1.6.16

I’m unmotivated and ambitious as hell, all at once, and I’m still trying to figure out how that can be. 

You hear those cliches about moments being the time of your life. How you’ve had your golden years, and everything from here on out is life and it sucks and blah blah blah. I didn’t believe it. I still don’t. But I’m beginning to kind of understand what these people were referring to. 

I find myself each and everyday waking up with the thirst to do something more, but the lack of motivation, or maybe it’s a lack of knowledge on where to start. I know that big things are expected from me. It started at a young age, people creating these expectations for me. I too expect greatness from myself. But the problem lies within the idea of what I should do and how I should do it. 

Too often I hear from my peers about their lack of happiness or satisfaction with their lives. I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to join the club. I have too much to offer.  I enjoy my unconventional life, here on the island of misfit toys. 

I know I’ve ranted about this in a previous post, and IRL, but social media is a blessing and a curse. It’s a great platform to stay connected with friends thousands of miles away, or checking in on your favorite celeb, but sometimes it’s the worst at crushing your self-esteem. 

I’ve never been one to compare myself to others, but damn, does social media posts from friends sometime make you feel like you’re doing absolutely nothing with your life? I get it, social media makes everyone’s life look a little more glamorous. Filters and apps help with that. I’m guilty, we all are. 

I just don’t get how I got here. I was always so involved. Charismatic. Acting, singing, volunteering, dancing, academics, social life, philanthropic, leader, community involvement, campus involvement, etc. I made the grades, I had the connections, the ambition, the unique qualities. I thought I was destined for something other than a conglomeration of freelance work, and an abundance of hours watching Netflix under my belt. I’m not complaining. That’d be too millennial of me. Barf. I’m just a little disappointed in myself sometimes. I should have tried harder, not been so picky, taken more chances. The same could be said about my dating life. But in all seriousness, what happened? Am I the only one who feels this way? Let me answer that for you, I know I’m not. 

We’re all at different stages in our lives. And that’s okay. I embraced it a loooong time ago, but sometimes I just feel so shitty about how my life is shaping up. Don’t get me wrong, I have a great family who loves me, I have cool friends who are supportive and chill. I have jobs here and there and get to work with cool people, and in a rad city. I really cannot complain. But sometimes I explore what I think would be my dream job, and I feel so complacent. Should I give all this up? Should I try to make it big? Should I try to work at some big record label? Move to NYC or LA? I think about it sometimes. Don’t we all?

There comes a point when you have to look at what you have and what you want and settle the difference. Picture yourself in that dream job or that foreign city or with that beautiful stranger. Is it really you? Do you really want it? Or are you just giving into the pressure of society and the expectations placed on you from your peers? Is it just the idea that you enjoy, not the reality?

Honestly, I saw this quote a few months back “you were not born to pay bills and die,” and it really stuck with me. We’re here, on this planet, to live and love and that’s it. Live int he moments with the people you care about, love yourself, and all of the rest will fall into place… when that is, I don’t know, but I’ll let you know when I find out. 

23 Lessons Learned in 23 Years.

23 Lessons Learned in 23 Years.

(Cliches & Mantras Used By Yours Truly)

Seeing as I turned 23 this past weekend, it felt only natural to share a list of 23 lessons that I've learned over the past 23 years of life.

...

1. Be yourself. Love yourself. 
   Fall in love with yourself, your quirks, your guilty pleasures. Embrace them. People will either like you, or they won't, don't worry about it. If you love yourself, others will take note.
2. Surround yourself with people who will help bring out the best in you, and you the best in them. 
   Life is too short to deal with negativity from your friend circle. Surround yourself with cool cats who appreciate you and your likes, people who won't judge you or make you feel guilty. Hang out with folks who you can relax with, and they'll be able to open up to you -- it'll feel natural and effortless. Enjoy that.
3. Life is a bitch. Use precaution, and go forth. 
   I wish I could say that life is peachy keene, jelly bean, but I'd be mistaken. Life is hard. No one said it wouldn't be. But the rumors are true, if you remain positive, and put things in perspective, you'll survive. Good luck.
4. Collect moments, not things. 
   I'm all about the moments. Realize that you are living -- right now. Don't worry too much about tomorrow, or five years from now, live for today. Enjoy the little things in life, it'll make all the difference.
5. Decide what to be and go be it. 
   Yes, The Avett Brothers may have sang this, but I believe it. Be passionate in all that you do. Don't let others tell you that you can't accomplish your goals. Work for what you want, be confident in your choices.
6. Music is there for you no matter what. 
   Music is my religion. Maybe yours is people, or sports, or something else. Find out what it is that truly makes you happy and helps you feel understood. Music is there for me, it helps to be the soundtrack for my life each and everyday.
7. People will come and go from your life. It's natural. 
   You will lose people in your life. Whether it's from a passing, or just a falling-out, it'll happen. You'll mourn the loss, you'll miss them, but you'll move on. Remember the good times you were able to share with them, try not to hang onto any ill feelings about them.
8. Dating, much like most things in life, makes zero sense.
   There's no formula for love, or life, for that matter. Dating applications can only help so much. Embrace the idea of getting to know someone. Their likes, dislikes, their family, real aspects of them. It may work out, it may not. Recognize when you have a real connection with someone, and try to hold onto that.
9. Writing helps sooth the soul. 
   Even if you're not a writer, sometimes it just takes getting the words out on paper to help you through something. Write a letter to your ex about how you feel, you don't have to give it to them. Journal about that family issue, it'll help to relieve the stress. Jot something down on a napkin just to get it out. For me, blogging and journaling help me release built-up emotion. Get it out, you'll feel better.
10. Fashion fades, style remains. Wear what you want. 
    Who cares what the latest fashion trends are. Wear what you feel good in. Pull pieces from your grandmothers wardrobe, piece them with your own finds, it'll be different, it'll be your own. If you want to wear that hat, or that jacket, or that skirt -- go for it! Everyone has their own style, showcase it.
11. Communication is key. 
    No matter the relationship -- professional, platonic, romantic -- communication is necessary. Emails, texts, snapchats, those are great, but don't forget about the simplicity and pure communication of a face-to-face conversation. Express how you're feeling, let people know when you're confused, it'll help the relationship.
12. Time flies when you don't give a shit. 
    Take each day as a new opportunity. Don't stress too much. Don't over-plan. Go with the flow, chill out and take a deep breath. You'll feel more relaxed and have time for yourself and your interests.
13. Feelings occur, shit happens, I'll be fine. All feelings are valid. 
    This is something I've more recently adopted into my mantras. No matter how you're feeling, it is valid. Do not let someone tell you otherwise. You may fall for someone, they may fall for someone else, you'll be crushed, but you'll move on. Feelings don't always fade overnight. This one can be a harder lesson to learn.
14. C'est la vie… or something like that.
    Seize the day. Have fun. Chill out. Sing at the top of your lungs. Dance in public. Talk to that cutie at the bar. If you really like those shoes, buy them. Binge watch Netflix. Do what you want.
15. Never change yourself for someone else.
    Embrace your individuality. Do not adapt yourself to fit the stereotype of what you think society wants you to be. We're all different. When in a relationship, remain true to yourself. Do not pretend to like something because you think they'll like you more. Don't starve yourself for someone else. If you want to change, do it on your own terms, for your own betterment. Do not let a romantic partner change you -- remember your friends, family, career, goals, hobbies, etc.
16. The really great moments are when the world winks in your direction.
    You may be thinking the universe is against you, and just like that, something really great will happen. Maybe you go down a pant size, maybe that job opportunity finally arrived, maybe that cute barista gave you a free drink, whatever it may be -- enjoy it. Life will serve you some hard times, be aware of the tokens of awesomeness that come your way too!
    
