eight shades of excellent.

To quote part of her post:

By examining how I fit into the generations, I can see the larger context of myself and my community. And the larger a context you can see yourself in, the more varied your self-knowledge will be. When it comes to making choices in your life, you will make better choices with better self-knowledge—understanding how you are the same as other people. If you know how you are the same, you can leverage the knowledge and research what has come before you.

This is so important when it comes to effective communication.

Sure, it's easy to lose yourself. I did it for an entire year and I'm just now trying to pick up the pieces from it. And because I didn't know who I was, I didn't know how to talk to anyone about how confused I was.

And it wasn't until I started making major mistakes that I realized I needed to take a step back and regroup. I'm still working on it. I have to because I've lost some of the things I wanted. I fought for it for quite a while, but I'm tired of being treated like crap. It's not worth it.

And now that I have gotten a least a few of my little ducks in a row, I am able to talk [in great length] about what I think and feel. But to some people, it doesn't matter. To some people, I'm a broken record. And to those people, I'll pray that you'll learn to grow up and act like a decent human being instead of a consistently drunk dumbass.

To the people who have listened, I thank you. I've ended about ten posts with this, but I can't say it enough.

You understand what reaching out and communicating means.

It means being strong enough about who you are to be able to be strong for the person who doesn't. It's a shame I didn't start complaining a year ago. I could have saved myself months of heartache and pointless fighting.

So now I'm focusing my energy not on what I've lost, but on what I've gained and what I've got coming my way.

New. Exciting. Amazing.

I'm having a musical love affair with Gomez.

After listening to my Ben Folds station on Pandora for a week straight, I've decided to take a few breaks during the day and play my Gomez CD over and over... and over again.
---
I'm three days into my new job and I love it. I freaking love it. I have a "to do" list that is three pages long, and I'm super excited to get cracking on them!

Finally settling in there has really raised my spirits. I love the people. I love the work. And the more I learn about the company, the more excited I get about being a part of it.

And the best part- my stomach doesn't hurt anymore! [Until today at lunch when I forgot to tell the Mexican restaurant to replace the beef with chicken. I'm paying for that right now, and may have to skip dinner...]

If you follow me on Twitter or on Facebook, then you have already seen that I bought a Wii and that the effect of doing so has increased my quality of life more than you could ever know.

But while my quality of life is significantly better than it was a week ago, I still have periods of sadness, frustration and general rage. I still have so many questions. I still have so many ideas to work out. I still have so many things to change.

So in the interest of not burning out, I should take some things off my plate. But I'm just not that person.

Here's to hitting the ground running and loving it.

Taking a break.

I've put in my 200%, so now I'm letting go and taking a break.

I think the folks at Life is Good made this shirt just for me.

Makes me so happy!

The one thing I'll miss about being a receptionist...

Tomorrow is the first day at my new job. The first day toward my amazing career path. And while I am so glad to know that I will not be spending 40 hours a week waiting for a phone to ring*, I still think I will miss getting to meet the most random, and sometimes most amazing people.

[*Disclaimer: I, in no way, mean any disrespect to people who work the front desk. I honor these people because of what they have to put up with.]

Aimee Fortney, for example, is one of the greatest individuals that I have come across during my time with Lightning 100. She came in to pick up concert tickets, and we instantly bonded over our rather intense obsession with our new Mac laptops.

She told me about the website she built with her Mac, and I told her about my graphic design projects. We traded email addresses and went about our business.

Aimee is one of those people that I mentioned in some previous posts. She is one of the many wonderful people that have contacted me to make sure that I am okay, and to let me know that they are praying for me.

While I'd love to just post our email conversation here and be done, there are several very personal things that, quite frankly, need to stay in my Gmail account.

But, because I use this blog not only as an emotional output, but also as a tool for others experiencing life and all of its antics, I am going to share what I've learned from what used to be a complete stranger.

I didn't have to tell her what was wrong. She read my blog and knew. She sent me a comforting message telling me not to get discouraged. And then she said the magic words that I've been repeating to myself since I first heard them spoken: That which doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

She's right. It's obvious. She said that it's through these difficult times that we find our inner strength and our true selves.

