27: A Year in Review

Today is my last day of being 27. As of tomorrow, I take on 28 with a bright, welcoming and hesitant hug.

Not to sound like a total cliche, but I feel each age has something you can take away from it. Not every year is going to bring huge life changing moments or eclipses of insight;  some are more eventful than others, what can I say?

When I think back to where I was last year on this exact day, 26 and about to turn 27, I don't think I could have imagined how much evolution this age had in store for me. Unemployment. Moving. Personal struggles and triumphs. Africa. Pregnancy. Yowza, what a year.

I decided it might be good to give a quick summation of the things I learned, as well as a few things I'm looking forward to educating myself on, at 28.

What I've learned:

Don't ever settle for unhappiness. Even when things seem desperate, they will get better. On this day last year, I was miserable with my life. I hated my job, more so than I even realized, but put up with the misery because the money I was making was good. Also, I think I was so entrenched in my daily reality that it was difficult for me to take a step back and look at how anxiety ridden I had become. It was incredibly unhealthy.

Your self-respect is worth more than ANY paycheck can provide you. I finally found the balls to leave my job after a situation forced me to examine what I had come to accept as my day-to-day reality. If you hate what you're doing or hate the person you're working for, figure out the next step and quit. It's scary and uncomfortable, but good things can only come from following your heart and listening to your gut.

Life is meant to be enjoyed. Experiences, love, laughter... these are the things you will think about when you are close to death. Wow, that took a sudden morbid turn, didn't it?  I am trying, in my pregnant brain stupor, to explain that I have been trying to soak up the goodness in every opportunity life provides me. While some of those experiences couldn't be bottled up and paid for, there are others I will NEVER regret splurging on because adventure, taste, landscapes and moments are memories. And memories (AND LOVE) will keep you company in your old age.

Love is hard work. Ok, so I didn't necessarily learn this lesson this year; it's more of an ongoing bit of discourse. Some days I am loveable. Some days, I am not loveable at all. We all must face the fact that we cannot be loveable all the time!!! So when you find yourself driven to the point of insanity by the person you're with, take a step back and remind yourself of why you fell in love in the first place. And then remind yourself that they too have to take a step back and remind themselves of why they love you.

You are most likely the person who is hardest on yourself. And you should give yourself a break. Try to remember these lovely words from Roald Dahl: “A person who has good thoughts cannot ever be ugly. You can have a wonky nose and a crooked mouth and a double chin and stick-out teeth, but if you have good thoughts they will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely.”

What I Think I Might Learn:

How to change a diaper.

What my mom went through to give me life.

How to bake a loaf of bread from scratch (full disclosure: I technically already know how to do this. But I haven't done it on my own yet. So there in lies the challenge/lesson).

How to be a successful freelancer AND stay-at-home mom concurrently. This may be the hardest lesson of all.

Ok, 28... I think I'm ready for you. 

An Apology and An Announcement

I've spent the last couple days thinking about this blog: reflecting on what it originally started out as, reflecting on what it's turning into, and I've come up with the following.

This blog is officially 10 months old (ok, almost 10 months old). If you'll remember my first post, it was a proclamation of sorts. The week prior to RISD's creation, I had quit a miserable job. It was one of the best decisions I've ever made, but not entirely expected. I found myself without work, without money and without a plan.

A month later, my husband received a job offer and we scurried ourselves from frenetic and harried Los Angeles down to mellow San Diego, only to be hit with the realization that (1) landlords are unlikely to rent to you if you own a pitbull and (2) we needed to save some cash for our African adventure.

So we moved in with Kyle's parents (who I cannot thank enough).

At the same time, a friend of mine reached out for some assistance with her business and I realized a few things: I was good at it, I could do it from home and it offered me the flexibility I needed to focus on a different business I was helping to get off the ground. Woot!

Suddenly, July was October, and we were in Africa. In November, we moved into our new house (dog included!). And suddenly, it was December and Kyle and I found out we were going to be parents.

2011 was quite a year, folks. It was quite a year.

Which brings me to what I've been reflecting on for the last couple days. The last half of 2011 was all about transition and change and essentially, TAKING ON THE WORLD like a badass! And it was fun to chronicle that journey for the most part. It was uncomfortable at times, and some of the things I've written about that needed follow up haven't been taken care of yet, but overall, I've been loving this blog. And I still do, by the way.

