Remember how I get super annoyed at people who post things on Facebook about how happiness is a choice, or you only get back the energy you put into the world, or good things happen to good people? I know you know. My skin crawls and I want to physically scream every time I see it. I am a total contradiction to all of that. Or, sadly, my friends think I am a selfish asshole who only has negative thoughts, does only bad things and chooses depression in the morning over happiness. Because really, that is what you are saying to me. That means you either don’t know me at all or need to spend time in med school studying the brain.

Anyway, you shouldn’t be putting good things into the world in hopes of what may eventually happen for you. If you are a lucky person whose scales tip the happiness balance heavier than it does for the rest of us, just feel blessed. No need to pontificate to the rest of us what you believe you are doing to control that and how the rest of us are falling short. You actually have very little control and have been luckier thus far than others. You actually don’t know if it’s me or you who would fall short if the tables were reversed. I know….that frightens you. It means you have no guarantees your outlook could change, your luck could change or that you can’t ever protect yourself from becoming me. Your Deepak Chopra memes are actually driven by fear and judgement. And there’s a good chance you know you don’t have the grit to barrel through what I do with the strength and tenacity I do.

I do a lot of good things for people on almost a daily basis. I put a lot of positive things into the universe. I do not get anywhere near even a hundredth of a portion of that back. I’m also ok with that. I want a happy life simply because so many people have them (in general – no one is happy all the time.) It is a fair expectation to have without worrying about what happy sweat equity I am generating towards the universe to earn my reward.

I had to pull off something pretty huge today which involved other people cooperating with me to look after the person I needed to look after. I get satisfaction in two things. 1) I am able to help someone in desperate need and 2) that I am involved with people of such high caliber they got on board to help me. Because of them, I was even able to over deliver. I feel good about all of it because it was the right thing to do. I expect nothing in return which is good because, if history is a good predictor, nothing good is coming my way.

My blessing is that I have the ability and access to help a lot of people when they fall on tough times. It’s a privilege to be the person people can come to and count on. Most people find it a burden to think someone may be hoping you’ll come around. They are the ones who post suicide hotline numbers once a year but don’t ever actually reach out to their friends who they know are diagnosed with depression. I think that’s actually the most negative energy being put into the world. “Postcard” people….”I’m thinking of you but not really, just using this card to buy another year of ignoring you when you actually need me.” I just think when you are a person who actually can and will help people, that’s kind of the greatest gift on earth. No one should ever be too busy for that. You’re missing out on so much when you don’t make space to be that for someone.

Knowing I was able to create a situation which will offer this person the ability to take a deep breath, relax her shoulders and stop feeling bad about herself is just a really wonderful feeling. Why? Because I am empath. When she cries, I feel that. When she has trouble breathing, I feel that too. I basically know what eases me and try to find what eases others. That’s about as selfish as I get. We are both able to take a deep breath at the same time and realize we have options. We have hope. That’s all I care about. I know what it feels like to feel trapped and hopeless and, most of the time, I have nobody to talk to about that. If I can be that person for someone else and find a solution when you need my help, that’s my only mission. I think there is no purer and positive a heart that says “I know your pain, I have it and nobody helps me with mine but I am going to help you with yours so you never have to know what it feels like to be me.” It’s just the right thing to do. Perhaps I am the holder of the best knowledge after all.

“Women demand….”

Is the beginning of a sign I saw today but couldn’t catch the rest of it. I know the intention was a good one and related to something financial. But I didn’t really need to see the rest because I just found “women demand” to actually be really offensive. I see it a lot. Women demand equal pay. Women demand equal playing fields in work, education, etc. Women demand to be taken seriously. Women demand to have the same rights as men. Women demand the constitution be amended with ERA for women.

When you see the word “demand” you automatically sense a negative connotation. I demand you clean your room. I demand you put that phone down at the dinner table. I demand you come home at curfew. When it’s in the context of women, why is demand the word of choice? It feels similar to labeling us shrill, bossy, rough around the edges, pushy, overstepping our bounds. Me and a man could separately approach a boss asking for a raise. He’d be considered confident. I’d be considered abrasive. Demand is just a really poor word choice considering all the similar words used to describe women when we are actually forced to request something we shouldn’t have to ask for.

That’s an even bigger point. Why are we proud to point out women are finally demanding what we deserve? That’s deplorable. We shouldn’t even have to politely ask or subtly point out. Discrepancies should just be getting actively addressed and fixed without anyone having to demand it. Those are just basic morals but money makes “the man” greedy and he is going to hang onto it until his last breath if he can….therefore, forcing us to demand equality. It’s offensive to be in a place of having to demand anything in this day and age. It’s offensive that it was first introduced to be added to the constitution in the 1970s and still hasn’t been. It’s offensive to have to ask and even worse to have it referred to as a demand. I think for the most part, we are on,y just getting the courage to politely point it out.