17. Be honest. Say what's on your mind. 
    A very recent thing for me. I'm all about the honesty. I went 22 years being nice, not saying everything that was on my mind, not admitting my feelings for someone -- then, one day, something changed -- I decided to be real. I will now go up to the cute guy in the corner and tell him that I like his style, because, why not? I will text you randomly telling you my appreciation for you as a friend. I will let you know how I feel about your new boo. I will also know when to keep my mouth shut, as to not hurt any one's feelings or as to not get myself into too much trouble. There is a fine balance here.
18. Embrace your natural beauty. 
    I have big, wavy, frizzy hair. It took years for me to embrace that. I wanted short, straight hair. Now, my hair is how people find me in a crowd, and I'm okay with that. It doesn't matter if you're 4'11", or 6'2", you're a babe. It doesn't matter if your a size 2 or a size 22, you're a babe. Embrace your look, master your look, love your look. Freckles, glasses, large feet -- whatever it may be, you make that shit look good!
19. Originality is breathtaking. 
    Know who you are. Have your own ideas. Do not copy off of someone else to get attention. Like what you like, don't like what you don't. Posses a passion, share that passion with others, it'll make people swoon. Be original in thought, style, hobbies, etc. Don't cater to the idea of what you think others will think is "cool." Individuality is cool.
20. Family is there for you, no matter what. 
    At the end of the day, you know it's alright to veg out on the couch in your sweats with your family. They may get on your nerves from time to time. They may not be the coolest of cools, but they're your family. Extensions of who you are and where you came from. Learn to embrace that. They've got your back no matter what. Plus, they'll be there with the ice cream when you need to wallow. (Gilmore Girls, anyone?)
21. Coffee, much like pizza, is good no matter what the hour.
    I love pizza. Always have, always will. It's been one of my main food groups for as long as I can remember. I'm always prepared to eat pizza, without a doubt. Coffee, on the other hand, became an acquired taste. I always loved the smell, and when I got older, I was comforted by coffee shops. I don't care if it's 7:00a.m., 3:30p.m., or 4:00a.m. I can drink coffee whenever. The warmness soothes my soul, and helps me feel happy. Call me weird, I don't care. Sometimes I'll opt for the soy chai, but there's something so perfect about going to a diner at 3 in the morning, reflecting on the night out with your friends, and drinking copious amounts of coffee.
22. Take a step back. Recharge. 
    Whether you're an introvert or an extrovert, or somewhere in between. I find myself needing to recharge more and more these days. I love networking, being around people, and just socializing. But there are days or just brief moments where I need time to chill out, recharge, and be quiet for a bit. Give yourself some time to yourself, then get back to your day. This could be in the morning, when you need your coffee and newspaper. Or this could be a night where you go off the grid, and just need some time to yourself. It's important to not burn yourself out. Whether it's with a project at work, a relationship, or socializing. Take a moment to step back. Relax. Refresh. Recharge.
23. No one knows what the hell they're doing. We're human. 
    In today's day and age, it's easy to hop onto social media and see the endless amounts of posts about new jobs, engagements, etc. Do not compare yourself to others. Your successes are just as important as other people's successes. Remember that. We're all human, we all make mistakes. Who cares if your old pal moved to Europe and you're in your hometown. That's great for them, but aren't you happy too? Everyone is trying to figure out their next move, everyone puts on their pants one leg at a time. We're all confused when it comes to life. Fake it 'til you make it, if you have to. Just remember that you are the creator of your legacy. You make your own choices. Yes, there will be some bumps in the road on the journey of life, but that's expected. If you ask others about where they'll be in 5 years, more than likely, they'll also pause and not know. Go with it. Take it day by day. 