However, in going through old posts, its obvious which were quality and which posts were filler, and I need to get away from the pithy writing. I need to get away from feeling like I have to post every day and that I'm a failure if I don't. And this, of course, brings me to the obvious content change that has happened since we made our big announcement in February.

All I want to write about is my baby. My BOY! I did not expect it to be such an all consuming thing mentally, but it is. I think the all consuming physical part goes without saying.

Things have mellowed out for me and for Kyle, and while we are still trying to figure out life the best two twentysomethings can, I can't deny that writing about uninteresting things, that taking a short cut with content and that putting shit on this blog just to say that I did has been making me feel icky.

It's been making me feel like a blowhard.

Thus, here are the decisions I've made and I know they will affect my readership considerably.

(1) I am done with posting links to this blog on Facebook. I figure if you like RISD enough to keep coming back, you will.
(2) I am done with boring, irrelevant posts. Yes, it will mean not posting every week day. But I feel it will up the quality considerably.
(3) I have to give in to the fact that this may become a baby blog. Or a family blog. And I have to be ok with that and embrace it for what it is: my life now.

It's funny because I find myself asking the same question I did in that first post, almost a year ago...

Care to join me?

Future Mama Musings on a Rainy Monday

Last Friday, I had my last appointment until we find out if Baby S. will be a mini-Kyle or a mini-Elizabeth. I went by myself because Kyle didn't have the time to spare at work, and even though the majority of the visit feels like a true waste of an hour (because at this point, peeing in a cup is far from exciting and weighing myself is increasingly depressing), every second is worth it to hear our baby's heartbeat. It's strong, if you're curious.

The whole visit got me thinking: what is this little devil going to look like? I have to admit, the more time passes, the more my curiosity starts to rear it's ugly little head; it is starting to become an all consuming thing, this wondering about baby.

So I did what any rational pregnant woman (this, of course, is an oxymoron, if you'll remember rule number one in this post) would do: I drummed up some photos of me and my baby daddy from childhood. Which has only led to increased mental anguish, naturally.

Take a looksy and tell me what you think... I can only imagine how our genes are going to combine to make our perfect little bambino.

Baby Daddy (aka Kyle):

and me (aka Elizabeth):

And apologies for the somewhat blurry photos! I had to take a picture of them since our scanner's not hooked up, and the quality is less than stellar.

Happy Monday!

Sending Out Happiness

I had an epiphany of sorts over the weekend that made me damn proud of myself.

You know how some people, when they hear good news from their friends or family (or even strangers and acquaintances), say, "I'm so happy for you!" but... aren't really? Either, the sentiment isn't genuine and they're just blurting it out because that's the seemingly appropriate response, or they say it knowing they should mean it, but really are jealous or resent the person's achievement or good luck?

I came to the realization this weekend that I am not one of those people. When I say I am happy or excited for the people I love, either in what they've accomplished or things that have happened (or is going to happen) to them, I mean it. 100%.

So I had a "Yay, me!" moment.

It may seem silly to applaud myself over something as simple as being genuine in my happiness for others, but I wouldn't feel proud if I thought every person is this way. The truth is, I don't.

And don't think I'm saying I've never experienced envy or jealousy. Any human who says that is a liar. Or a sociopath.

This Valentine's Day...

... it would appear cupid brought us a baby.

More on this tomorrow and have a wonderful day with the people (or animals) you love.

For My Beautiful Sister on her Birthday

"A sister is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost." -- Marion C. Garretty

 Here's the thing about the above quote (aside from the fact that it's very true): if I were to base my relationship with my sister Ginny through our interactions in childhood, we might be in some trouble. She was always the sassy one (still is most of the time), getting us into trouble (still does occasionally), stealing my clothes, starting physical fights for no reason other than she liked fighting, then telling on me after I won said fight (I believe it's called self defense in some circles)... the list of naughty things she did when we were little goes on and on.

But there are also the things that cannot be ignored: our fierce propensity to stick up for one another, her ability to make me laugh, our innate understanding of who the other truly is deep down at the heart of it all... We really have made it through the thick of things time and time again, only to find ourselves as best friends.

It feels awesome to be able to say that.

My parents have told me that when they brought my sister home from the hospital 26 years ago, I spent two weeks being a complete nightmare: crying, screaming, throwing tantrums left and right... essentially, anything I could to show my anger at that fact that I was not the only baby anymore. My mom says around day 14, I kind of realized my efforts were for naught and that, no, in fact, you can't just take her away. She was there to stay, just like me. 

And thank goodness.

