ON BEING AN INTROVERT

Introverts are an interesting bunch, I tell you what. They super are.

This weekend Nathan and I tried to adventure into ULTA - a beauty supply shop - on Saturday. I feel as though this is something that a normal girl would be over the moon about! Yay! My man is buying me some makeup! The possibilities are endless!

But instead, I walked in trailing behind Nathan - immediately overwhelmed by the sheer volume of products. If you know anything about me, you know that a makeup guru I am not! I looked around at all the aisles and my mind went blank.

Why was I even there? What did I need? Who did I think I was, walking into that store knowing almost nothing about make up!?

You'd think, maybe, that since I am an artist I would be all about the makeups. However, as much as I would love to learn more about make up, it's really not something I'm super passionate about. I like to cover up my red spots and even out my skin tone, and I do like a good smokey eye - but when it comes to types of products and differing brands, I am at a total loss.

But these types of places offer consultations of sorts to try out different looks and products to see what you like and what looks good on your skin tone. This is a cool service, but somehow I don't know how to go about asking for it. I hate feeling like I'm imposing on someone, or being demanding. So, I freaked a little bit.

I didn't know what I was doing in that store. I felt so totally out of place and it made me feel ridiculously uncomfortable. I just wanted to leave, but I tried to look around anyway and see if there was anything that spoke to me.

After what felt like an eternity of aimlessly wandering around different aisles, (it was probably only maybe five to seven minutes) a saleslady with a fabulous purple shade of lipstick asked if I needed help with anything. She was very nice and asked me if I could help even to narrow down what I wanted, but I panicked. I couldn't think of anything. I didn't have a game plan, I didn't know what I wanted, and I really just wished I could turn invisible or bolt out of the store.

But instead I just whined that I really had no idea what I was even doing there like a child. It was definitely not one of my finer moments. These are the things that happen when I go out in public unprepared to deal with people. Or, more realistically, having dealt with too many people that weekend already and I was just all peopled out.

I mean, normally I handle myself pretty darn well in public. So well that sometimes people say things like "you're an introvert? really?" As if introverts aren't allowed to have well developed social skills or like being around people.

I can do people. I can do crowds. They're not my favorite and I can't do them for long periods of time, but I can be in public and not be the weird girl in the corner. I promise, introverts can be people persons too. But it only lasts for so long.

But back to my story. The purple lipstick clad saleslady took my attitude like a champ. She gave me her card and said that when I was ready, I could give her a call and we would play.

And then I went and sat in the car with Nathan for a while before regaining my composure enough to go into more stores before ultimately heading home and staying in my apartment the rest of the day to avoid any more people, like a true introvert. 

ON BEING AN ADULT

I was in the shower the other morning and having incredibly deep and philosophical thoughts, like you do, and I was thinking about adulthood.

Adulthood and I have had a very interesting relationship. I used to think being an adult was the dumbest thing I'd ever done. And slowly I adjusted to thinking that maybe being an adult wasn't actually that dumb after all...and then I lost my job and went right back to thinking being an adult is completely stupid.

But you know what? It's not really. I got a new job. I was able to pay my bills. I didn't end up living in an old refrigerator box in the back alley of somewhere, as is my worst fear, and life kept going. Life didn't suddenly stop and turn completely on its head like I'd always imagined it would if something catastrophic happened to me.

It's a weird thing about life, how it just keeps marching forward. I know that when I was little I knew this, but I didn't really comprehend it until I was much, much older. I used to think if something went wrong that that was just the end of it. That there was no coming back from that, it was just over. You missed out. You lost. Time to head another direction. And really, that isn't the case. I'm so glad I know that now, but I'm still not sure why I didn't really grasp that then, you know?

Whatever.

So anyway, back to my shower thoughts. Because that's what we're here to talk about anyway, right? Right.

