Like anyone else, I have certain years that stand out in my life as being far more challenging than others. For me, those years include 1994 and 2004. In all honesty, I'd have to rank 2015 right up there, even though it breaks that lovely 10 year time span. Or perhaps I'm not remembering 2014 clearly after everything that happened in the last year. Of course, there were some wonderful highlights, including the end of the immigration nightmare and finally being able to start life as a permanent family. I continued to grow in my new position at work. I saw my freelance career begin to bloom. I took up running again. I bought a new car. I started getting control over my finances. Winnipeg went to the beach for the first time. I got flowers from my dear one for the first time. I think my thyroid is finally under control. There were some unbelievable lows, including some rather vicious and violent fights and enough doubt and mistrust to suffocate the most faithful of people. T...

I came on here tonight to write a post about the process of grieving my mother's death, but the words did not want to form in a way that expressed what I was trying to say. Instead, I clicked on the "view blog" button and started reading through my post-divorce life. Sometimes I impress myself. Right now I feel like I've been to hell and back in the course of a single afternoon. I'm exhausted now, and not exhausted in the way I used to describe in my adventures in art and writing and spontaneous beach excursions that involved partial nude swimming under the light of a full moon. Right now my thoughts are swimming in the slightly opiate effects of a great bottle of wine. I'm feeling the associated calm and letting my mind go through the memories of the lift I carved out for myself juxtaposed with the chains I feel as I mire through work and the desperate attempt to survive. Surviving. Wishing for words. Wishing for a spark of hope in what seems like a d...

For the first time in more than a year, we made it through the pay period without borrowing money. Sort of. There was a snag with the tag for our new vehicle (bought before we started the program), and I had to take money out of the car repair fund to pay for it. As I stood at the ATM trying to figure out how much to withdraw, I decided to take out $175...just in case. The total transaction was $63, and the smart thing to do would have been to put the rest of the money back. You already know I didn't do that, but what you don't know is my rationale. I paid the new car payment (yes, payments!) one month early, so I knew we had that bit extra. But I also used this line of thinking earlier in the week when I wanted to buy something else. The Power of the $0 Budget There's a flaw in my thought process sometimes, and the truth is that the $0 budget is the best way to combat this. As I worked the numbers for December, I realized the power of this tool. After paying a...

Can we pretend that there's not been some ridiculous period of silence here? Can we pick up right where we left off? Can we go back to being friends? Life is in full swing here in the mountain. With the immigration process behind us and both sets of feet firmly planted in the U.S., we're now navigating the waters of living together without knowing there's a return flight waiting somewhere around the corner. No more monthly flights out of the country. No more running two households. No more dog kennels. No more rental cars. No more credit cards. We made the decision this week to get out of debt. I tallied up everything, and we currently owe $119,000. It's time to pay this off and create a life for ourselves in which we don't have to raid the change jar to go grocery shopping or dig around under the cushions for gas money or play the fun little game in which we make sure there is at least $1 of available credit on a card so we can fill the gas tank before t...

It seems the universe is trying to teach me a lesson, and I'm honestly not sure if I'm going to master it...mostly because it's difficult. I earned a Bachelors degree in two years, traveled to South America alone, and have weathered my share of relationship woes and losses, but this is just too much. I have to let go. I still remember the serenity of that moment. Last Sunday I reread the two Melody Beattie books that I have here (back from the therapy days). I entered therapy trying to save my doomed marriage, and my therapist recommended the books as a way to deal my overwhelming obsession with trying to control outcomes that involve other people. Beattie writes about co-dependency, and while I don't think I have issues with that  (mostly because I generally steer clear of addicts), I do see what I have in common. One of the key principles is moving beyond the obsession with someone else's behavior and channeling it into creating a life for yourself. She ...

As I stepped out of my clothes the other day before taking a shower, I caught a glimpse of my newly formed tan line that marked where my tank top rested during my run that day. Normally, such a sighting calls for a day of mourning which includes slathering every inch of my body with sunscreen, donning shirts, pants, and socks that cover every inch of my body, and spending the rest of the day indoors with the curtains closed. Then I berate myself for not having that same sense of urgency on a daily basis when I should wear sunscreen. My ideal running weather. I'm a white girl. My skin is pale enough that I can use baby powder to set my makeup. Skin cancer runs in my family along with the blonde hair and blue eyes. I often tell people this when they wonder why I'm sitting at the beach under an umbrella with a double-sized towel wrapped around my long-sleeve shirt and sweatpants. It's a lie, but the truth is embarrassing. The truth is that when I look at my naked body i...

In seven hours I am leaving the country and returning on Tuesday to start a new chapter in my life. I'm sitting here right now looking around my home and making notes about the final tasks I need to complete before loading the car and heading to the airport. I have laundry to do, dishes to wash, and some items to write for a client, but I cannot stop the thoughts ramming against the inside of my head. Todo va a cambiar . Everything is going to change. He told me that recently, and I'm painfully aware right now just how true that is. For more than two years we've waited for this moment. We've weathered an international relationship through endless text conversations, a few video chats, and monthly visits interspersed with a few extended moments. We made it through the stressful visa process. We survived the interview. Can we survive living together? That thought alone has me fairly convinced I will not be sleeping tonight. Honestly, I cannot remember the last time ...

