notes on an adventure

march 11, 2015

oooo, this is tough.  all of my humans are hours away, miles away.  a state away.

my heart ached for everyone.  just to be close to them.

hurt, pain, tears, lonliness

change your perspective.

a stupid movie.  (well, not stupid).  gross pointe blank.  high school reuinion.  how many times had i felt silly for never leaving san diego?  

and now? i live in arizona.  i work in arizona.  i live alone, i moved to a different state, independently.  all alone.  by myself. 

like a fucking grown up.

march 30, 2015

still tough.  working on blocking the negative thoughts.  stopping them before they fully bloom.  here's a milestone for you, i didn't cry last week.

a woman, a blogger, a quilter, a creative is on a similar journey.  i love her sense of adventure.  she planned this for months, this cross country move.  she finds inspiration in the desert, it nourishes her soul.

there is so much beauty here.  so many trees, so many blossoms.  the air smells so crisp and fresh. i'm constantly surprised.

i'm working on my perspective.  this was definitely the right move for me.  

i went back through my email drafts and skimmed through one that mentioned how flat phoenix is and how horribly i missed san diego.  i think since visiting san diego after moving here gave me more perspective.  don't tell anyone, but i think it smells better here.  maybe it's less smog?  i romanticized it.  it's still the same, and it's only a quick flight away.

i spoke to both of my aunts last week.  my touchstones.

i almost finished a quilt top this weekend.

looking forward to easter with family.

thinking about writing all of this down, but like when i was going through it, i didn't want to write it.  i didn't want to focus on my fears and insecurities.  i always think, while in the middle of a life challenge "i should write about this, i should write this all down." but  my focus is always the other side of it.  and if i stay in the middle of the experience, it will be harder to keep going, to keep putting one foot in front of the other.  

if that makes any sense.  it makes sense to me, so i'll keep it.

i'm so far out of my comfort zone.  as cheesey as it is, this move would have been much harder without the umbilical cord of facebook.  

i hate flying, i get air sick, and i'm terrified of public speaking.  hey, let's accept a job that does all three!  almost daily!

adventure.  outside my comfort zone.  challenge and growth, most definitely.

may 4, 2015

i don't know why i didn't write anything in april.  i really need to work on that.  

traveling is tough.  it's good in that it makes me busy.  it's a different setting, so i don't have associated feelings, etc.  but getting on the plane to head "home" makes me miss home even more.  other travelers ask if i'm from phoenix, if that's home.  i say i'm originally from socal, and they inevitability every single time without fail, ask me "what are you doing in phoenix?!"

and just like that, poof, punch to the gut and i have to work myself up again.

soon it will be four months since i've left home.  how dramatic!  i feel like i'm scratching notches on the walls counting the days that i've been here.  

all of a sudden i'm in sort of a panic.  panic might be too strong of a word.  two months, three months, they sound like small potatotes.  four months?  that seems like i should have doen more in that time.  like it's permanent.  i need to save money instead of using retail (target) therapy to (temporarily) soothe my soul.  i need to enroll in school, to make my time here worthwhile.  so i can go back home with tools, with experience, with knowledge gained through fire!  ha. that was dramatic.  

i want to reach out to her, the friend i pushed away, because she might be going through something similar.  but then i'm reminded of all the time that we've spent apart, how much i've changed.  grown.  she was my crutch, my security blanket.  i went to her for everything.  all of my crazy thoughts, ruminations, i knew she would understand.  we both understood, maybe too much.  

texts flying back and forth, furiously, almost manic.

now, without that person to genuinely understand what it's like in my head, i'm forced to deal with them myself.  i've been forced to recognize when i'm ruminating or spiraling, and snap myself out of it instead of wallowing in it.  i don't have the luxury of wallowing anymore.  my inner voice is the bitch i need to snap me out of it, to focus on something else.  

seriously, she's a new voice i've never heard before.  she shocks me, not just telling me to shut up, but reminding me, getting me back on track.  "so you fucked up.  fix it and move forward!"

snap.

i'm going to try and write more here, to document this adventure.  so many life lessons here, it would be a shame to ignore them, to also take advantage of those lessons, of this time here.