Stiff Drinks, Breaking the Law “One Way” & Why People Need PEOPLE

What a week. It still feels odd to stream the zillion thoughts, happenings, and lighthearted musings from my brain, all onto a blog post. I’m a self confessed InstaStory addict (seriously; LOVE IT), and have quite literally had people check in on me and make sure I’m okay, because of my absence. Haha. What can I say? 40 stream video blurbs that POOF! Disappear in 24 hours’ time is kind of a hobby. People either resonate, or they don’t. I’m pretty candid, and I’ve definitely lost some followers along the way (LOL). You know how people either are a die hard fan of Napoleon Dynamite, or they’re not, and there is zero in between? Yeah; such as it is with my Instagram stories. I’m pretty unfiltered. It’s like an online diary. Also probably why I’m unfollowed (LOL).

Anyway.

It’s been good for me to sit my tushie down and actually craft a post vs. shpilling it all quick n easy on social media. I’m sure a whopping maybe 2 or 3 people total read the words of a 20 something finding her way through life, but to be honest, it’s more to keep myself disciplined and my brain turning its wheels, more than it is to entertain anyone. *cricket chirp* *taps mic* *looks out into empty auditorium*

I admit, life has been difficult lately. Actually, it’s sucked on a multitude of levels. October seems to have a common theme of being “Hell month”, circa last few years. It has felt like the Enemy is on active duty and very much at work, and if I’m being real, I have struggled and felt incredibly isolated and in a painful low in a few aspects here lately. I’ve been doing some spring cleaning in my soul, and it’s felt like every attempt to press into JOY and wholeness, is met with some sort of cruel setback. Turns out? At least 4 other dear friends participated in “Hell week” too!

Luckily I am surrounded by a circle of not just friends, but sisters. And we have each other’s back like nobody’s business. I’ve been learning not to foolproof my way through life, and having sisters to lean on is something I deeply cherish. My tendency is to break off from humanity and wallow in my self-dug pit of despair when I’m struggling or stressed or overwhelmed. I have been very (very) stressed and very (very) overwhelmed lately, but,”Golly gee damn!” (-Holly Glightly), I have learned that sometimes our best weapon is to press INTO joy…even when it feels joy-LESS.

So, I dressed up as Wednesday Addams for a Halloween themed missions event/fundraiser…

1. Yes; I realize that Wednesday Addams + an international missions event is kind of satirical.
2. Yes; only a whopping 2 people knew who I was. Everyone else: “Now, who are you??” “Oh! Wednesday Addams? What is that from?” #LOL #Millennials

I will absolutely put a halt to my non-dairy/vegan cheese (ok; it DOES actually taste good, I swear) ways, if a cheeseboard is present. I’m not sure if it’s the aesthetic presentation, or the fact that I could quite literally thrive off of snacks…

…but LOOK AT THIS!

…Oh yeah, I should add that it most certainly was not crafted by the hands of AG. I do not make pretty things. I might be a visual artist in some aspects, but as for creating beautiful looking food and cultivating rhyme and reason…uhm…I did not inherit that gene in the slightest. I can make some fancy toast (try me), and that’s about it.

I provided a bar of sea salted chocolate, hummus, and turmeric shots (They were actually the worst thing that’s ever hit our esophagus), and this boss babe made it all look pretty and edible.

Another perk of sisterhood: People know if we’re close pals if I openly talk about my internal organs. Obvi anyone reading this right here, right now, is a VIP on that bandwagon. I will say though, only the most genuine of friends, are those who are fully in tune with your cracking joints (Do I plan to stop running on asphalt? NOPE!) and pelvic floor.

Two young adults practicing for being the crunchiest old ladies in rocking chairs someday. True friendship is checking on hips and pelvises. That is all.

Confession: I hate wearing pants. And I used to hate running in the cold, because running in the cold meant wearing actual pants. No booty shorts or loin cloth?? DANGIT! See now, when I was a teen, my first experience with running in the cold was attempting to sport tiny little tush hugging shorts…in 20 degree weather.

How did that go? Well, pre-frostbite, screaming for someone to help, passing out in a stranger’s doorway, and waking up on said stranger’s couch with EMTs circled around, is the very short version. Ask me about it sometime. Seriously.

I vowed to never go winter running again. Then, I started winter running, which meant wearing pants. I obliged, but still hated it. And then compression socks totally rocked my world…

People often scroll across my screen version, and at first glance, think I’m this deep, aesthetic, enchanting creature of the internet. LOL. I love the moment they find out I’m a conservative leaning, conspiracy theoristy, kooky compilation of weirdness, or see a photo like this.