...

I'm no expert on life, trust me, but I've learned a thing or two, especially since post-grad. All we can do is put a smile on and go with the flow. Some lessons have to be taught again, some get adapted, but for the most part it's all about becoming your best self and enjoying your life. As I always say: live it, love it, caress it. 

November and I Aren't on The Best of Terms

As the colors of the leaves change, so do the lives of the people around me.

The fall brings a different dynamic to the world. Nature turns into a variety of hues. The wind welcomes our bodies with a crisp hello. The sun tucks itself into bed earlier, and the nighttime joins us. We're greeted by a variety of pumpkin flavored foods and drinks. The layers begin to form in our closets. The flannels are brought out of hibernation, and the socks get chunkier. Along with the sweaters and the jewelry. Fall is here. Hello, Autumn.

Aside from the clothing, we can detect the full fall anthem by the amount of love gained or lost. As of late, I've witnessed many a couples "fall"ing out of love. Perhaps it's due to the Holiday season nearing, or the idea of hibernating with someone for an entire winter could send chills down the wrong lovers' spine. I honestly don't know. Maybe the cooler temps allow couples time to reflect, thus, realizing maybe the time has come to close on their relationship. I have no answers, just observations.


...

The fall has always been my favorite time of the year. Even if I am a winter baby, I love the fall. Autumn, if you will. Everything becomes so photogenic in the foliage of fall. People roam to pumpkin patches and haunted houses. Coffee shops become home (if they're not already) and everyone is in the mood for a hot drink. Something to warm our bones, to ease our spirit and help pick us up from the shorter days. Fall is perfection.

But with fall, also brings the month of November. My least favorite month of the year.

On a cold November night in 2010, tragedy struck my family. My grandmother, whom had been sick on and off for a few decades, passed. I have a hard time still thinking about this. It was November 4th. It was late at night, and I remember my mother answering the phone. I remember rushing to her side as she sobbed. Stunned and confused. We cried. Shirley was and will always be remembered as one of the most inspirational people I've ever met. To be her granddaughter was such a blessing. An honor. Born in the early '40s, Shirley Belew Helton grew up an average girl. She went to school, and was raised in the home in which she lived out the rest of her life. She went to beauty school with her friends on a whim and became one of the best beauticians in the city of Corbin, Ky. She had three beautiful children and married one earnest businessman. A country boy at heart, and businessman by trade. Shirley and Clifton lived an average life. Full of love and family and their fair amount of hardships as well as happiness. Shirley loved everyone. She passed no judgement, for we are all God's children. She went to church every Sunday, sang in the choir and wore a blazer every other day. She didn't leave the house without the perfect shade of lipstick and made sure to always coordinate her handbag to her outfit. I learned a lot from this woman. She taught me the words to Amazing Grace at a very young age, and encouraged me to follow my creative instincts. We used to play her keyboard, in which she'd teach me hymns and Christmas carols. Her soul was pure. Even when she lost her eyesight, she never complained. For she was alive and well, and was able to sing and feel the love around her. Words cannot describe the admiration I have for this woman. I remember in her last weeks, my mother visited her in the hospital nearly everyday, making the trek from Cincinnati to Lexington. Sometimes I would join, but me being a selfish 18-year-old in my first semester of college, I made excuses of being too busy or having too much homework. Those are moments that I regret. Not having the opportunity to tell her goodbye, not being there for her, not reading to her, not singing with her, not telling her about college. I still regret it. But long before her passing, she'd made me promise that I'd sing Amazing Grace at her funeral. And so I did. I kept my promise. I remember looking out into the pews filled with familiar faces and strangers alike, I sobbed, not necessarily because I was sad. I was, obviously. But for being so blessed to be a part of this amazing woman's life. I remember thinking that if I touched half as many lives as she did, I'd be one lucky woman myself.

And so, I digress. The 4th anniversary of Maw's passing happened this week. Each year, it doesn't get easier, it just becomes a day in which we celebrate her. I usually wear a scarf that she passed down to me. And I remember that the reason I began wearing my signature red lip stain was in remembrance of her. A way I can remember her each and everyday.

There are numerous other reasons why I hate November.

On another cold night in November, the 30th to be exact in 2011, we lost a close family friend. Chad (my brother)'s very best friend. He and Chad were the same age, sharing the same birthday. Andy King was a charismatic, passionate, crazy and kind guy. He'd been very ill in his last years of life. I remember the first time I met him. A young, naive Chanell, wanting her older brothers to bring home their cute guy friends. Andy was dressed in head to toe camouflage, like he normally did, topped with a bright orange beanie. I remember saying "He's butt ugly, why can't Chad have cute friends?" I would soon learn to love Andy. Not in a romantic way, but in a brother-sister way. He was Chad's best friend, each other's wing men, partners in crime. They would most normally be found at the drag strip or the local WalMart parking lot, but probably behind a camera, creating their film series "Stupid Human Tricks." No adventure was too big, they would venture to foreign towns to trade cars off of Craigslist, they'd be found cross dressing to make a scene or hunting somewhere in the woods of Campbell County. There was never a dull moment with Andy and Chad. Even when Andy had to walk around with a colostomy bag, using a walker to get to his jacked-up diesel truck, he was still a hoot. I remember distinctly a time when he was belting out Big & Rich's Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy, shuffling to his truck with his walker, "I'm a thoroughbred, that's what she said..." He was like my idol. Seeing him so weak, but being so strong, he was amazing. The funeral came, and I remember by brother and his friends just in a different state than normal. They weren't necessarily emotional. They seemed confused and restraining themselves from tears. Being strong. But I knew the truth, they all were missing him. Andy is unforgettable and irreplaceable.