Like I said, she's right. It's obvious. But I've watched so many people get hurt, shake it off and move on. Sure, it's brave... cavalier even... but it doesn't provide the healing and personal growth that a person needs.

It's obvious. The answer. When someone is experiencing pain on any level- physical, emotional, financial, etc.- the auto answer is to tell that person that what doesn't kill them makes them stronger. But what a lot of people leave out, and what Aimee [among several others] reminded me of, is what happens in between the thing that nearly kills you and the strength that comes from it.

You have to hurt. You have to heal. You have to grow.

You will not find answers in distractions- being with large groups of people all the time, taking on extra projects, eating emotionally or drinking to forget. You can't drown yourself in those things to distract yourself from the hurt.

You have to hurt. You have to heal. And you have to grow.

But while you're doing all of these things, you have to remember that on the other side of the pain is strength. Know that it's going to hurt, and know that it's going to get better.

So, as Aimee suggested, I'm not letting the "bastards" get me down. [Did I mention that she's a self-described beer-drinking-Baptist who also swears? I love it because it fits in well with me, a beer-drinking/wine-sipping-Church-of-Christ-girl who appreciates inappropriate language.]

It's officially been 48 hours since my last hysterical breakdown, and I'm proud. I'm proud to say that I cried so hard that I couldn't breathe that night. I'm proud to say that I have to have a minimum of two packs of tissues in my purse at all times because, at any moment, I may fall apart. I'm proud to say that I am more broken now than I ever have been in my entire life.

But I'm also proud to say that I've got support. I'm proud to say that I know that once this storm has passed, I will have grown. I will have danced. And I will have gained strength.

Still weathering the storm...

As I sit here, rocking out to the Ben Folds channel on my Pandora, I'm thinking of all of the people that have reached out to me through my blog. People I haven't heard from in years and people I barely know have sent me messages asking if I'm okay.

To be honest, I'm not okay right now. I'm hurting more than I ever have in my entire life. I'm finding it hard to be happy about the good things going on around me. I'm constantly sick. I can't eat. And my love life has gotten my emotions all tied up and twisted together. It's a horrible feeling.

But I'm making teeny-tiny steps toward being a better version of myself. I'm coming around to the fact that I will be okay. I just need to sit back and let God do His work and teach me how to do things better next time.

One of my very best friends gave me a card the other day to encourage me and my faith in happiness. The front of it has the most amazing quote that may just become my mantra during this confusing period of my life.

Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain. -Unknown

The first thing that caught my eye and made me smile was the word, "dance." I'm fascinated by the world of dance.

But I picked the card up again today and re-read the quote.

Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.

It's something that can only be learned from experience. But sometimes you need a slap in the face to be reminded of these things you may already know. This card was my slap in the face.

So while I'm continuing to weather this storm, I'm going to learn how to dance in the rain. And love every minute of it.

I can't keep a journal.

Writing is my thing. I love it. I'm not great, but I love it. But when it comes to writing in my "diary," I either hit a block or develop an episode of verbal diarrhea.

For most, writing in a journal is therapeutic. It helps to write out all of the things that are bothering them. But for me, it just intensifies whatever emotion I'm feeling.

But if I don't write it out, it just replays in my mind. Over and over and over again. But if I do write it out, all I want is to share it. So people know what happened. So people know who I really am. Just so people will know.

So I go in circles. I feel it. I think it. I write it. I feel it. It hurts me. I feel it. I think it. I don't write it. I think it. I think it. I think it. I feel it. It hurts me. It's a vicious endless cycle of emotions.

Where is the therapy in writing if no one is able to read it and understand?

Can you feel a little love?

Missing someone is a part of loving them. If you're never apart, then you will never know how strong your love really is.

I am a pretty severe Facebook addict, particularly when it comes to the bumper sticker application. I've been known to go on bumper-sticker-sending rampages, and have planned to do a few more in the near future.

This phrase was on one of the bumper stickers I found today, written in the cutesy font that only twelve-year-olds can truly appreciate. But the message itself is something that I've felt strongly for several people.