If I were a man, I’d be offended that something must be demanded of me in order for me to finally do it. Doesn’t that deflate the masculinity a bit? Isn’t that your marriage complaint? We nag you? Haven’t you figured out yet that you should take the trash out without having to be asked or demanded? It’s the same when it’s money. For every dollar you give yourself, you should want to be sure it’s happening for everyone else. Isn’t that a prouder place to be? Don’t you feel insulted if someone has to demand something from you? What does that say about your moral code if you can’t see it and fix it on your own? Why don’t you “suggest” and then we don’t have to “demand?” How about that for a fucking change?

I just went out for a quick errand…basically needed more double stuffed EL Fudge and caffeine free Diet Coke. Would you believe Market Basket only had regular and not double stuffed? Wasted trip and I hate going there as it is. But I lucked out on the way back and caught an NPR program doing a piece on Georgia O’Keefe.

I never actually got into her artwork. But I have always found her interesting as a person and I completely understand the magic of New Mexico which can overcome you. It’s coincidentally always this time of year I miss it most. Christmas time out there leaves an impression despite there not typically being snow, you do feel the spirit of something when there. Perhaps it’s the red chili wreaths or luminaria lighting pathways to churches. Maybe it’s the spirit of the dead wafting through cooler air. There’s just something which makes your senses a little more aware.

When I speak of the beauty of NM, I am mostly skipping over Albuquerque where I lived for awhile (although Old Town gives you the feels.) It’s an interesting city but it really just serves as a springboard to other locations in the area. Do you have asthma? I do. It’s not bad, more of a nuisance but do you know the moment after you use your inhaler or you nebulize and your breathing starts to clear? That’s what it feels like to enter NM. It’s a clearer breath which flows through you. Maybe it’s the space, the never ending sky and horizon….it feels like weight lifts off your chest and you can take a huge deep breath and stretch your arms out, over your head or even twirl around and not hit anything. Giant, airy space….breathing room.

I can remember that feeling when I drove over the border. I can remember it every time I walked out of the airport. It was always a spiritual and grounded feeling. Surprising, considering the ocean is more my home than anything and there is no ocean there. In fact, not much water at all. I used to laugh when I’d see boats hooked up to trucks on the highway wondering where they were going…probably Havasu, Arizona or Lake Powell, Utah. Even without water, the desert feels like another home to me. It’s a different energy. I think the spirits of the dead, the Native American are all around you. All their beliefs, respect for nature filter through you as you breath.

It makes so much sense that an artist like O’Keefe found herself there. The piece I listened to today talked about the period when she started painting bones….basically skulls and bones she found on her desert walks. Her critics thought she had become obsessed with death but that wasn’t it at all. She always pointed out that the bones she collected were once living. She would place remnants on her windowsills to maintain that feeling and art. I actually get it. If you come in my house, you see skull references in many places. I can’t tell you exactly what makes them speak to me but I can tell you it has nothing to do with morbidity. It just comes from feelings I try to recapture from my time out west.

I love my beaches but I would argue the Southwest can be far more beautiful than any beach I visit. It’s a very different beauty. With the beach, I feel total relaxation and some trepidation towards water. I love basking in the sun for as long as it’s out. I enjoy a quick dip in the water so I can dry off napping in the sun. It feels a little like savasana (sp?) but better if there isn’t a snoring man around which there ALWAYS is at yoga which I deeply, deeply resent. It’s hard to get the full effects of yoga because I get angry at the snorer every time. Anyway, that’s the beach. I pretty much just sit and stare and meditate at the beach.

In the desert, I want to explore, to search, to feel. There is a spirituality I experience there understanding how much came before me. You actually do see reservations out there, a reminder of the existence of Native Americans and the traditions they keep alive despite what we have done to them. The poverty, the abusive family structure many now experience, the addictions and all too often interrupted lives. It’s a place where you can experience awe and shame in the same minute. You can feel hundreds of years blow right through you depending on the expanse you are looking at. I do pay close attention to Native American beliefs….seek out their writers. I think it’s shameful what we stole from them. I revere them for fighting back.

There’s also the Mexican influence and Day of the Dead belief I very much buy into. I think it’s beautiful to celebrate your dead, to believe they can come back and visit you….to make it a positive. Death is sad and something I fear and ponder the older I get. What if you get one day a year where you can come back and visit upon your loved ones in celebration? What a wonderful, optimistic, colorful belief.

