This entry finds me at a curious time in life. It insists upon being written if only for there to be room made for more “je ne sais quoi.” It’s been awhile since I have written anything that I have cared to share with others and I’m not sure if this will be another one of the many Microsoft word documents that will stay in my “Writings” folder and not be opened until I have a bittersweet day and feel the need to reflect. But here it goes…
How life has changed in the last year. Its funny how quick and sudden things develop. You make plans for one situation and another presents itself and you are suddenly faced with a set of certain circumstances that you feel pressing down on your shoulders like a bowlder with absolutely no remorse. Out of fear of making the wrong decision you act fast. Sometimes you make the right one. Sometimes you move forward and try to mend the wrong ones. But sometimes you find yourself stuck in a sort of limbo with the curiosity and the question of “What if?” I find myself playing certain days or situations over and over in my head and think of how things would have or could have been different. This is often pointless day dreaming because we cannot go back and change what has already been done. But even knowing that I catch myself doing this. I remind myself that I am in fact an adult and need to act as one.
These don’t always have to be negative transactions with inner thoughts of course. There are some times when you realize that you made the right choice and you couldn’t be happier with your decision. It’s the sort of sensation you get when you know you folded a somewhat bad hand in poker. A hand that you were not 100% confident in and so you tossed the cards away with slight hesitation. Give it a minute and watch the game play out and you realize it was a smart fold. These realizations find their way into your thoughts as well. The thoughts that remind you to be grateful and confident in yourself.
And now I find myself at the age of 25. I stop and realize that this is not a day dream. That I really have turned into an adult. They say 18 presents you with all the luxuries of being “grown up” but for some reason in my mind 25 has always represented that year of change and maturity. This opinion could all have been formed on the basis of some Hollywood flick but nonetheless it’s my official adult age. I think we all have one in our mind. I’d be curious to see how much they differ from one another. I keep thinking back on the last 7 years and I can’t believe how much has changed. The year of “the world is your oyster.” I can honestly say the world seemed a little less frightening at the age of 18. Maybe I was naive or even foolish but there was a somewhat glow to everything and all the possibility. I would take a leap of faith on just about everything and everyone. I was certain that there was good in every situation. Now I’m older and have a much more sinister mentality. I hate to admit the errors that I find in myself but only in writing can I acknowledge these things. That’s why I so admire watching children. They do everything they feel. They react to everything that moves them. They don’t stop and think of the consequences or how they might disappoint others. They just simply … are. I find it relaxing to watch something alive live so freely and without thought or motive. So much of the time I feel like we say or think or react in certain ways to progress ourselves in a situation or to make someone happy. When it isn’t our natural reaction at all. It could be the furthest thing from it in fact. When did we start focusing so much on other people and their happiness before our own? Don’t they say we ourselves need to be happy before we can make anyone else happy. Maybe we all need to stay young at heart in certain aspects of our life. Is this just a fool’s paradise?
Change. Sometimes we welcome it with open arms and sometimes we fight it with just about everything we got. Why does change have to be so scary sometimes? Maybe because we don’t know what is waiting for us on the other side. Maybe because we are stubborn and set in our ways. Or maybe even because we are content with being where we currently are in life and don’t feel like we need much more.
So I sit in my tiny but ample cubicle and attempt to write the first “Annie Logging” of the New Year. I am determined to write more this year for I believe it will do a world of difference for my well being in 2010. I can’t say that 2009 was a bad year but I also can’t say that it came and went without much difficulty. The tail end of the year and its bad and ever continuous vibes seem to be mocking me every day thus far. Some days I am able to put them behind me and meet the tasks that are waiting to be filled. But some days it seems harder to have that mind set. I have to remind myself throughout the day that it is all in the past and to move forward. I also think it’s important to acknowledge that everyone deals with moving on in their own way and at a different pace. I know that outside parties might look at my problems and think “Why, How, What, Where, When?” This is not to say that they don’t care or have concern. But I feel as if I’ve been pushed into a certain direction when I’m not completely ready. I’m the kind of person who enjoys time alone. Who can sit in my room for hours writing and listening to music. I often look forward to coming home after work, making dinner, taking the Puppy for a walk and doing crossword puzzles until I fall asleep. I enjoy the quiet and simple pleasures that seem to put me at ease. I like to think and work things out in my head.