And just as we thought we'd had enough of November. Bad things happen in threes, I suppose.

Tragedy struck again. Another damn cold night. November 18, 2012. Exactly two years and two weeks after my grandma's passing, my grandpa passed. Cliff, or "Big Daddy" as everyone called him was one of the scariest people I knew growing up. He was a  true Corbin man. Owning a country store out in the "hollers" of Barbourville, Ky. He smoked a lot of cigarettes, drank moonshine and carried a gun in his briefcase for safety. He believed in structure and tradition. He didn't fool with technology and wanted to make sure that us grand kids were getting a proper education. As he grew older, he grew softer. He became more lenient. Allowing us to have cellphones out. We could stay up past 9 p.m., and he wasn't as set on having his certain chair at the table. He allowed us to have visitors over and actually enjoyed talking to people. Big Daddy was amazing. As I grew older, I learned to appreciate his old-fashioned ways. He lost his leg, wheeled himself in a wheelchair, but still managed to get up and go to work everyday. Even in his last few moments of life. He had been in almost nearly perfect health. He was found with his glasses still on his face, with the UK game on the television. At his funeral, I once again sang Amazing Grace. He enjoyed my singing and it reminded him of Shirley. My mother would never be the same after her mother passed, but then losing her father, she was at a loss. And she still is.



So, as the seasons change. As November begins, I cringe. For although I love the fall. It can be a bit harsh. Both in low temperatures, as well as in taking the lives of those close to me... I can only hope that this November is better.

And I digress yet again. For it's more important to maintain a state of positivity. A lush hope. Here's to a better November. Or maybe Green Day should have titled the song "Wake Me Up When November Ends."

Defining A Happy Place

Amidst the various aromas of chain food, the brightly colored menus and the families with loads of loot from a day well spent at the mall, my mother and I discuss happiness. 

It is no secret that my mother has changed. A piece of her died when her parents passed. Her closeness to her mother was something to admire. They talked everyday on the phone. Every morning in a three way conversation with my aunt. 

6:30am on the dot. That was their ritual. For years. 

That was my mother's happy place. Those long distance phone calls. Her morning conference call was the equivalent to most folks' morning caffeine. 

I must say that my grandmother was and will always be remembered as a remarkable woman. Someone who loved everyone. Blind. Literally and figuratively. She passed no judgement and was the most selfless person I've ever known. Her name was Shirley. Also commonly referred to as Shirl Girl.  

My mother was close to Shirley. And since a cold November day in 2010, my mother hasn't been the same. 

And as life would have it, tragedy struck again when my mother's father passed an exact 2 years and 2 weeks after her mother. 

Since November 2012, my mother has had to cope with the loss of her best friend, her parents, and her happy place. 

No longer does my mom feel the need to visit her childhood home. What's left is not the same, and most of the family has up and moved away. 

My mother has lost that twinkle in her eye. That spark that made her so loving and joyful. 

She knows it. 

I know it. 

I assume that others have caught on. 

...And thus I cannot relate. 

But I can empathize. 

For I have my parents. I haven't (fortunately) lost anyone that mattered that much to me as her parents did her. 

I want to help her. I want to shake her and sprinkle the joy back into her bones. I want to trade places and let her see what it's like to be a young adult again. For I know that I am lucky to have my entire future in front of me.

But that's where we were. 

Two lost souls in the middle of a food court. Pondering life over our picked-at rice meals.

What is happiness?

I proclaimed that it was really just a facade that people hide behind and pretend to be happy. For are people really "happy?" What does that even mean. 

My mother decided it meant to be okay and content with your life and your passions. 

But I don't think that's right. I don't think happiness should be complacent or something you settle for. 

For as long as I can remember when people (or countless scholarship essays )would ask me to define what I wanted to be when I got older, I would always want to be happy. I used to define the pleasures of happiness were equivalent to those of succeeding. And each person defines it a different way. 

I do not believe I have a "happy place." I think my memories and dreams are what make me happy.

Moments in time that I can find stashed away in my mind. Times where I'd smile to myself, where I'd cry tears of joy. Moments when I'd be singing at the top of my lungs, when I achieved something off my bucket list. Those are the times that create happiness for me. 

But I cannot tell you if I am happy in the now. 

I feel like I'm still floating, wading, rather in a pool. It feels shallow at times, but as soon as I stick my hand in the water, my heart races knowing that I could sink or swim. 

And that's life. 

I think. 

I am no pro. Yet. 

There are people and things and moments and places that help to remind you of happiness. But I don't know if you can define being happy as a current emotion. Let's take graduating... I wasn't "happy" in the moment. Everything was happening so fast. I was trying to digest what was going on around me. It was surreal. And now, I can look back on the photos and judging by my candid, cackling-smile photos, I know that I was achieving something. And that makes me happy, I think?

I had no mood ring to confirm if I was happy. 

Life doesn't come complete with a mood ring. Or directions for that matter. Life: accessories not included. 

Are people really happy? Or are they pretending? Do we try way too hard pretending to be something that we're not in order to present ourselves in a fashion in which we think will make society happy? Is that happiness? 

These are the the thoughts that I have. Late at night. Having an existential crisis from the comfort of my twin size bed. Or the table at the mall food court eating steak and rice with my mother. 

I think happiness is an option, not a priority. Or a necessity. Living is. And I'll just continue to move forward. 