I once visited the Georgia O’Keefe museum in Santa Fe. Again, her art didn’t do much for me. Not a big fan of artistic vaginas which is pretty much what all her florals were representing. But her personal artifacts, her life….that was compelling. I know what it’s like to desperately love a man who won’t let you got entirely but will cheat on you constantly. He’s ok with you being away but he’s not ok with you ever totally moving on from him.

I had a pretty spiritual experience in that museum I have never told anyone about. I can’t remember if I even mentioned it to my friend who was there with me. There were old letters on display she had written back and forth with other artist friends. One of those friends was a photographer no one knew except for my ex who I had partially used this move to get away from. It was an obscure artist who shared the same last name as my ex and was very hard to find evidence of. I was able to track down one book and gave it to my ex as a gift but still don’t ever run into anything from this artist/photographer. To find myself in a museum 2300 miles away reading a letter exchange between him and O’Keefe stopped me cold. It was almost frightening to experience such a random connection …to literally experience one of those life circles spinning right around you connecting you to someone in another time zone living another life a couple thousand miles away who you would never intend to see or speak to again. I can’t do the moment any justice when trying to explain it but it was potent enough for me to recall it image for image 20 ish years later. I remember the display, the colors of the wall, the floor, the feeling of the air in the room. I experienced that cliche of wondering if we were ever crossing each other’s minds at the same time or looking at the same moon at the same time. Because what else would have put me right there in front of that letter from that photographer in a place I would never have been had it not been I moved there to escape that relationship?

I want to be back in the desert so often. I have so much trouble breathing in my life. My life basically feels like it’s filtered through asthmatic bronchia. I have small flickers of spirituality which burn out as quickly as the movement of a lightning bug who is never in the same spot when you decide to look for it. I can’t breath it in through my nostrils here the way I could there where my lungs felt clearest (forget I was still a smoker out there.)

The smell of piñon was my favorite scent of all time. I have tried to buy piñon incense but it’s never the same. After a rainfall there , you could smell juniper permeate the air at its strongest. Another smell I can’t replicate here. I ache for those smells all the time. A thunder storm was magical there. You could see lightning across the horizon. You can’t see it the same way here; only in pictures. And sunsets….nothing at all here like one out there. Honestly, what’s impressive to you here is not much to me. I remember the purple velvet shadow cast across the bottom of the Sandia mountains which gave way to lilac a little higher up, then a couple shades of pink higher up from that. The whole town changed color at sunset and it was never hard to find a spot to see miles and miles and miles of it.

I can recall a holiday party at my boss’ house up in Placitas. The drive to her house was almost mystical. Here, you drive through a bunch of street lights, lefts and rights around buildings, houses, etc. and then you arrive at a house which looks like the other 30 houses on the street. You know where the party is because all the cars are parked outside that one house. Getting to my boss’ house was lots of windy roads surrounded by the pale rocks and red dirt, punctured with greenery sprouting from various crevices. There was only the one house for at least a mile so if you passed it, you realized quickly it had to have been the house because you weren’t going to come upon another one for a few minutes. You drove tentatively for fear of another care coming from the other direction around the sharp, elevated corners.

Inside and out to the back deck, the view was dark and quiet. You could see some lights denoting where the city was you had just come from but felt a million miles away from it….a completely different world. The house was gorgeous and she had one of those fireplaces you see commonly in the Southwest but never here. I felt spirits there for certain when we were outside. Sadly, a few years after that, she lost the love of her life to suicide and eventually had to leave that home as life changed so much for her after that. But I am willing to bet his spirit is still there as he was larger than life in spirit when alive. He has just joined whoever else we could feel out there back then. I know that sounds crazy but when you are out there, you feel it. You are just one layer of life wandering the desert. You are not alone there and you sense it.

Even on highways out there, exits can be 20 minutes apart if not more. Cell service doesn’t work. You see all sorts of rusted out broken down cars and trucks abandoned just off to the side of the road. They have been there for decades without anyone bothering to remove them. It’s kind of creepy and the thought definitely crosses your mind that you hope your car is in good shape and you don’t break down because you could actually die there waiting. That is not an exaggeration. And yes, my car did break down out there once. That’s a story for another day – one I usually tell when I need to demonstrate my grit and determination to keep at my goals no matter the obstacle. That experience will tell you just about everything you need to know about my character and outlook on life. It also explains my obsession with watching my gas tank and why I like to refill at half a tank a lot. I never understand people who run out of gas here. They need to do a Southwest sabbatical and that will teach them.