I can honestly say that I am the most ungirly girl I know. And I think most of those who know me would have to agree with that statement. This has been true for the whole of my life. When I was a little girl the neighborhood boys AKA best friends would come knocking on my door asking my parents “Can Annie come out and wrestle?” Before my Mom or Dad could even respond I would be out of the door throwing my friends across the lawn. Some of this could be because I grew up with two older brothers who thought I was their rag doll of a sister. But I can take a lot of blame for this somewhat of an issue I have come upon.
Reason I have come to this understanding
-I don’t enjoy manicure or pedicures.
-I HATE shopping.
-I think “Pretty Women” is an awful movie about a whore.
-I don’t enjoy romantic comedies.
-I think it’s more fun to go to a dive bar than a hot lounge or club.
-Darts or pool is my ideal night.
-I only get my hair cut when forced to by my Mother. And yes I’m almost 25.
-I think it’s funny to buy condoms out of vending machines at old truck stops. Preferably flavored.
-I bite my nails.
-You almost have to drug me in order to get me to try on clothing before I purchase it.
-Even when I know I can’t handle it I’ll take a shot of whiskey to try and keep up with the boys.
-When I sit my legs are usually crossed or I sit on my feet.
-I like to sleep in boxers.
-I enjoy the company of animals more than people.
-Some of my favorite movies include Godfather, Casino, Apocalypse Now, Goodfellas & Die Hard.
-I love watching football and drinking beer.
-I love playing cards and usually winning.
-Star Wars is amazing.
-I think sitting around with a bunch of guys talking is very entertaining.
-I think it’s important to be strong willed in any and all situations.
-It’s important for a man or woman to be able to digest spicy food.
-Menudo is the one and only remedy for hang overs.
-A Sunday afternoon at the gun range is perfect.
-Liquor at anytime of the day works for me. No judgment.
-I don’t have any regard for calories or carbs.
-I wear mismatched socks almost every day that I wear socks.
-I enjoy spending time at a bar watching sports.
I guess I feel the need to write about it because as I get older I notice it more and more. In fact as I get older I notice more and more about myself in general.
A thought that came to me tonight when I was in the shower was how I lived a year in Madison, Indiana. Even though it felt like a lifetime I don’t believe people understand or know what I’m talking about when I mention the farm or the smell of the country or why I love to fish so much. They just think that I have made a trip or two there and have made it seem familiar enough to talk about. This chapter of my life goes something like this …
It was the summer before my 6th grade school year. I was finally about to be the oldest in my school and for some reason that always meant something to me. This could be because I was the youngest of three kids and also the only girl. I finally had a chance to feel in charge even though I never thought of myself as a bully. But the fact that I COULD be was exciting enough. To say the least I was not thrilled to be pulled out of school and throw into a crowd of brand new faces in an unknown territory. This was also the first time that my brothers and I would all be in separate schools. I usually had Eli a classroom or two away from me but not this time. Ill never forget the first day of school when I walked in with a floral print skirt and tank top on with jellie sandals and sat down in the bleachers for roll call. The first interaction I had with my soon to be peers was a girl my age walking up to me and asked “Um why are you so dark?” I looked up and noticed everyone in our grade sitting around me starring waiting for some kind of alien like response. However all I could come up with was “I’m half Mexican and from California,” and shamefully let my head fall into my lap. And you could hear the whispers spread like the wave through the crowd of judgmental kids. I can’t tell you that I wouldn’t have fallen in with the crowd had the tables been turned because I’m uncertain. But I only know how much I hurt at that moment. I was able to pull it together and even make friends. Although it seemed like all my friends were boys. Even my teacher and our class pet named Davis. I think the guys liked being my friend because Id wrestle with them and swim in the streams with them at cliffty falls state park. While the other girls were learning to put on make up and stuff their bra. I like how I was and looking back I still like how I was.