So, to my beautiful, caring, thoughtful, mischievous sister: I love you and a very happy birthday to you.

Happy Birthday, Papa Burt.

Photo courtesy of Deb at Smitten Kitchen

Today marks what would have been my grandpa's 90th birthday. He only made it to 80 and it still manages to surprise me how seemingly long he's been gone, as well as how it feels as though he only passed just a couple weeks ago. He died the day I moved to college and while I'd like to believe that 18 was relatively recent, the fact that I'm two years from 30 cannot be ignored.

I am a very different person from the one I was 10 years ago.

Sometimes I like to imagine what it would be like if he and my grandmother were still around. What it would have been like to have them at my college graduation. At my wedding. I used to say to them when I was little, "But you are going to live forever, thankfully!" to which my Papa Burt would always reply, "Elizabeth, if you live long enough, you're gonna die." He was pragmatic, if anything.

A man of very few words, he was a puzzle I knew like the back of my hand and one I could never figure out all at the same time. I still do, really, feel like I knew him so well and not at all. It's hard to explain.

There are things I have about him ingrained in my head that are vivid, and it's comfortable when a memory suddenly floods in. How he used to style his snowy white hair with Brill Cream. His tan or gray Members Only jackets and how he always smelled like Brut cologne. His love of Cowboy Western movies. His homemade vanilla ice cream. Playing "Clair de Lune" on the organ. 3 O'clock Diet Cokes, always with extra ice and a straw. Turbo speed in his light gold Saturn.

I realize how lucky I am to have had a set of grandparents like my Grammy and Papa. When you get older and start to see the intricacies of the world, you realize that not everyone is lucky to have wonderful grandparents (or even a mediocre set); amazing grandpas and grandmas are truly a thing to be treasured and cherished.

So while I will always greedily wish I had more memories, more time with him, I am forever grateful that in all the inexplicable luck, or destiny, or whatever you want to call it in the world, that he was mine.

That he was my grandpa.

2012: New Year... the best yet?

Well, November and December breezed by and aside from some annoyingly awesome writing and photos about Africa (which can be read here, here and here), my posts were few and far between (and if we're being honest, paltry at best).

The problem with having an-almost hiatus on a blog like this is... it's hard to get going again! What do you write about when you've been sitting on your ass eating Bonbons for weeks at a time? (I'm lying here- November and December were actually craaaazy busy months and I don't even like Bonbons). After reading some of my favorite blogs after New Year's (this one being a favorite for almost a year now and having given me the idea), I'm recounting 2011 in all it's bittersweet glory and throwing out goodwill and hopes for 2012.

This time last year, I was working 55 to 60 hours a week in a job that was not only mentally and physically exhausting, but not fulfilling in the slightest. While I can't say enough good things about my former coworkers... ummm, maybe I'll just leave it at 'I can't say enough good things about my former coworkers.' They were fabulous (and a few were like characters out of a movie... you couldn't make up some of the shit that flew out of their mouths).

After quitting in June, I started this blog with a post affirming my hopes for my future. Admitting I didn't know what to do with the rest of my life was the first part of the battle; the second was actually figuring it out.

At the time, my husband had just graduated from USC and had yet to find a job. Within weeks, he was offered a position and we moved to San Diego... where we moved in with my in-laws because no one would rent to people with a pitbull. Do you know what it feels like to move in with your husband's parents at the not-so-young age of 27? I sure do and it's pretty awesome.

It's not pretty awesome, FYI, and I actually have awesome in-laws. [Side note: Adults out of college who live with their parents and like it: how and why do you do it?]

On the work front, I had the brilliant stroke of luck to be asked by a friend to help out with some social media accounts of hers and realized it was not only something that interested me; it was something I was good at (and could do from home!!!). I was able to help create the aesthetic design and content for an awesome boutique's website and continued to help my mother-in-law with a project that has been two years in the making and should launch in 2012.

In the blink of an eye, August and September had flown by. Before you could say African adventure of a lifetime, October was upon us. There is one thing I will say about the month of October, aside from our incredible trip: it was one of the most challenging and difficult times of my life. I realize I overshare to all you three readers quite a bit, so while I won't go into specifics, I will agree that the saying is true: what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger (in all aspects of your life).

I'll refer to November as "catch-up hell," which then luckily trickled into December, nearly killing all good holiday spirit and cheer that I normally have in abundance at that time of year. One stroke of luck was finding a small house with a landlord who would rent to us, even with our dog, and getting our own place calmed things down in our lives a ton.

