So, I have a bachelor’s degree now…

I graduated two days ago and since then I’ve been extremely emotional. If you look at me wrong, say the wrong thing, take too long to respond to me, I lose it emotionally. I’ve cried at least ten times in the last 48 hours, and it’s getting ridiculous. I know it isn’t because I graduated from college, I think it has more to do with not knowing what the future holds for me.

Talking about future prospects freaks me out because I’ve been out of the workforce for so many years and have been a student for the last four years….it’s daunting to think about getting a job right now because I want to get my masters. Also, I’m having a hell of a time figuring out where to even look for a job. Do I want to look where I currently live or where I hope to live in the future? There are many factors that will weigh that decision, but I’m not sure I’m capable of having those conversations right now.

I’m proud of myself for having made it this far and part of me is scared to stop, due to the fact that I may never find the time to go back!

evergreen grad 2016 5

Me and my bestie, Tish!

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Dear Tirzah,

Remember to breathe. There are two sides to every story, every situation & every circumstance…don’t choose sides, gain perspective. You aren’t a bad person no matter who tells you otherwise. You are capable of great love, immense happiness and worthy of complete devotion. You will be surprised when you realize that your love is not disposable.

Life will fall into place when it’s supposed to. Love the job you choose, don’t settle for less than you deserve. Delete the old bucket list and start a new one that is full of all the wonderful places you want to go, and the things that you want to be part of. Forget your past transgressions and forgive those who have hurt or offended you over the years.

Cherish your family and friends, loving each and every one with abandon. Face your fears. Speak your mind. Quit being passive. Ask questions. Ponder answers. Live your full potential. Stop getting down on yourself, it doesn’t help progression. Don’t be afraid to hurt. Don’t be afraid to love. Confide in your friends. Write more letters.

Savor each moment. Listen to music that soothes your soul and fuels your passion. Sing with the windows rolled down. Take more pictures. Read books that challenge your mind and strengthen your understanding. Keep moving forward, don’t get complacent. Remember what you’ve overcome and where you want to be. Let your guard down. Keep your head on straight. Make mistakes and apologize when necessary.

Be happy. Be yourself. Be genuine.

Paving The Way With Good Intentions

Looking back over some of my writing from the last few years, it struck me that we never truly know where we are headed in life. Old posts that touch on what love should feel like, what passion should look like, what commitment must be like…it’s all relative to the situation. Take for instance thinking you’ve found your soul mate, when really what you found were the guts to share you feelings with this person, but it never amounted to anything more than that.

Life is constantly in motion; it’s always moving us along, creating new paths and new obstacles to show us that we can overcome our fears and our demons. So many times I thought I knew what the hell I was doing, but what I was doing was simply moving forward. Gingerly paving my way with good intentions filled with friendships, lessons, loss, love, greed, persistence.

What can we gain by sailing to the moon if we are not able to cross the abyss that separates us from ourselves? This is the most important of all voyages of discovery, and without it, all the rest are not only useless, but disastrous.

Thomas Merton

Would you like to hear about what pisses me off? Or at least what pissed me off today.

I’m sure you do. In fact you can’t wait for just the teeniest morsel of pissedoffishness!

So here it is…

I had to call DSHS this morning in order to complete my eligibility review. Even though the automated system kept hanging up on me because “all circuits are busy, please call back later,” I was diligent and proceeded with good ol rapid fire redialing. I got smart and wrote down all the prompts and finally made it through to the queue where I was told my approximate wait time would be 27 minutes. I knew right then that it was bullshit. I called last week (too early for September reviews apparently) and sat on hold for TWO hours only to be told that the earliest I could call in and have a review would be August 26th, which is clearly today.

So I sat on hold…..doodled and drank coffee, tortured the cat, played with my son, played a game on my Kindle, sent copious amounts of email, checked Facebook and grew more and more impatient.

Pet me, you worthless human!
Pet me, you worthless human!