Several years ago I subscribed to a list that sent me a daily email reminding me of important historical events in the world of literature. On February 25, 2007, the feature was about the first meeting of poets Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes. I printed out the story of how she bit his lip so hard she drew blood and scribbled a note on the back: "If only we could all have this level of passion in our lives." Then I passed it on to my dear friend, Nadia , who laughed. I just remember wishing I could experience that level of intensity in my life...an uncontrollable urge...an irresistible craving. How often have I denied the level of depth so blatantly obvious in these eyes? Unfortunately, it's not possible to experience that type of passion when you restrain your emotions with the equivalent of a Victorian-era corset. For some reason completely known to me after years of therapy, I feel the need to present the facade of the cool girl at all times. She's my superhero ...

Uff...I'm really not one for resolutions, mostly because I hate the thought of restricting life changes to one day of the year. I like to believe we are constantly evolving and morphing into new creatures. Yet, it is now 2015, and I want to embrace the spirit of change. 2014 was a rough year for me. I discovered an amazing song by an Argentine singer that really summed up my life experience lately. Ojos de Papel...Eyes of Paper. Seriously, if you looked at me recently, you would see the lifelessness. Paper is a dead tree, and that's where I've been. It's also a springboard for new life, and that's where I want to go. There are no resolutions here...just some big plans. 1. Publishing a manuscript I wrote 7 years ago. 2. Publishing teaching materials. 3. Embracing meditation and mindfulness. 4. Starting a new blog. 5. Continuing the quest for a baby. 6. Moving on with life after a nearly 2 year slump. (Thanks a lot jackasses in Washington!) And some not so big plans.....

This week has been one of those ones that challenged my faith in humanity. It's no secret that in my perfect world we could all live our lives as we see fit as long as we don't interfere with the lives of others. Unfortunately, this requires a level of self-awareness and authenticity that few are able to achieve. It all started when I asked a co-worker about her divorce. Her response ended with, "Thanks for pretending to care." I pointed out that my concern was genuine. She was a bit embarrassed, and so was I, but this feeling stemmed from different places. I can't surmise hers, but mine was the fact that we live in a world where someone might just pretend to show concern. I often find myself in trouble because of my transparent emotions. It's no secret to those who know me that I say what I mean. I don't know any other way to exist. I love mysteries, and I'm a wickedly good detective, but I tire of sorting through veils of words and expressions and ac...

I fell in love with poetry for the very reason that most people despise it. It's filled with hidden meanings. When I was a teenager it gave me a place to explore the emotions and questions that seemed taboo in my conservative Christian home. That sentiment never left, and most of my poems even to this day are written about deeply personal experiences that I feel I can never share in the light of full disclosure. My Instagram feed has turned into another experience like my poetry. I've been posting lately a lot of relatively cryptic messages comprised of photos I take and lines from various pieces of literature (including my own). If you knew the stories behind them you might cringe or hold a grudge or judge me, but that's okay. A lot of life is happening right now. I'm taking some huge risks. I'm making mistakes. I'm searching for answers. I spent the day at the beach this weekend with a friend. We let the strong current carry us far from our camping spot, ...

I posted this Sunday night on Instagram. This combination of a line from one of my favorite books and a photo I took while driving home one evening perfectly captured a realization I had that day. I am Daisy Buchanan. Most people who read "The Great Gatsby" develop a strong distaste for the main female character. She's vapid. She stays with a man who abuses her. She cheats on her husband. She neglects her daughter. She plays the men in her life against each other. She kills a woman. She lets the love of her life take the fall. The movie versions of the book turn her into a ditz. I once held these negative views about this fictional woman. They have evolved over time as the path of my life has taken me far from the one I initially envisioned for myself. I started to empathize with her and see her humanity, and most recently I saw her as a woman trapped by the expectations of everyone else. It doesn't change the morality of her actions, but it does make her more r...

So many of my Facebook friends participated in the "gratitude" challenge. No one tagged me in it, and I was glad for several reasons that aren't relevant to this post. Despite my reluctance to jump in, I thoroughly enjoyed reading what everyone wrote and forced myself to privately count my own blessings each day. As you all know, some days are easier than others. I went back to work this week, grateful for the opportunity to have a regular paycheck again. However, I was under the impression that I would get paid Friday. I planned all my summer money around being paid Friday. Friday came and went, and my bank account remained exactly the same. So now I'm scrambling, frantically trying to finish some freelance work and making deals with relatives to borrow just enough to cover the bills that I must absolutely pay before I get my next check. Fortunately, I'm resourceful, and my God watches over me. I have half a tank of gas, a $25 gift card, and food in my...