Every time I think about doing a trip on a 3 day weekend, it’s the desert I want to go to. What paralyzes me from executing is I never feel like 2-3 days is enough and I don’t know where to go. ABQ is an easy place to land but I would have to rent a car to get up to Santa Fe and most likely Taos where I never visited when I lived there. I regret that. I did White Sands, Carlsbad Caverns to the very south. I did Santo Fe multiple times as it was only about an hour away. Did the Grand Canyon 6 hours out, Durango 4 hours out, the Four Corners, Lake Powell in Utah where I discovered no, not every town or destination has gas stations, hotels and restaurants like New England. That ended up being like a 4 hour backtrack but was one of the most beautiful landscape I have ever seen. My sister still laughs at how I thought the person living in an airstream trailer in the middle of nowhere surrounded by red rocks and endless Canyon was the luckiest person alive.

Or, there’s Joshua Tree out by Palm Springs I wouldn’t mind trying. But I don’t really know where to start with that. I think any time I go back to the desert I need more of a “retreat” than a 2-3 day trip but then I don’t want to lend the 1-2 weeks doing that when I use the big amounts of time for Europe to experience, cultures, art and landscape I have never seen. So I end up making no decisions at all and sit in my house like this 4 day weekend where I have done nothing but buy a tree, go to the grocery store twice, buy some sweaters, make a rigatoni casserole and wear my pajamas for several hours of the day.

But, I do appreciate that NPR was able to bring me back to that place in my head today. It was a transformative time in my life for adventures and seeing things I never would have gotten on a plane to see. I found my spiritual connection then and beliefs which connect to me in ways my own religion has failed me over the years. I know you see those movies where a couple guys go into a sweat lodge out in the desert, do some drugs, hallucinate and emerge transformed. It’s totally like that there except you don’t need to go into a sweat lodge and do peyote to feel it. It’s around you all the time and you just need to step outside for a minute to experience it. I miss it so much. I really do.

Prompt: how being am introvert/ extrovert influences your life

I am very much an introvert, frequently assumed to be an extrovert. This weekend is a perfect example. I pretty planned a 3 day weekend to myself on purpose. As much as I would t mind breaking it up a little by spending some time with friends, I’m pretty attached to my couch, flannel pjs and dog. I do feel a little like I am missing out on something and wasting time. On the other hand, I really, really, really need the quiet time of doing nothing.

Why am I mistaken for being an extrovert? Because when I know people I am chatty and turn into the room comedian. Therefore, it’s assumed I am extroverted. If I don’t know people, I am not going to speak unless spoken to. I will go to a bar surrounded by people and scroll through my phone or write but I don’t speak unless someone else goes first. I’m not there to get my energy. Socializing is an ok benefit but not my goal. I have different goals for being there depending on my mood but it’s never about extroverting.

For a living, I read people and try to steer them in the right direction via tactics which only speak to them on an individual basis. I am also an empath so my body literally absorbs the room I walk into and my mood is quickly influenced by the vibe I pick up. I know something is wrong without any word being said. I pick it up from a glance, a hand movement, a tic…all the things most people never register. I see them and start encoding them. It makes me tired.

I need my down time to re- generate myself and be able to get back to Monday morning with my full self available to others’ needs. It really is a process. For awhile, I was keeping myself so “booked” with appointments, gym classes, errands, etc that I didn’t have down time on weeknights and then headed straight for the Cape in weekends where I am not alone. In essence, I think I have been trying to not have time to feel things or I am trying to make the ennui of my life go by faster so that maybe I notice it less. But I’m pretty tired all of a sudden and have been really enjoying time alone in my house with my dog. It’s pretty hard to get off the couch actually.

I shower and wear clean clothes because feeling good is part of my process. I love long, hot showers. That time is a little meditative for me. I like to be makeup free on weekends (which means seeing no one) so my acne can heal properly. When you have anxiety, one thing it’s hard to do is to not obsess about something like nail chewing, hair twirling, skin picking…you name it…an anxious person has something obsessive. I constantly look for zits and blackheads. I have bought really useless gadgets designed to suck out the impurities but they never work. I just spent 4 weeks anxiously waiting for one $30 purchase in the mail. Every day I looked at my front step on my way into the parking lot at night hoping to see the package. The day it finally arrived I was rushing Fergus through his bathroom trip so I could run upstairs and suck the madness out of my face. Didn’t work. So, I am bare faced today trying to give the abrasions a breather before I cover them in 5 levels of foundation for work on Monday. You read that right. 5 different cover ups on my face every day for the past 6 months.