Finally, after 1 hour and 4 minutes, I was on the phone with a woman who sounded like she could have had a laptop perched on her legs while she was in the bathroom taking a shit. You know that sound…echoey and stark. She verified my address, family size and the amount of child support I was supposed to be receiving and then she typed up a bunch of junk for the next 4 minutes, told me I was good to go for another year and that was that.

Seriously?! You had ALL of that information plus every other detail of my life in the plethora of forms that I submitted…what is the purpose of making me sit on hold for so damn long?!

I know, I shouldn’t bitch about it, but you know what? IT PISSES ME OFF!

Where I’m From

I am from a place where kids stay out after the streetlights come on, from crackers and Easy Cheese and butter smothered popcorn.

I am from the country…a two-story house, water from a well and acres of land.  I am from honeysuckle and buttercups, scotch broom and thistle.  I am from bales of hay and saddles.  I am from tire swings and slip-n-slides, from wedges of watermelon and bike rides without helmets.  I am from sunburns and jelly shoes, from apple trees and snow boots.  I am from animal lovers and rescuers, from garden grown vegetables and home canned fruit.

I am from Lundquist, McDougall and Fahey, from card games and Super Bowl parties, from 50 cent pieces and scratchy beards.  I am from blue eyes and olive skin, from rules and consequences.  I am from lemon drops and cups of tea.  I am from banana milkshakes and late night conversations.  I am from educators and enforcers, from salesmen and laborers. I am from stubborn and meek, from passive and proactive.  I am from submarines and ships, from newspapers and books.

I am from the fort under the card table and the branch on the big tree in the front yard.  From record players and eight-track cassettes, from Polariods and negatives.  I am from bowling alleys and virgin Shirley Temples, from truck beds and swimming pools.  I am from bleachers indoor and out, from band and volleyball, from music and art.

From Strawberry Shortcake pillows, a canopy bed and albums full of Garbage Pail Kids, from Cabbage Patch Kids and Care Bears.  I am from Saturday morning cartoons and heaped bowls of Golden Grahams.  I am from family road trips and The Bodyguard soundtrack.  I am from emergency room visits and a broken arm, from aunts, uncles and cousins.  I am from wood cutting with Grandpa and dessert baking with Grannie.  I am from yarn and handmade afghans, from fabric and sewing machines.

I am from The Holy Trinity, The Torah, confusion, spirituality.

I’m from the Bear Festival, The Evergreen State and The Muddy Banks of the Wishkah.  From the ocean, blueberry bushes, homemade jam and pillowcases full of Halloween candy.  From the catchy jingles at Christmas time, the tar from the middle of the street, and the dad I finally had the courage to contact.

I am from nicotine outlined frames on the living room wall, scrapbooks and wallets with picture inserts.  I am from yearbooks and wedding pictures, from grade school stories and awards and ceramic handprints.

Me & Grandpa, 1981-82ish

Hung The Hell Over

Ugh.

Bring on the hangover relief (Patrick is too good to me)!

I think it’s safe to say that I drank a little too much Hennessey last night.  At least the drinking resulted in quite a bit of fun.  I didn’t feel so hot shopping with Tiff this afternoon, but I did my duty pushing the cart and helped load it in the car all the while feeling like I was nearing death. lol  We’re making lasagna for dinner tonight which doesn’t sound too appealing right this second, but I’ll survive.  Apparently I have nothing too exciting to say other than my stomach hurts and I feel like ass. lol

I drank my “stuff” and ate a Ding Dong…alas, let the curing begin! haha

One of “those” days…

You know the type I’m talking about?  The types when you want to shut the world out, sit in the kitchen alone drinking coffee, write a letter without interruption, and be uncharacteristically quiet. This weekend was full of family socializing and fun but for some reason today has been a struggle. My Biodad has to have heart surgery next month and I can safely say that I’m nervous about that. I’m tired of going out of my way to be nice to people and receiving nothing in return. I’m tired of making excuses for people’s actions, but being forced to because I simply must an answer. I’m just sick of it all. However, through all of this, I’m learning what and who to appreciate more and how to deal with the crap that I don’t like, better.

I both love and hate these introspective days. At least I can count on my tea and a movie for some comfort, because apparently my head isn’t helping any.