Different.

And that's when I realized that my family was different. 

As I scrolled through the countless images of families dressed in pastels. Baskets in hand. Bonnets on heads. 

I realized what I wanted. 

I wanted to feel love. 

It all makes sense. 

My family, we love each other. But we don't express it as others do.  

We don't go on family vacations. No family dinners. No trips to the lake, like we used to. 

I want that. 

I want an extended family. In-laws. Cousins. Nieces. Nephews. 

I wanted to share and experience in love. 

Every holiday comes and goes, we'll get gifts for a split second, revel in each others company over a meal, and then it's off our separate ways. To the living room for television. Escaping to the internet to see what others were doing. And yard work or dishes for the parentals. 

Maybe this is why I'm so hesitant to love, but so eager at the same time. 

I know what I want, but I've never had the chance to partake. 

And that's the scary part. 

What happens when I do? 

Will I leach on. Run away. Or just play it coy, like I always do. 

I love love. I just can't bring myself to say it out loud.

Yes, I'm a hopeless romantic. I dream of the day that someone will feel for me the way that I feel for them. 

It may not be a sparks fly moment, like they show in movies, but a girl can dream. 

I just want to feel. 

Ya know?

Life passes us by. Day by day.

We're constantly drudging along, floating by, looking forward to the future. But what about the present?

My family doesn't understand why I'm so hellbent on the idea of one day falling in love. 

But the truth is -- I've never fallen in love. With a human being. 

Therefore, I don't know what I'm missing out on. 

It's terrifying. Knowing there's a feeling that pretty much the entire world has felt at some point in their lives, sometimes multiple times.

And I have not. 

I fall in love with characters. These ideas and concepts of people in books, movies, shows, songs, and more. And maybe that's why I dream up the characters of my ideal mate. 

He'll understand my love for music, my nervous habit of licking my teeth, the way that I'd rather spend hours at concerts or coffee shops than at the mall. How Momma Autumn is my best friend. And how I've been collecting postcards for the majority of my life, but I cannot honestly tell you where most of them are stashed around my house. 

He'll get that. 

And I'll get him. 

But I don't get to experience that. Not right now. 

And that's seriously okay. It's just heartbreaking sometimes. 

Especially around holidays. 

As friends and their families take photos and partake in their traditions. 

I sit. 

In my room. 

Benge watching television shows and romantic comedies. 

That's my life. 

I'm living it. 

But I'm also praying and hoping for an ever loving future. 

And remember, it's okay to be different. This is what life is all about. 

I just can't wait to admit my love. 

Moving

Change. Not the loose kind. The life kind. 

After a little over 7 years being stationary in one home, twenty two years of my life gets placed into boxes, bags and bins. The time has come. 

To move.

As we riffle through our belongings, this is my time to reflect. To reminisce. To pilfer over the items that have had significant meaning to me over the years. Now, they all get tossed into piles. Piles to be moved into a new home. 

I've already had the hard move. Moving in the middle of your Freshman year of high school is difficult. Spending my early years in the walls of a mold-infested farm home with acres of land out in the country to sing, dance, and explore; then moving to the swoop-roofed home "in-town." The difference was a lot to handle at the time. 

And now, we move yet again. Here, only a few hundred feet away from the last. A home built in the late 1880's, with the charm and potential of a home my family had been seeking for years. 

As I sit here, I see our belongings in piles, crowded around me, enclosing my workspace that has turned into the couch. Boxes of curtains, old toys, books, musical instruments and more. These items that have a history, stories, and those that are new and are waiting to experience life with us. 

With exposed brick and hardwood floors, I feel at home. Yes, the vibes here are nice. A lot of history, a ton of character, and space that will make this house a home. 

The move has taken its toll -- a change in moods, stress levels at an all time high, and disorganization -- we're adjusting. 

Some more than others. 

I enjoy the change. I feel like we have a breath of fresh air in the family now. The dynamics different, but stronger. I feel matured? Wiser? No. Just better. Different.

As time went on in our latest home, more and more things began to disappear. Into the abyss of boxes and bags. Labels made their ways onto the piles. But the feeling was unshakeable. 

Every time I walked into my house, something different was missing. It began to feel empty.  

As we embarked on this change, I could feel the cold walls becoming barren.  No memories left.  No love to spare.  

Perhaps this was how we were all beginning to feel. Cold, barren, empty, and ready to move on. Because as we all know, everything is a metaphor anyhow. We were becoming the house, and the house we. 

No longer were we able to hide in our rooms with our gadgets, we spent time together in the empty rooms of what once were our living room, sun room, and dining room. Toward the end of the move, we had become squatters in our home. 

Air mattresses lined the interior of the first floor of the house. Coolers sat around for drinks and "refrigeration" of food. Pop cans scattered throughout with wrappers and fry boxes a wry. 

Our home was beginning to revert back to a house. Just some house that we were crashing in for a few nights until we got settled into the new place. The walls were stripped of their charm and family photos. No more music to fill the air, and no more food to disperse aromas throughout the house. 

The change was different. A little weird. Especially at this time in my life. 

I'm graduating in a little over a month from college. This means the time is nearing for me to find a "big girl" job, get a "big girl" apartment, and start my "big girl" life. No longer can I escape from the real world madness, and hide in the surroundings of campus. But I'm ready for it. 

I've been in this awkward limbo where I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.  I know my future is awaiting me, but I also want to make sure that I enjoy every last moment that I have with the Norse as an undergrad. Attending games, fraternity parties, events, having lunch on-campus, staying up late writing papers, and enjoying the scenery of our campus. But, I also am ready to focus on more intimate details of my life. 