I basically need down time and quiet to rest my brain and my body. For a good chunk of the time I am anxious that I should be spending my time better…that my future husband could be somewhere between my Bed & Bath or Market Basket errands I almost ran today but flaked on last minute. Or that I could be trying harder to make plans with friends or I should have taken the time to research inexpensive weekend vacations. At least on vacation I am out and about for full days, not returning to my hotel until it’s time to sleep. That kind of introversion is useful and productive which doesn’t make me feel guilty or FOMO.

I should be at a town holiday stroll supporting local businesses and watching a tree lighting but it seems super silly to do alone. I’d just end up in a bar which isn’t a bad thing but it isn’t a good thing either. Having the dog is a good excuse to go nowhere. He is so happy to have me around. He can’t get enough of laying on top of me while he sleeps. It’s very sweet and hard to walk away from. In fact, maybe the only other thing this introvert could sometimes use is a lap to curl up on myself where someone just strokes my hair or rubs my back until I fall asleep…something which makes me feel warm and safe and yet un-obligated. My batteries could use a little help at times. But absent of the Herculean effort it would take to find that, the dog and a great pair of knee high socks certainly suffice.

Yes, I skipped writing on Thanksgiving. Maybe I will 2 posts in one day soon to make up for it. That said, I haven’t been writing anything good. I think I’m better off when I let things build up and I start writing in my mind days before I finally sit down and type.

Anyway, current playlist :

In heavy rotation right now is the John Butler Trio Home album. I am also working through all of the Boxer Rebellion albums, all the Ben Howard albums, the new Lucero album, the newest Big Head Todd and the Monsters album. They all pretty much cover the overall mood spectrum I have going right now. These are all on my Spotify shuffle right now and what I listen on the way to work every day.

For podcasts, I just finished the most recent episode of Unladylike and am done with Dear Sugars so I am looking for a new one to get into now. I do the podcasts driving back and forth from the Cape and get heavily inspired to write depending on the topic. Notice how a lot of what I write hits on Sundays. Usually fresh from a Cape commute.

A little late and again will be brief.

I have always been inclined to believe in Karma but have also felt it can be a bit extra slow to catch on.

That said, I think I experienced some of the good stuff tonight.

I went to see John Butler Trio. His talent is of a transcendent nature. I go somewhere in my head listening to him and seeing him live is a real privilege. I think he might be the most talented artist I follow.

On a tangent, he also reminds me of the guys I dated in college. The artsy, hippie, music types. Why I ever diverged from that to white collar, corporate privilege where every guy has the same haircut, I just do not know. I think I was meant to be with artsy, poor hippies.

Anyway, tonight was supposed to be a boyfriend date concert. I had 2 tickets which I NEVER do. No matter if I am dating or not, I always stick with one ticket for me and I can meet up with said dude at another time. I usually refuse to have optimism a guy will work out. Therefore, I was completely humiliated when I bought into summer guy and let him talk me into optimism.

I knew tonight I would have to sit awkwardly next to an empty seat and have to explain it to whoever was on the other side of it. Humiliated. Not to be at a concert alone as I do that all the time. Humiliated because I didn’t think I was doing this one. And true to form, no one took me up on the offer to come with me.

So, yeah. Humiliated going into tonight. But I knew someone from work who has a 2nd job at the concert venue. She’s a pretty great person even though I don’t think she recognizes it. Before I got there, She arranged to have my seat upgraded to a great spot. I had a blast where I wound up and made friends with people next to me for the show.

So, had I gone with douche dude, we would have had ok enough seats but I would have been held back. Tonight, I got to see something he didn’t and experience kindness from another person. I think I got some good karma today.

Will keep this short for tonight as it’s about gratitude. It’s also a benign post about work with no hidden meanings. There is a leader who used to get updated about my online activity and false rumors were spread that my content was work related when it wasn’t.

This is so feel free to scream it from the rooftops.

I made a slight career change six months ago to work for someone who had a reputation as a great leader. Boy was that a good choice! 16 years and this is the best experience I have ever had.

Moreover, I have a group of leaders reporting to me who are just remarkable. Their work ethic is strong. They each bring different talents to the team. They are collaborative and inclusive. They want the best for each other and our associates. They have trusted I was brought in for a reason and have paved the way for me to do the things I am built to do. To achieve the results we have only 6 months in is solely because of their contributions.

I got to treat them to dinner tonight which a tiny drop in the bucket of gratitude they deserve. I am a better leader because if each one of them. They make me laugh when I need it and they laugh at me when it’s needed. They know how to manage up and trust that I will really listen to what they have to say without fear of rebuke or retribution as that’s just not how they roll.

They are why I go to work every day and while I don’t deliver my A game everywhere I go, I sure as hell make that effort for them because they deserve it.