When we first moved to Indiana we lived on a 400 acre farm in the country with my grandparents. This had been an occasional place to visit in my past and it was not completely unknown or disliked. The smell of biscuits and gravy was something that I had grown to love. And the walks in the woods would only make your nose ignore any other scent that ever presented itself or at least you would hope for this. The insects were something that I would never grow fond of. From the moment we stepped out of our warn down minivan I was “ate up” by bugs. Bugs by names I don’t believe anyone outside of Indiana would call them. There were all sorts of interesting creatures in the hearty woods of Indiana. At least to someone coming from the suburbs outside of L.A.
How do I explain the farm to someone who has never stood in front of it and seen the sun fall behind its heavy frame? It was and always will be something to be seen. The skinny walk way that leads to the front door and if you wandered off you would find apple orchards to your left and the dog pin and shed to your right. Had you decided to turn around you would see the cement barn filled with fishing poles and old cars that smelled like oil and rusted out metal. And if you were to make a complete circle you would see nothing but land that was owned and loved by my family for so many years. It was something beautiful. It always held a magical atmosphere to me since I could run off by myself for hours. Fishing with my dogs or picking wild flowers or even just sitting in the barn with all the tractors and writing in my journal. I can’t help but mention the smells once again. I’m always looking for that rich green and moist smell of moss and hay and burning wood. It reminds me of "katy dids" hanging on the window frames and rolling around in fresh cut grass. I miss being that age.
With the land also presented somewhat of a problem for the animal lover inside me. With a lot of land comes a lot of “game” and a lot of volunteers to hunt off that game. Nobody ever wants to see Bambi types hanging in the barn with blood draining from their nose. Nor do you enjoy knowing that your dogs run off and eat Bambi’s guts. It was never a pretty sight my friends. But it was always a grand view when you would drive or walk across a field and see 20 deer grazing. I must say that some of my favorite moments were when I would go fishing. Ever since I was a little girl fishing has been one of my favorite things to do. I’m not sure if it’s because my Dad would take me when he was home. Or if there is just something about the silence and lack of focus that keeps me enthralled. It was peaceful. The only time I’d come up for air was when I ran out of hot dogs and needed more bait.
So it’s official…I have moved out of BURBANK and I’m now living in Sherman Oaks or what some might refer to as “The Valley.” I’m not too keen on this idea but I have come to terms with what is only a collection of words that seem to identify a place rather than the quality of living there. That being said my arms are open and inviting this new location in with high hopes. However moving is never fun. Even though it has only been a week I already see myself missing or knowing I will miss certain parts of living in Burbank. Here are a few that come to mind in no particular order…
-I miss hearing the kids play at the elementary school in the morning.
-I will miss the smell of my neighbors cigar lit while he watered the grass like clockwork every day as I was coming home from work.
-I will miss the little old man that I would see so often walking down the street by himself in a walker and would take a break every couple houses. And as you would drive by him he would stare at you like you were some sort of alien.
-Board game nights that could be thrown together in a matter of moments.
-The bum that lived on the corner of our street that would move his belonging all day long to find them in the same spot at the end of the day. I was always curious with that one.
-The way the dryer made the house smell.
-Taking a shower and having Casey bang on the door “I need to go pee. Can I come in?”
-Having open and deep conversations with Casey whilst peeing with the door open.
-Being able to run across the street and run laps, get in sprinkler fights at 2AM or just take a stroll with a friend. But mostly to be able to walk by the fire house…
-Sadly and even a little scary…hearing the squirrels run across our roof in the morning.
-Knowing that any time of day or night I could go into my roomie/bestfriend’s room and talk if I needed to.
-The short commute to work.
-I will miss being able to run home in 5 minutes if I needed to.