So here we are... 2012. I can tell you there is already much in store for this leap year, including the launch of my business (SCARY and exciting, simultaneously), hopefully some decent and creative writing, as well as a special little project I have in the works...

How about you? What do the next twelve months in your life look like?

I'll be sitting on the couch covered in chocolate and ice cream awaiting your responses.

All three of them.

Happy New Year!

I haven't forgotten...

... about this blog!

And don't worry- there's still one more Africa post in the pipe, so get excited (or groan, if you're over hearing about it)!

A couple excuses (because they're always fun):

• Two Thanksgivings and a 90th birthday party for Kyle's Grams.
• Getting a new place and moving into it!
• Trying to finish this course before the end of December. 
• Preparing for a girls weekend (!!!!) with my sister in NYC this weekend.
• And, you know, life in general.

To keep myself from feeling like too much of a blog slacker, here's some Pinterest pinsperation for you while I attempt to not have a nervous breakdown.

This is all well and good, but my new house
is looking AWFULLY sparse without the things...

A little chaos currently at the new abode.

Has this claim been substantiated?

Can someone please tell my husband this?
The complaints I received for the amount of books I own
was a little ridiculous. This is not Fahrenheit 451, people!
And I refuse to buy a Kindle!

Not on the street corner or anything, but you know...

I need a pair of swimming pigs to call my own.

Bed is my mistress currently.

Apparently, Sheniqua is the one hustlin'. This made me L-O-L if you will.

If you love procrastinating on Pinterest as much as I do, you can follow me here.

Happy Monday everyone! I hope you all had a fabulous Thanksgiving filled with your nearest and dearest.

And We're Off!

Today's the day... Africa, I hope you're wearing your big girl panties, because here we come!

As promised, a Halloween inspired post before we head out to the airport, over and then out of the country (I'm so giddy and pumped full of caffeine that I can barely even type this).

I've always loved a good game of dress up.

I'm pretty certain we thought we were uber-glamourous.

Costumes, makeup, accents, theme parties... the whole nine. I love it, I love it, I love it! Thus, when it comes to Halloween and getting dolled up, I'm always down. Furthermore, I'm a UCSB alum and if you know anything about my alma mater, it's that we know how to do All Hallow's Eve the right way. En serio.

Photos you won't be seeing: my costumes from sophomore and junior year. The first was Tom Cruise from Risky Business, which of course means all business on top and no pants on the bottom.

Junior year's was rather inspired and the way it came together was almost serendipitous. My friend Matt and I were trolling State Street in Santa Barbara when we decided to go into Salvation Army. There I found a great Red Cross volunteer coat that reached to just upper thigh level. I paired it with knee high black leather boots, black booty shorts and a garter belt.

When my grandmother saw the pictures a month later, she said, "Well, you looked cute honey, but I think you forgot your pants."

Halloween 2002: Viking towel guy, German girl, Austin Powers

Halloween 2005: Abraham Lincoln and 80's girl (?)

Halloween 2005: Me as my roommate and German boy

Halloween 2005 (I dressed up 5 nights in a row that year): A whole lot is going on here.

Halloween 2005: As pizza girls, we carried jello shots in the boxes. Matt plays Bob Barker (scarily well, might I add).

Halloween 2008: Flapper and a little cat.

This pumpkin looks like Chevy Chase, am I right?

Halloween 2009: Sherlock Homie and Amelia Earhart (with Dog as her Co-Pilot)

Halloween 2009: Some amazing costumes to be admired.

Halloween 2010: Sherlock Homie (eye roll... AGAIN?), Miss Piggy and Grumpy Bear.

A zombie leg created fun whilst waiting in line.

I actually found a Kermit on the street! I have no clue who this guy is.

The whole gang, Halloween 2010.

Thanksgiving 2010... Yeah... I really meant it when I said I love to dress up.

Needless to say, I don't have the balls to go pantless anymore.

Another thing we'll be missing this year is the annual pumpkin carving party we throw. It would have been our third annual, but I'm kind of ok with, you know, us leaving for Africa in a couple hours.

Did I mention how excited I am already? Yes? 

I'm excited.

2010's clear cut winner. It turns out Matt is not only an amazing lawyer, but a talented artist as well.

"Ladies Fingers" soft pretzels I make each year (with marinara blood, naturally).

Our Halloween tree and some delicious banana cupcakes!

The spread. One of my faves? The "Don't Drink & Fly" napkins.

Trick or Treat, everyone, and see you on the flip side...