What a lucky assignment I have. It’s a gift, really and the best time of my career. These folks…. they are serious talent and deserve the best in life.

Blessed.

What tattoos I have and what they mean:

I have four. The first one I got was a “tramp stamp” on my lower back at age 21. It’s an image of the Three of Swords Tarot Card. It’s 3 swords crossing each other at the tips while stabbing a heart. The card stands for “sorrow” which seems a bit morbid but putting it on my back was the symbolic piece to denote that I should always put sorrow behind me. I don’t think I had been officially diagnosed with major recurrent depression at that point so I was probably a tad bit too optimistic on that intent. That diagnosis would come a couple years later.

The second one I got is on my left shoulder/upper back. It’s a cross with the claddagh heart in the middle. The shape is based on a design I saw in Ireland. The heart is purple to denote Vietnam and the invisible wounds of PTSD my father had. There are serpents running through the cross, intertwined, which is the same symbol you sometimes see in the medical field. They are there to denote healing. Got that when I was 34 and I think around the time my dad was starting to acknowledge his issues.

38. Just found out dad had cancer. Was also in a very unhealthy relationship because this is exactly the time I decided to stop being a “good girl” who always followed the rules. It just wasn’t getting me anywhere and I decided I was allowed to wallow because of my dad getting sick. I had weeks before started going back to a therapist to deal with my “paranoia” that, based on my dad’s age at the time, he was due to start coming down with Agent Orange problems. I had read that they start presenting in the mid 60s. Though he wasn’t sick when I got my new therapist, I was so convinced he would be soon enough and I knew it would completely fuck me up so I was being proactive and willing to call myself paranoid. Not paranoid after all. I was only 3 sessions in when I found out my dad was sick. Sixth sense I guess.

Anyway, my parents had a house in NH at the time and a boat on the lake. The lake had this really cool spot called “the shallows” where you could anchor your boat and then get out and stand knee or waist deep. People talked to their neighbors, played fetch with their dogs and water games with their families. It was the place to be and the only place I would get out of the boat because I could see the ground clearly and it was just sand. I don’t swim where I can’t see the bottom and what my feet are touching. In order to anchor up, my dad would have to hop out of the boat and drag us to the perfect spot where he would then make sure the anchor was perfectly in tact.

The third tattoo is on my right shoulder and is of an anchor to always remind me where I am rooted with my family and that my dad is my anchor, always and forever, good and bad. Sometimes an anchor keeps you safe and landed. Sometimes it’s so embedded you can’t move and need to. Perfect representation of me and my relationship with my dad. The anchor is surrounded by rope so the tattoo itself is in a round shape. It’s big.

Tattoo 4. My 40th birthday present to myself and the only truly painful tattoo and recovery process I experienced. It’s on my left ankle and it’s the coordinates of where I was standing at the Boston Marathon when the bombs went off. 3 people died within feet of me and many others physically injured dramatically. I was a beer decision away from being one of them as I had been in all their spots only minutes before but decided at the last minute to pop into a bar for a beer. It was the only bar whose windows weren’t blown out.

Because of the shockingly accurate places I stood in several places from 30 to 5 minutes before it happened, it’s actually so freaky how close I was to being dead or injured. I mean super freaky….like it was a divine message I absolutely had to pay attention to. At that time I was going through the motions at work, about to pursue a licensing and career path I had no passion for but seemed the next logical thing to do and all my peers were doing it. After realizing how close to death I had just been, the idea of spending 2 months of my life studying was 2 months I didn’t have to spend on anything I didn’t feel an absolute passion for.

Instead, I went for a Masters of Science at BU and got accepted which was a truly joyous day. I was really proud of myself and excited to get started. Also on my ankle is the Latin phrase “Felix culpa” which can be interpreted as happy accident or fortunate misfortune which, to me, means that no matter what horrible things may happen to you in life, you have to find an upside or a goal or something to make it meaningful. I couldn’t just acknowledge 3 deaths and go back to my life the way it had been before 2:52 pm on 4/15. I got a second chance at life and I put a permanent reminder on myself that I would see every day to hold myself accountable. For all the people who like to label me a pessimist simply because I consider all possible outcomes as part of my decision process, I can think of nothing more optimistic than looking at my life as a gift and every decision I make has to be something which makes my life a higher quality and that I only pursue that which means something to me or my loved ones.