I was washing my hair underneath the steaming hot water in which I have to be surrounded by or else I somehow feel...cold. And as I lathered the suds into my scalp, it occurred to me that I am not really a real adult. Because occasionally I still feel like I'm just a little girl playing pretend at the adult thing. Sometimes I find myself in situations where people think I'm this grown woman, when really I feel like a six year old flailing around down inside me screaming "I'm too young for this!"

And you know what's crazy? I'm not a little six year old girl. I'm actually a pretty well adjusted adult...but then again, fake it until you make it, right? I wonder if I will ever feel like an actual adult and not like a little girl at a masquerade ball.

I'm sure that as time goes on, I'll feel like a more adultier adult, but I guess that just like all things in life, it just takes practice. And then I read Stephanie's blog post about being the one that actually makes your dreams happen and my mind exploded.

You see, even if I am just a little girl pretending to be an adult, I still get to do all the things I want to do. Talking to Nathan, our plans for the future seem crazy to me still. Like, am I really old enough to talk about buying a house? Am I really old enough to move across the country if I wanted to? Am I really old enough to get married and travel and do all of the things that Little Natalie dreamed for Big Natalie to accomplish?

And the craziest part is that I totally am. I am able to make these things happen. I just have to be willing to put in the work and file the papers and do whatever else it is I need to do to make things happen. I tend to let myself get overwhelmed, but if I just take it one step at a time, before I know it, when I look back at my life, all the things I want to do get done.

And that is what I love so much about being an adult. It's more than just making my own bedtime and prioritizing my budget so that I can pay rent. It's the fact that I get to make my own dreams come true. I am the master of my fate - in a manner of speaking.

Plus, to have a partner that has the same goals and plans for the future that I do, it just makes me more excited to keep going. So, yay for being an adult and things. Yay! Confetti! I can do whatever I want!

THE SPECTRUM

YOU GUYS!

You guys have been doing a thing and I really REALLY need you to stop doing the thing anymore. If I catch you doing the thing, then I'm going to smack you upside the head and give you a list of websites to check out and books to read.

If you're confused, let me clear a few things up for you, okay? Take a deep breath and get comfy, because here we go.

Introverts have a bad name and it hasn't stopped yet because people keep perpetuating the stereotype and no one has really put the real research out there, although plenty of people have tried. There is still this notion going around the introverted people are socially awkward, shy and antisocial. THIS IS AN UNTRUTH!

The real difference between introverts and extroverts is the way in which those people gain and release energy levels. Extroverts gain energy from people. They tend to feel more energized and pumped up after hanging out with their friends, going to a party, spending time in a crowd, etc. Whereas on the flip side of extroversion, introverts gain energy by spending time alone either watching a movie, reading a book, or completing a project, etc.

When extroverts are full of energy, spending time by themselves may be a nice reprieve. When introverts are full of energy, a night out with their friends might not be something they are dreading or loath to do. Ya feel me?

I keep seeing these articles about the "extroverted introvert" which just annoys me to no end. No person is a true introvert or extrovert based on the stereotypes of either being constantly inundated with new people or hating social interaction of any kind choosing to spend a majority of time with your nose in a book. And I'm SICK OF IT. I'm so tired of people perpetuating the stereotype that introverts can't be social creatures.

JUST STOP SPREADING THE INSANITY.

If you find that you feel more energized after you've spent a couple hours reading your book and you would like to go out and pub crawl Friday night with your friends doesn't mean that you're not introverted. It might even be shocking to learn that introverts even process a lot of social prowess and may even have a nice circle of friends instead of just one or two.

I know, your mind is blown, isn't it?

But seriously. Everyone falls on the spectrum of intro/extroversion and while some people are more on one side or the other doesn't mean that people don't also fall in the middle. There is such a thing as an ambivert, actually.

I'd like to challenge you to help change the dialogue surrounding introversion and extroversion. If we start changing the way we speak and write about it by realizing that it's a spectrum instead of a black and white issue then we can better understand our fellow humans.