For years, I have had to spread myself thin between school, homework, work, organizations A-Z, meetings, family time, internships, free time, and sleep.  I'm ready for the days where I can work during the day, enjoy lunch breaks with coworkers and friends, focus on my job and its projects, then focus on myself and my hobbies. Making time for family and friends, and really strategizing my time as a young adult. 

This will be amazing, and maybe I have no concept of what life actually is like, but that's okay. I'm ready to find out. That's the adventure.

So until then, I'll continue to write little ramblings on my Mac in coffee shops, take notes of fantasies in the note section of my iPhone, tweet about my favorite moments, and continue to live my life as a college Senior. I'll need to start working on a plan for how I'll decorate my cap, and pick out what dress to wear. I'll need a plan for a grad party, and prepare myself for the summer of weddings and baby showers. Summer is right around the bin, and I cannot wait for the sun and fun of life. Until then, here's this ramble. Change is a good thing. #NKUnextstep 

A Love Poem (of Sorts).

 

He sees her from across the room.

His eyes light up.
Her heart

stops.


Time stands   

still.



The room is full.
Yet, there is no one else.

     Just he.
     Just her.


It's all a blur.


When their eyes meet, his smile widens.

Never has he seen such a girl,
a dreams-come-true kind of gal.

She in her unique ways.
He in his mysterious manner.

Together. 
What a pair.
 

A Farewell Letter Of Sorts...

And now this is goodbye. 

With every word I type, I can't help but think how simply cliche this is. We've known each other for almost a year now, and yet, it's already time to say goodbye. We must move our separate ways. You will mature and so will I. We will reminisce about the good times we shared. But for now, we must prepare our farewells. 

We had a good run. You and I. 

Sorority dinners and dances. Concerts every other week. Movies on the lawn. Road trips to Nashville. Debates about music and film. Late night fireside chats. Time spent in the city. Social media escapades. And so much more. 

We spent everyday together. You walked me to class, you held my hand as I applied for my last semester of college. We bonded over our love for music. You helped me land those internships. You even helped keep me sane during those days where it felt like EVERYONE was engaged. (This is still a problem for me). 

You get me. Really, you do. When I needed that Thought Catalog article, you had me covered. When I was waiting for that cute boy to talk to me, you were there. With a little push in the right direction and a splendid shade of lip stain, you always had my back. 

From party dresses, to leather coats, to pink bandanas: you were there. With that wink in my direction -- letting me know that things were about to get better. With a lyric that helped me get through the day. Helping me clean the dust off my vinyl collection.  Maintaining patience when I insist upon being completely sarcastic. I applaud you and your perseverance to be with me through the good and the bad. 

Thank you. Without your support and guidance along the way, I wouldn't be here writing this letter to you. 

You know who you are. You were there for me wherever I needed you. You didn't ditch me on those Friday nights. And you were pleased to watch (500) Days of Summer with me for the 600th time. Because, I mean, seriously. It's the best soundtrack. 

Better yet, you were there for so many of my friends and family. Yes, lives were celebrated. And love was lost. But that's life. You were there, and that's all that matters. 

I know you and I made a great team. But I must move on. I've got another one of you to move on to. Hopefully they'll get me as much as you did. 

Here's to you, my friend. It's been one heck of a year, 2013. As Fall Out Boy would say, Thnks Fr Th Mmrs. 

It's been great getting to know you 2013, growing another year older with you. Attempting to drive. Yea, hopefully 2014 will treat me even better. 

Cheers to an even more rad year, 2014. Catch you on the flip side, 2013. 

Live it, love it, caress it.

-Coco

Getting To Know Someone...

I think my problem lies in the fact that I try to break the surface too fast. Sometimes I want to fast forward through the small talk, and really get to know someone. Their goals, their families, their fears, what makes them passionate, etc. and maybe that's too scary to people. 

I, myself am someone who is terrible at nocking down these walls that I have so perfectly built over the years. 

If I think you're cool... Game over. 

I will ask you how your life is, what inspires you, what music best describes your personal soundtrack, etc. if you're cool, I will insist that we hang out and get to know one another. I will sprout out ideas as if I am the Facebook event invites that you receive everyday. I will talk a lot. But I will listen even more. For I want to know you. Like really know you. I want to know what you were like as a child, who your best friends are and why you have that scar below your lip. 

This may be intimidating. This may be pushy, or involve too much prying, but I think it needs to be done. I don't want to have conversation that ends up with us repeating the same monotonous details about ourselves that everyone knows. I want to know interesting stories, quirks that you have and how you came to get a certain nickname. 

Is that weird? 

Maybe I feel as though if someone shares some information with me, they will ask me in return. Making conversation, but digging deeper than the surface. I like having those types of chats where I can see your eyes spark with interest as you discuss in detail the ideas that drive you to success. I want you to realize that I don't get to talk about myself often, and when I do, my eyes start to water-- for I do not get serious very often. But I'm giving you this opportunity, as a two way street to delve into my life as we explore yours as well. 

But I can see how that is terrifying. And I can see why you would not want to partake in this. 

But I want this. I want to not just scratch the surface, I want to learn about you. Work to understand you. I want to "get you".


As always,

live it. love it. caress it.

Music Is My Religion

It just takes that one song from that one band to send chills down your spine. You can be surrounded by complete strangers, but for that moment on that night, you all are friends. Friends with the love of this same moment that you all are sharing. You all thrust your fist in the air, dancing along to the beat of the drum and who the hell cares who's watching? Friends and fans unite in a sea of sweat and denim. The house is black, the stage is lit, and you are there. With that special someone. With your best friend. With your family. With no one. But even then, you feel at home. In a sea of strangers, you have never felt more comfortable than the moment when the band takes the stage for the first time, the sea of cellphones light up the audience, and you know that it's going to be a good night. 