I don’t come from a tattoo family or background. I am from an upper middle class origin where people didn’t get tattoos and it hadn’t become the “hipster” or millennial thing to do yet. They all have them just because. Lots of butterflies, hearts, yoga symbols and rainbows which mean next to nothing. I was the first in my family to do it. My mother was unhappy about it. At least my siblings each got one too. For me, though, I live my life a little more balls out than most and I feel it’s important to mark my “stories” on my body in places (with the exception of one) where they are only really seen intimately by people I might actually care to share those stories with. It’s permanent because these stories are what make me who I am. They are permanently imprinted in my brain, my DNA. I am proud of them, even the dark sides of them which have made me stronger and more clear on how I see the world around me. Plus, when you are in as much emotional pain as I sometimes am, the steady pace and pain of a tattoo needle refocuses and kind of “numbs” the pain in your head by getting you to focus solely on the repetitive sting and rhythm of the tattoo needle. It’s a very different kind of release which doesn’t bother me that much.

Number 5….will happen this year or next. I am just deciding on the exact way I want it done and waiting until I get my credit card paid down better.

Today’s prompt asks me to write about the most beautiful place I have ever seen. While I have been in a bit of a frustrated wheel lately, when it comes to seeing a beautiful place, I have seen too many to pick just one. Travel is my itch. God, it makes me a better person….so less sufferable to be around when it’s just barreling through me.

Mizen Head….the southernmost tip of Ireland. All of Ireland is beautiful. Let’s just get that out of the way. But I was obsessed with driving all the way down. I don’t know where I had heard of that place but it was part of the mission. It’s a bit of a drive and much of it is done on a one lane dirt road. If a car is coming from the other direction, you kind of have to drive up onto a grassy embankment and stop there so the other car can pass while driving up it’s side of the embankment. And yes, the trip is made more complicated by the obligatory sheep crossing which is a very real thing there.

I just remember thinking I was probably a little nuts doing this in a standard on the wrong side of the 1 lane road but once I get an idea in my head, I just keep going. And then suddenly, there I was at what felt like the most remote place on earth surrounded by ocean. It was a slightly lighter bluish green than the ocean back here but not tremendously different. And it looked very cold. There was a very steep stairway down to get a better view and I took it. I was still very fat when I went to Ireland so this was a challenge but I did it. Same trip, did the stairs in a major London Cathedral as well as L’arc de Triomphe. No small tasks when fat and winded. Anyway, nothing much at Mizen Head other than the bluest ocean on a very sunny day. I loved Cliffs of Moher but everyone goes there. Mizen Head, pretty damn beautiful and I am the only person I know who went there.

Savannah, GA is one of my favorite cities. Food is amazing and I was still fat for that trip too so I could eat. If I went now, I wouldn’t be able to eat too much. Glad I went when I did so I could experience the food. But the beauty in that city were some of the squares filled with flowers and surrounded by weeping willow trees marked by amazing architecture….plantation style buildings everywhere. Kind of my dream home style. 20 minutes out is Tybee Island, a very not built up beach town. Their zoning laws are strong in order to preserve the feel of the town. Don’t be fooled, very wealthy people live there and Miley Cyrus was filming a movie there when I went. Whatever movie it was when she met Liam Hemsworth I think. I digress. Tybee Island beach is gorgeous! And for whatever reason wasn’t at all crowded when I was there. I just enjoyed the view and drank pina coladas all day. I’d go back in a heartbeat.

What stood out to me in a London was walking down side streets where buildings were lit by really cool lamps which were fire lit, or at least carried a very realistic appearance to fire. There was a very “old” colonial feel to it.

There are many churches and Cathedrals to see in Paris but lesser known, and my favorite is Saint Chappelle….the stained glass windows are like nothing you have ever seen. It’s like the entire inside of the church is lit from the sunlight filtering through the colored glass. And I think I recall really amazing chandeliers inside. I took some very cool pictures in there.

Lisbon is a neat city to walk around. Lots of gorgeous views depending what height of the city you were at. This city has elevators to take you from one level of the city up to another because the gradient in some areas is quite high. Not obese on this trip so I walked all the stairs, hills, gradients you can imagine. I only used an elevator to go down after stopping for a couple sangrias on the water. You really can’t find too unattractive parts right in the historic part of the city. What’s fun is when you find a stairway entry into the tightly wound neighborhoods where basically once you start to descend, you have to just trust the twists and turns will eventually spit you out onto a Main Street. It’s the most historic part of the city and there are so many beautiful murals painted on white stucco as you maneuver your way through. Closer to the top you get to a few glimpses of ocean view but once you get in, it’s just all the houses clustered together where you can tell many generations of families grew up. It’s an “old” beauty. Very authentic and you know you are nowhere near home.