While I could go into depth about the most recent person I'd like to send this to, I think I'd rather tell you that if it didn't harm the environment, I would copy this phrase onto a thousand pieces of paper and post it all over my family's house. For no other reason than to tell them that if they don't quit busting through my door while I'm (a) asleep, (b) reading, or (c) breathing, I am going to explode.

It's not that I love my family any less than I ever have. It's just that being around them all the time means I have time or space to miss them.

But, like I said, a thousand sheets of paper just to tell my family to leave me alone causes my carbon footprint to increase ten fold. So I guess I'll have to figure out an environmentally friendly way to get the message across.

Time heals some wounds, but deepens others.

It's amazing the transformation in my attitude since my last post. Somehow, writing it out for others to see and understand helped me to cope with these things that I struggle with. I walked around for the rest of the day as if many, many weights had been taken off my shoulders.

So what about time? Sounds like there was no time between my feeling the epitome of nervous and the exhilaration of not worrying.

The answer is that I cannot waste time finding the answers to many of my questions, because they are not mine to answer.

The title of this post explains a lot. Time heals some wounds, deepens others.

In many situations, time will present answers to questions... many many questions. But they are generally the "whens."When will I find a fulfilling career? When will I be able to have a place of my own? When will I be ready to [insert activity here]?

For your "whys and whats," time will never help. It will only confuse and hurt. And if it's time you think you need, then you already know the answer to your "whys and whats," you're just waiting for the answers to your "whens" before you take your leaps.

So, as a good friend of mine says, "Be bold." Take your leaps. Or time may escape you.

I just put on Brent Frazier's cuff links.

Yeah, and given my lack of experience in applying cuff links, you could imagine the hilarity of those few moments.

I must say that Brent, from News Channel 5, is one of the friendliest and most outgoing people I have had come through this office. It's people like him that make me certain that I can be a positive person again.

A lot of people have been asking me if I've been ok. You've been noticing that I'm not myself anymore, and that I seem unhappy.

It's true. I have a lot of things going on in my life that make me unhappy. These are things that have been making me unhappy for a long time. These are things that have drained me of any motivation to be happy.

My career was unsatisfying. My relationships were unsatisfying. My living quarters were grossly unsatisfying.

And while some really great things are happening for me right now, I am still having a hard time with my other problems.

Life is hard, and I know this. I know that whatever you go through is meant to make you stronger. But when you're sick, no amount of rationalization is allowed.

While I was running, I forgot about a lot of my issues. Whatever it was, I knew that I could run it off. I had goals, and I was reaching them.

But after the marathon was over, things came crashing down.

So I've been seeing doctors about what's going on. Why have I not felt like myself in over a year? Why can I not eat anymore [which we all know was my absolute favorite thing]? Why am I so drained when the most I do in a day is sit at a desk?

We've gone through several scenarios. IBS? I've been dealing with that for years now, but I've never had an episode like this. Ulcers? We did the ultimate test for an ulcer... not it.

Then we started going through our other options: gallbladder, intestinal problems, emotional issues... and then he looked at me and said, "I think you'll need a colonoscopy."

In my head, I started freaking out. [WHAT?!? You want to put what, where?!? I have to drink what?!? When will I have time?!? @*^%*@$!!!] Once I had my inner voice composed, I mustered out a polite, "Why would I need this. I mean, do you really think it's necessary?"

"Yes," he said. "I'm one of those people who knows what it isn't, and will do what it takes to know what it is." Sure, I understand that.

And then he told me he just wants to rule out Chrohn's disease. Oh, and maybe do an abdominal CT to rule out any issues outside the organs.

Again, the internal freak-out ensued.

You see, my family has a history of digestive issues, the scariest of all involving stomach and colon cancers. So, when I heard what I've been afraid to hear for years, I am entitled to have a moment to rethink having even gone to the doctor. Because the irrational person in my head right now thinks that if I hadn't gone to the doctor, then this wouldn't be a possibility.

So, while I continue to lose weight, watch my meals get smaller and smaller and take more tests to rule out serious illnesses, I ask that you pray for me. Not just for the matters of my irritable bowels, but for my emotional well-being and strength.

And to those who are already doing this, and to those who have reached out over the past few weeks- THANK YOU. Your support means the world to me.