Why can't life always be like this? Where we all can bond over this unique moment. Where we can share in laughter and music and be completely present in the show. This state and time holds a place in your calendar. You have the ticket stub, you have your beverage, and you feel the vibes. It's now when you can let go, cleanse your soul of the worries of hours past, this is your time. Relax, rejoice and soak in the moments you have. 

If I've learned one thing from the number of shows that I've seen -- it's that it never gets old. I anticipate the set lists, I study the room, I pick out my future husband, and I think about nothing at all. The choice is yours. This is your moment, spend it wisely-- carelessly or poetically. 

The goosebumps begin, and I can feel my eyes starting to water. As to make sure no one sees my emotional state for music, I make sure to blink a lot to rid my eyes of puddles. This is what I needed -- this is my church. This is where I go to rejoice. Music is my religion.  The cure of any bad day. The symphony to my soul.



Live it, love it, caress it.
-Coco Chanell 

A Tale of Autopilot Daydreams

Here's the thing about relationships -- much like physics, politics and sports -- I don't understand them.  Yes, I cannot learn from experience… well, because I'm lacking in that department.  The department of love and relationships.  Maybe not so much in love, for I know that love exists, and I know that I am too naive to feel this way just yet.  I love my family, I love my friends, collectively.  I am not close enough to most of them to actually love them, if that makes any sense.  I cherish the word "love."  It means too much to me to be thrown around in everyday language.  I adore TONS of things and people.  I love music, I share a connection with it, it warms my soul, the lyrics transcend into medicine when I'm sad, and continually helps to provide the soundtrack to my life.  

I do fantasize about a prince charming who will whisk me away on his lawn mower, playing some sort of super-perfect song, thrusting his fist in the air, and then we'll skip through tall fields of grass, laying under a blanket of stars and confessing our deepest secrets.  It's a compilation of some of my most vivid dreams and scenes from various rom coms.  I can see all of these pieces of the puzzle falling into place, yet I have yet to figure out who my dream man will be.  And I've learned to be very patient.  I hold out hope that I'll see him on the street, brush into him at a concert, watch him walk into one of my favorite coffee shops, or perhaps he'll be at flipping through old blazers at the local Goodwill. It's untelling.  My dreams tell me that this guy is in my life already, and we share a connection that cannot be undone.  

And I know, I've wrote about this countless times before.  But seriously, I'm constantly learning about life, love and all those other lessons that life hands us along the way.

In recent events, I've been submerged into an immensely chill vibe.  Like, completely chill.  Almost to the point where I cannot concentrate on the various events happening around me.  I am longing for breaks in my day where I can casually write as I please, and warm my soul with music and chai tea.  I know I'm growing up, and maybe that has brought on this sudden change of mood.  I also know am aware that I am not depressed by any means.  Yet, when I try to describe this feeling of "autopilot," I sound dramatic and somewhat delusional.  That's not how it is.  Not at all. Let me try to put it into words...

As the day dwells on, I can feel the moments passing me by.  Slowly and reluctantly, I see images speed past me, people moving and living their everyday lives; while I sit (feeling as though I am) frozen in time.   This is not my declaration of depression.  I don’t think that’s my issue.  I think it’s a touch of senioritis, homesick-ness, allergies and a dash of the love bug.  I can feel my prioritizing getting tossed to the way-side.  Projects that should take me a mere hour or two drag on for days.  I can’t concentrate, sleep sounds splendid throughout the day, and then once I get home, I lack the desire to shut my lids.  Welcome to college?

I have been set to autopilot – simply drifting by, not actually living in the moments -- something I pride myself in.  I’m all about the moments!  Yet, here I sit, when I should be working, I blog.  All I want to do is curl up under my warm blankets, stare at the ceiling fan, drink warm tea, get lost in a trance of superb tunes, and write.  Ideally, I’d like to pause life around me – take a small break for myself, and scratch off some of the items on my to-do list.  But no, I do not have time for that.  I barely have time to eat lunch.  This is sad.  But this is life.

I envy the students who have ample amounts of time to spend watching Netflix, or who can take a stroll through the park.  Even during my times of unscheduled activities, a meeting pops up, an assignment has to get done, and it’s on to the next task.  I need some motivation.  I find myself daydreaming all too often. Doodling during class, planning for days down the road.  With songs constantly playing in my mind, I hum tunes to songs I've never heard of.  Images of past events drift into my imagination.  I’ve got it bad – Usher was right. 

And now, now that I am on a break from classes, I have been able to enjoy some of my hobbies that I used to revel in -- reading, writing, taking photos, painting, and simply soaking up the moments of being around my family.  Too often I toss these simple pleasure to the wayside, trying to make way for things that I've tried to make more important.  But that's not fair.  I must stop and smell the flowers, soak in the moments and embrace life.  And all those other cliches. 

As my "lasts" of college begin, I can feel myself separating myself from college, lunging forward into "real world" or "adult life."  I am in an awkward limbo of embracing and living in the moments of college, all while preparing myself for graduation and a career.  This is life, and this is where I am.  There's nothing wrong with this balance, it's just a little more than what I'm used to.  I'm taking on the ideas of life, moving, boys, various internships, work, school, and my involvement on and off campus.  The daydreaming swells all the while.  Longing to be apart of a "we," and not making time to appreciate the "me" that I currently am.  