Last week was an uberdy bustling one with clients. I am incredibly grateful for them, and it has been so beautiful to cultivate a therapist/client relationship. They are life giving and make me absolutely love what I do! It has been equally rewarding to be almost 2 months into private practice. It still poses many challenges and obstacles to overcome, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

In Los Angeles, I literally would massage anywhere from 6-7.5 hours on average. I rarely had a pause in between each session, and it was this stressful rush of stripping the table, throwing sheets back on, going over maintenance care and a follow up, maybe grabbing a sip of water, going straight to the front for the next client, and trying to give enough time for health intake + assessment, while simultaneously getting them on the table ASAP to ensure they got the session time, and also maybe possibly caveman eating a handful of trail mix from the hippie dippy store called “Rainbow Acres” across the street…

…All in, oh? 5 minutes’ time? My client base was pretty incredible in Los Angeles, but working under a W-2 made it ridiculously stressful and exhausting. I would leave 2 hours prior to clock in (because #LATrafficSUCKS), get there anywhere from 30-60 minutes early (depending on said #LATraffic), work back to back to back, clock out at 9PM, and get back to my apartment close to 10PM (and sometimes, even at 9PM, #LATraffic would still pose some challenges).

The commute, demanding schedule, and terrible management to top it all…was draining. When I started spending a full day in recovery after a work day, I knew that something needed to change. Not even 2 years into practicing bodywork, and I already was in burnout mode.

Having 100% control over how I space my clients out, how many I see per day (no more than 4 hours now!), and all the nitty gritty deats, has made a world of difference. Risky? Absolutely. Worth it? 1000%.

Soul sister Ashley texted me at the end of a full client day to see what I was up to that evening. She’s a teacher, writer/deep thinker extraordinaire, houses biceps that could totally knock down a bully, and we mutually like wine, dessert, and off colored humor. Clearly, we share fetal tissue. She suggested dinner or coffee.

I jokingly suggested a stiff drink.

Except that I wasn’t really joking. Oh yeah, and we are also mutually two of the most indecisive, way too go with the flow kinda people. I knew we’d each had a busy, stressful, post “hell week” when we both suggested and agreed on a spot in the same stream of texts. Progress, I tell you.

Whilst catching every single red light in town and simultaneously being #hangry, I thought, “Man, it sure would suck if I somehow got pulled by a cop.” Well, count it a self-fulfilled prophecy, because as I circled the parking lot, apparently I tried to drive opposite of the “1-Way” sign my eyeballs didn’t catch. Blue lights. Oh crap. Dis ain’t good. Also: WHAT DID I DO?!?!

Luckily, my self-fulfilled prophecy was a highlight of the night. A cop merrily walked over. I frantically rolled down the window to meet my fate. He laughed at me, I made a stupid joke, and then he asked to see my driver’s license.

“I was not prepared for this picture!!”

He looked at it and laughed (as does everrrrryone who sees it – yeah; it’s that bad. The TSA triple checks it every. single. time.) and walked off. Meanwhile, another car also moseyed down the 1-way. They met the same fate as a #hangry AG. Picture an AG in the lead, flashing blue lights behind her, another car behind AG’s cop, and another cop’s car behind that one. Basically: It’s 4 cars lined up, a bunch of flashing blue lights, and an AG facing Main Street and definitely looking like all the drug bust vibes.

DEAR GOD PLEASE DON’T LET ME GET A TICKET PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Maybe he would barter sparing my ticket for a 60 minute massage??

He came back, still laughing, handed my license, and said, “I’m not giving you a ticket. Just turn out of here safely! Have a great evening!”

And I could have kissed his feet. I thanked him immensely, made another corny joke, and marveled at the fact that my self-fulfilled prophecy at least had a redeeming quality.

Red wine couldn’t have called my name any sooner.

“Life is hard…and God is good.” -John Piper

As life poses many uncertainties, trials, opportunities, questions, and one heated election…those are the words I cling to. Last week, I saw God’s goodness by way of the dear friends I call “sister”. People need people. You need people. And people need you. They are not a replacement for seeking Heavenly Father, but they are a beautiful gift from Him. So, let’s keep being real, keep letting others in, and keep doing life together. Even when “hell week” (or month) emerges, we can have a safe place within each other.

Happy weekending. <3