Yesterday I watched a woman sitting in front of the bank across the street. She caught my eye because she was rubbing her legs furiously, wincing as her fingers moved up and down her shins. When she dipped a plate in water and poured it over her legs I thought perhaps she was washing her body, but when she started talking to people who were not there, I knew the truth. She was mentally ill. I sat on the floor of the balcony and hid behind a chair as best I could, but it wasn't because I was afraid she would see me. My presence would not interrupt the party she was having with her imaginary companions. She was perfectly content pouring water over her legs, picking leaves off the hedges, and handing both to the figments of her imagination. I was just awed…and a little jealous of her ability to be completely ambivalent to others. You see, I spend a lot of time worrying about what other people think. I have an idea of the person I want to be and how I want others to see me. So...

For a few months now I've been following on Instagram a woman who left her country to live in the U.S. Each time my feed opens with her name my heart leaps a little as I prepare for the next rise or fall on the roller coaster that is her life. Her recent posts include delightful quotes about men who lie or turn out to be less than she expected, and I find them interesting to read. And I cringe. Dating is tough. I still remember the days of wondering if he liked me as much as I liked him and doing whatever I could to gently let down the ones who liked me more than I liked them. No one really enjoys hurting someone's feelings, but that's all part of the game. When I see these types of posts on my feed, I want to grab this woman and hold her and tell her to follow her path. What I don't understand, though, is the pressure we place on ourselves and other people as we go through this process. We scrutinize every detail of every conversation and text and facial exp...

Sigh. Today was my last day at work for this school year. This was a rough end of the year, and I came home Tuesday completely exhausted, frustrated, and overwhelmed. I did what any reasonable person would do and ate an entire deep dish pizza (except for the two pieces Winnipeg managed to steal) and half of a carton of peanut butter ice cream. It reminded me of this poem I wrote several years ago. In my food induced coma, I decided I needed something more. Running was out of the question because my stomach was too full for that level of rocking and rolling. I needed to do something productive. I needed to finish a quick, simple project that would let me feel like I accomplished something. I opted, instead, to try out my new power tool. A chain saw. A real life chain saw. I've never used a chain saw before, but I think I am addicted to the rumble of the motor. Forcing myself to control a favorite murder weapon in horror flicks felt amazing. It purred. It hummed. It shook the ...

I've been forced lately to learn a lesson in control...or lack thereof. This has been especially difficult for someone like me who started doing her own laundry in first grade. I have my own brand of delusion in which I think I have the power to change minds, influence moods, and keep the Earth spinning on its axis. So...maybe I don't have as much control as I think I do. Or should. For the last few months, I've thrown myself into a tailspin of exhaustive Internet searches and photo analysis. I've uncovered some truths and unearthed a few lies. There's power in knowledge, but with that power comes the realization that the world isn't as perfect as it seems. After spending nine years with a man who was in love with another woman and losing a fiance to his former girlfriend, I'm a little gun-shy about other women. The thought of dealing with that again terrifies me some days, so I go on the offensive to prevent it. All my energy goes into working out, ...

Never-a-dull-moment Nadia and I were talking the other day about a conversation she had with a friend. They were talking with a man about problems he was having with his girlfriend, and Nadia's advice was something to the effect that you can't change crazy. Her friend, who has been married for 9 years to a man who adores her, chastised her for the comment and said that love conquers all. Sigh. When I was dating, I had a never-ending stream of advice from people. My favorites were those from people who married very early in life and those who were married for decades. I'm not knocking the wisdom of people who have figured out how to maintain a relationship for such a long period of time, but it's really difficult to comment on dating if you've never really dated. Nadia and I talked about this, and I thought I'd share my favorite dating myths and bust them at the same time. 1. Love conquers all. This is such a beautiful sentiment that I wish it was t...

This morning, I started writing an end of the year post, but everything was so negative that I couldn't bring myself to do it. It's been a long time since I have felt this way, and in all honesty, I really didn't like it. I don't like being negative because it's such a wasted emotion. Yet, I guess it's where I am in life. 2013 was a difficult year for me, and when I tried to look back at it, each experience was wrapped in the white noise that has occupied my brain for most it. Even the highlights of the year: getting married and international travel and living were awash in the work and stress and exhaustion that overwhelmed me. Seriously, I made some big mistakes and failed to pay attention to the lessons life was trying to teach. This certainly is not where I expected to be at this point in my life, but that's true for all of all. But...it's 2014 now. Perhaps I'll poke my head through these clouds of exhaustion and white noise and do what I k...

A long-time friend of mine recently went to Peru to hike the Inca Trail. I so enjoyed following the adventures, reminiscing about my own there, and sharing with him some tidbits I learned along the way. He recently posted all his pictures on Facebook, so I decided to go through mine. Peru. Spain. Dominican Republic. Four years. Three continents. As I looked at the photos and read the running commentary of my vacation adventures, I realized just how much I like to share the mundane with everyone. Seriously, thank you so much for indulging me and thank you even more for sharing the little moments of your life that could be the focus of a Seinfeld episode. It made seem like nothing more than a cup of coffee, a new pair of shoes, or cute things your kids say, but the honesty of the mundane is refreshing and ties us together deeper than any of us realize. For now, I need to fold some laundry and scribble out some lines of poetry in my head. I hope to have something to share with you lat...