2012

Thank you, 2012, for the life lessons and changes you've provided.

I,
-Learned to establish some boundaries.
-Started to learn how to say no.
-Found that some battles are not worth fighting and how to differentiate the ones that are.
-Left a terrible relationship.
-Didn't go back.
-Made fantastic new friends.
-Got to spend time with the fantastic friends I already had.
-Learned the difference between alone and lonely.
-Started asking for (and listening to) advice when I needed it.
-Learned to put my time and energy towards the people and things that make my life better and build me up.
-Learned to ask for help.
-Learned gratitude.
-Stopped being so hard on myself.
-Stopped being so hard on everyone else.
-Started celebrating my important moments.
-Lost 20 pounds.
-Learned that the people who love me based on what I do for them don't actually love me at all.
-Learned to trust that true friends are willing to compromise.
-Remembered how to laugh.
-Started making deliberate choices to change my life, realizing that even if it's the wrong choice, at least it's mine.
-Re-discovered hope.
-Am happier and stronger than I was just one short year ago- and have so much love and gratitude for the list of people that helped me get here.
-Am confident that my life will only get better.


5. I love this new optimism.

What's the worst that can happen?

Every time someone says to me, what do you think? Should I risk it? I say, "Do it!" "What's the worst that can happen?" "Live a little!"

It's great advice, just not any I've ever taken for myself.

I've always been the one who holds the bags, sits in the back, checks surreptitiously for seatbelts.

At the amusement park, I am not amused. Sure, you might talk me into going on that big roller coaster but those pictures don't lie! I'm the one who looks terrified, eyes sealed shut, white knuckled and clinging to the safety harness next to the girl woohooing all the way down.

But lately? That's changing for me. I find myself not clinging to my neighbor (stranger or not) during takeoff and landing. I'm more likely to have my face pressed to the window.

And at the water park this Christmas? I wanted to go on every ride, especially the ones that scared me. And I did-- All the ones that make you go head first and the ones that swirl you around and the ones that spit you out with so much force that you inadvertently flash the lifeguards. And I screamed and screamed until I laughed and laughed.

I loved every minute of it. There was a rush and an excitement that I've never experienced before (it's usually just terror). And I felt free.

4. I love this change in me.

Can you bring me a six pack of beer and a roll of Charmin?

“Diana, what you need is a bodega that delivers” says my dear friend as I’m complaining of having to go out in the rain for toilet paper, “I never leave the house!”

As I’m searching for the nearest bodega that delivers, I wonder, has city life spoiled me?  I can have food delivered at all hours with just a phone call, or if I don’t feel like chatting? A few clicks on a phone app.  I can pay someone else to do my laundry, cleaning, food shopping, cat box cleaning.  I’ll bet if I look hard enough, I can find someone to write thoughtful and endearing Christmas cards to all my friends and family (And if not, that should be my next business venture!)

I love this city and every convenience it brings, but have I taken it too far?  Is it a too much to expect that someone else should be doing all the things that life requires that happen to be just a little annoying?  Do I miss out on too much as I’m munching on delivery from my favorite Indian restaurant and catching up on my TV shows on DVR?

Maybe I do.  Maybe I’ve lost out on the soulmate I would have met on line at the grocery store. 

Crap!

Then again, isn’t it more likely that my soulmate is currently compiling his orders on Seamless web and planning his next vacation?

And with that thought, I know exactly what to do.

“La Cabana, what can I get you?”

“Hi, yes! Can you bring me a six pack of beer, a roll of Charmin and the phone numbers of everyone else that has placed this exact same order?”

Done.

3.  Not a doubt in my mind: I love delivery.

Hurricane Aftermath

My heart bleeds for the victims of Hurricane Sandy.  I see the devastation of their homes on television, I talk to the friends who have no power, no water and wonder how they can be so cheerful.

I walk through the city streets where the line between the haves and have nots seems every clearer, marked as it is by light, or the lack of it. 

The loss of light has turned familiar streets into foreign territory and benign neighbors into menacing shadows. I want my city back. Hope the lights come back to you all soon.

Hurricane Sandy, Day 1

I’m working from home today.  Not the kind of work-from-home that includes pizza and beers with all the friends that are also “working from home”.  Nope.  The kind of work from home where you are logged in for 14 hours because everyone else you work with cannot. 

Not to sound callous, but in the midst of all this?  I’ve started to hope for lost power too.

It comes first as a grumble…

“Ugh, this sucks.”  

An hour passes and I start to get testy...

“Are those my co-workers frolicking on facebook??  Can’t connect on your laptop, huh?  Sure…”

Two hours pass and I start to daydream...

“If I just lost internet, I wouldn’t be able to log in and I could enjoy the rest of my day…”

Four hours pass and I start to get a little desperate...

“If I lost power, my boss would have to stop calling me!  Plus, I have enough scented candles to keep me lit for days and smelling like I’ve had a shower!  Can I fake it?”

Six hours pass and I start to negotiate with God…

“Maybe mom is right!  If I find Jesus, maybe he’ll make the power go out! Um, Jesus?”

10 seconds pass and…

 The TV shuts off.

I slowly turn towards the living room, “Jesus?”

2 seconds pass…

I look around in confusion.  No TV, but the lights are on!  What the heck is going on?

3 seconds pass.

I spot the cat sitting on the remote.

1 second passes.

“Godammit!”

Back to work.

2. At the end of this very long day, I know to be true:  My cat is entirely too fat if he can shut off the TV with just his hiney.

I know this to be true

I vividly remember the first time I saw the movie Runaway Bride.  The movie was forgettable, but the character of Maggie Carpenter, for me at least, was not...  because I related.  I was neither a bride, nor inclined to run (anywhere, to be honest, never mind away).  What struck me was that I didn’t have a clear picture of who I was, what I wanted or even what I liked.  In fact, just like Maggie, chances were good I would order my eggs to match someone else’s preferences.

Thirteen years later, that statement is still true.  I’ve made a lifelong habit of highlighting the parts of myself that work best for whoever I’m around.  I can be enthusiastic about almost anything! While that’s brought me experiences that I would not have had otherwise, and built relationships that I wouldn’t trade for the world, it’s also left me with the horrible fear that, left to my own devices, I wouldn’t have done anything at all.

In fact, the one thing I’m sure of is that there is a resounding choir of crickets when I ask myself what it is that I want, or where I want to go from here. 

So, this is the journey I wish to embrace.  I want to make my choices my own.  I want to identify and follow my own dreams.  I want to forge my own path.  So that at the end of the day, I'll have the right to say that my life was of my own choosing.

But first, I’ll need to figure out how to do that.

And, since I have to start somewhere, I'll start by figuring out what it is I like – experiment when I don’t know – learn to cultivate fearlessness – and have this be my chronicle.

1.  I know this to be true: I like my eggs with bacon and cheese, on a roll.