And this is my life.  An infatuated, workaholic with a lot on her mind.  Balancing life, friends, school, work, and still managing to dab on a little lip color before heading out the door each morning.  As November nears, I miss my grandma more and more.  She'd understand my dilemmas and provide me with years of knowledge.  So here it is -- my thoughts compiled into one entry.  Somewhat random and all over the place, but hopefully helpful in the declaration of my over-thinking, constantly creative, yet chill vibe.  I've had a lot to think about recently, and this, as they say, is What's In Coco's Hair?. 

Peace,

Chanell 

Head Full Of Doubt, Road Full Of Promise

As I journey my way through life, in my everyday encounters, I can feel myself creating an E! True Hollywood Story in my mind. From the shade of lipstain I decide to wear, to the people I meet, the hands I shake, and the soundtrack to the moments.  I can feel myself internally recording each moment so as to not forget it in the future.  The faces are engraved in my mind, the dreams are slowly becoming a reality, and it's time to be an adult.


I subliminally take note of the moment that I meet people, so as to store it away in a rolodex for later retrieval.  As I go to shake their hand, or hug their familiar being, I think of the possible futures we will have.  For this may be the only time we meet, it could be my next best friend, a future employer, or perhaps, just maybe, my future boyfriend or husband.  That's the cool and crazy thing about life -- we can't predict it.  Even now, as The Morning Benders' soothing vibes fill the speakers of my Mac, I cannot tell you how I will feel about this song in the future.  I cannot tell you if I will meet someone who is completely taken over by these melodies the way that I am.  The coin has been tossed, it's in the air, and who knows what side it will land on.  And that's okay.


Every so often I try to take control of these unknowns -- creating lists, handcrafting scenarios of right and wrong -- yet, I still find no answers.  I tense up, my mind swims with the endless possibilities, and I may even cry a bit.  I run to the kitchen to tell my mother of my stresses, she listens, she calms me down, and reminds me that it's okay not to know everything.  It's okay to be unsure, and to jump into a situation with your whole heart, and feel overwhelmed.   That's the beauty of the unknown  that's the beauty of life's moments.  After the calm of the worries, I dry my tears, journal a little, and then become inspired to work harder toward my goals.  That's all I can do.  For there is no magic eight ball to guide me along this path, there is no "pass go- collect 200 dollars."  This isn't the game of life, you do not roll the dice to receive your career and earnings.  Life is not that simple, it's much more fun.


So, in an instant when you're feeling lost or lonely, or just unsure of what's happening around you... stop, reflect, and breathe.  The key is to allow time to reflect.  Reflect on your day, your choices, your life, and those around you.  We will never be able to have all the answers, no one does. And you know what, that's the beauty of life -- so go out and live it! In the great words of The Avett Brothers, "Decide what to be and go be it."

First Encounter

He caught her stare far too long ago. It seems like years or decades, but it has only been a few short months.  He was gussied up in a suit and tie in the line of the local coffee shop.  The gentleman had a gaggle of girls within arms reach, yet he looked uninterested.  Writing material in hand, she wasn’t sure if he were real.  For she had only seen characters like him on the silver screen, or in drawn-up scenarios in her dreams.  Yes, he was a dream.  He had to be. 

She had to talk to him. This boy. This man. This guy whom had appeared out of no where.  She had frequented that shop so many times prior and had never seen his face.  Was he new to town?  Was he here on business? Or was he in fact a dream -- a figment of her overly-analyzing imagination. 

Yes, he was tall, mysterious, yet so full of life; with vibrant eyes and a charming smile.  With books in hand, she knew he was about to set in on a literary journey, conquer the world, or casually write the next Shakespearean play.  Who knows.  He was a man of adventure and lust as she could see it.  With his hair slicked back, grey pieces mixed to create a suit.  This man was polished.  He was poised.  He was dare we say it... perfect.   

She, an innocent girl standing in line to order a chai tea (most likely), and him, a handsome boy dressed to the nines.  She stood there in shock and utter embarrassment.  She could feel her mouth gaping and her heart stopping.  He had caught her stare.  Not for a moment, but for what felt like an eternity.  He was just the kind of person she’d been praying to stumble upon in one of these romantic-comedy-like scenarios.  And here it was, happening right then and there.

To her. Of all people. 

She doubted the encounter meant anything to him.  But she also knew this was her chance.  She was sure he got that all the time, but she had to talk to him. This guy. 

So, as he finished his order, she tapped his shoulder. 

...There it was, the first touch... 

He turned to look at her.  Time stood still.

She complemented his style... how she was able to utter words is still amazing.  He, in turn, complemented her outfit. Telling her he appreciated anyone who didn’t dress like everyone else.  

She was smitten.  

He had noticed her. 

They exchanged names.  And that was that.  

He was impossibly charming and she was taken back.  Never had she met someone who intimidated, yet mystified her in such a manner as he.  She had only hoped their paths would cross again. 

...

Months went by.  She hadn’t seen him for quite some time. She was sure he had moved.  He'd probably met the exotic love of his life and was sailing around the world at that very moment.  She could tell he had history about him.  He had some stories to tell, and she wanted to hear all of them.  She wanted to listen to old vinyl with him, drink coffee and discuss the dilemmas of the world.  She wanted to spend time with him and just sit in silence.  Taking on the world with one 80s film after another.  But that would never happen. 

Not for her. 

Months passed, and she kept that moment of their first encounter in her mind. She longed for a day when he’d want to sit down with her and talk. About everything and nothing. One of those kind of moments.  They'd drink tea in a crowded coffee shop and exchange stories of their travels and dreams.  

Until their paths cross again, she’ll hold onto that memory of the moment that he caught her stare in that coffee shop on that warm, summer day.