Outside of Lisbon I fell in love with Cascais. Not just because it’s where the Irish vacation but because it’s kind of amazing and surrounded by ocean. I took a long Oceanside walk which was a stunning view in and of itself. Then, I hit a turn and stumbled upon this huge cliff full of tourists. I wondered what might be so interesting down the little stairs so I wandered down….holy crap the most amazing cavern with the sea crashing up against it. Really, really beautiful and treacherous at the same time.

Similar experience in the Algarve when I stayed in Carvoeiros. Behind my hotel was this little path with a rock which had “plaia” written on it to indicate the beach was that way. Turns out it was quite a downward, harrowing hike down the side of a mountain. Next time, sneakers, not flip flops. There were parts where I thought I should probably turn around but, once again, once I get something in my head I just keep going. And thank goodness for that. There was one turn which gave a small hint of a view to entice me the rest of the way. So glad I went down, it turned into a beautiful cove with a beach and bar. The waves were fierce so I only got as far as putting my toes in the water. It was that Caribbean blue but not warm like the Caribbean. And the rocky landscape was beige and caramel. Ever seen the Depeche Mode video for “Enjoy the Silence” when he takes his chair to a beach? That’s an Algarve beach.

Algarve has a number of ocean towns. I think some may be more developed than others but none developed the way we see developed beach front in the US. Where I went still had a little bit of a primitive feel to it and that’s what you want to experience in a place like that. When you order fish for dinner, it was caught down the street that day. Be prepared for it to come with its head and skin in tact. Get past that. It will be the best meal you ever have. I almost wouldn’t mind owning a little apartment out there someday. But it’s a little bit of a pain to get to. You can fly into Lisbon but have to drive the rest of the way. Or you can fly from Lisbon to Faro and still drive 45 minutes in the opposite direction because Faro is closer to Spain. But if vacation time is long enough, it’s so worth it.

This brings me to Spain. I have to go back there and see more. But there was this one moment driving in the car with my friends from Granada to Malaga where we were on a deserted highway going alongside some mountain terrain but able to see ocean on the left side. They were playing “Enjoy the Silence” in the car and that was a moment, a real moment of gratitude I quietly had in the back seat when I realized what a beautiful part of the world I was experiencing. Something about that song on that stretch of highway at that moment, I don’t know. I don’t really have the words for it but when I am having a bad day, I sometimes flash back to that moment and take a deep breath to restore my balance. And once you know all the places to stop on the highway to get to a beach, you get to beautiful beaches with adorable bars on every one so you can enjoy a beer and tapas with friends. The lifestyle itself is a thing of beauty. What’s really cool on the Malaga coast is every beach section has a themed bar. You can decide whether or not you want to do Indian or African night. We did African for tapas one night. Oh my God! That was the coolest place. I can see why my friends almost had their wedding reception there. If I were to own a summer home, I guarantee the interior design will be based off that place. It oddly felt like home to me.

I have been so blessed to have such an imagination for the things I want to see and the determination to keep going down the dirt roads which are a little scary but always promise to yield something life changing. I have yet to travel anywhere I haven’t been moved by.

I think what has me so stressed lately is the anticipation of not knowing if my salary is going to get straightened out or if I am about to go another year moving money between four accounts and using bonus and tax returns to bridge the gap in my pay to get by. I have been doing it for too many years now and it’s exhausting. My only goal to make all that worthwhile is travel. I can usually get my travel paid off within a couple months of getting back and then start saving for the next trip. This year, it’s been tough and I have nearly maxed out my credit card on vacation and day to day expenses due to my pay not being where it should be by now. I’m still not at the paid credit card and saving for next trip phase yet. It’s really depressing. Travel is my marriage and children.

I want Norway next. It would give me a reason to dedicate myself to some serious fitness goals to prepare for outdoor activities which are a big deal there. Sightseeing is great and I’m sure there is more than enough to experience but being able to stretch myself with hiking or kayaking or any of that stuff would be cool. I mean, I am strong enough to do those things now without too much challenge but I’d like to be more than passable. It would be cool to have a goal and then put my body into something which would give me a different view of that landscape. But, I don’t think I am going to be able to pull it off financially. What’s worse is, I don’t even know if I can pull off any trip next year financially and if I don’t have a trip to look forward to, I feel claustrophobic and almost asthmatic. I just can’t go another year like this financially and I certainly can do it even less when I have nothing to look forward to. When I made the decision 2 years ago to get back to traveling, I got a lot healthier mentally. I’m scared about next year.

“What life would look like if you were good enough”

I would get a promotion before Christmas.

I would be in a happy, healthy relationship with a liberal feminist who respects me and us, what we are building together.

I’d be able to write better and be published by now.

I would have so many invitations to do things with friends I would need to turn some things down.

Mostly, I’d be promoted by now.