Remember that it's not about how shy a person is. Shyness has nothing to do with introversion, it's merely a term for the fear of social judgement. Whether you gain or give energy by being around people or away from people is what gives you your introvertedness or extrovertedness.

Now go forth and turn the stereotype on its head!

IMPATIENCE

What even is blogging these days anyway? I mean, who even does that. Not me. Didn't you know? Because I am the worst at it apparently.

And you know what? I don't even have a good reason. Not a one. None. Nothing. Because I'm currently laid off while I wait for the photography season to pick back up and I have all the time in the world to write blog posts. Plus, I mean, with all this time I do lots of interesting things. Like watch stupid reality trash television like Dance Moms. Betcha never saw that one coming!

But in all seriousness, I have done some cool things. I mean, I've been watching a lot of Food Network shows, so I've really stepped up my game in the kitchen. I made lamb burgers with homemade tzaziki sauce and it was amazing. Recently, I've started using my croc pot as well to cook pork shoulders and it's been fantastic.

In addition to the trash TV and the food prep, I've been doing a lot of artwork as well. I've been creating all these custom mugs for my friends and family. (If you want one, email me!) And it would be great if I could turn it into a legitimate business, but that will take a lot of time to really take off enough to support me. I'm currently drawing up designs for mugs though, for local souvenir shops - just to get my name out there. Exciting!

I'm designing a new updated logo for the business my mom works for. It's been a lot of back and fourth and nothing is finalized yet, but we are getting close I think. I've spent a few hours working on the design and revitalizing the old one. Different shapes, different fonts, abbreviations or entire business names? It's really been a big journey. Actually, the experience is phenomenal and I would love to work with other businesses for logo designs, etc. This is the nerdy stuff I live for!

But if we're to take a break from my monotonous life update (that I know you are all SO THRILLED to be reading) I would have to tell you some other things and feelings I have about stuff.

Since I graduated from high school, it has been a lot of non-stop with classmates and friends getting engaged and married and popping out kiddos. And I've mostly (mostly!) been able to stomach it without too much constant jealousy of their impeccable diamond rings. Mostly. But recently I've found myself having to work harder and harder to stuff down the green monster.

It's not that I'm super stoked out of my mind for all my friends. Really, truly, honestly, I am beyond happy that their lives are going in that direction. It makes me believe in marriage and that people really do care about committing themselves to another person for the foreseeable future and beyond. In a culture that hates on marriage so much, to have my Facebook news feed constantly bombarded with so-and-so is engaged/married to so-and-so, it's really nice.

And on the other hand, my stomach sinks a little. I wish it was me. I wish it was me. When it really hit me hard was when one of my old students got engaged. That was the toughest one to get over. Because, why. Why? I have an amazing relationship with a phenomenal man who loves me an incredible amount. We have talked a lot about marriage and the future and our plans for life. We are a wonderful team and we balance each out very well.

So maybe that's what makes it so hard. The fact that I know it's coming but I don't know when. The fact that these girls (and guys!) don't have to wait any longer and I'm over here forced into continued patience. It stings a little, down deep in my soul, to see all those others flaunting their rings all over social media, while I'm still here bare handed.

It won't be forever. My time is coming. I know that. I'm just tired of waiting. So tired of waiting. And yet, I'll keep on waiting. As long as it takes. Impatience gets you nowhere and worrying does nothing to change a situation. But sometimes ya just gotta vent, amiright?

LOOKING BACK

Well happy November, nerds! I honestly thought I'd be able to squeeze one more post in October out before the change of months and then, boo. You know how it is.

So now for a horrible transitional paragraph, I went to Moscow for Halloween this year and it was a pretty rad ordeal. It's been entirely too long since I visited that dinky little town and it was almost exactly just how I remembered it.

Except now they have a Buffalo Wild Wings and a Panda Express.

But we ate at Sangria instead because the avocado rolls and sirloin empanadas! And they lived up to everything I remembered them to be plus a little bit extra. If you ever find yourself in Moscow, do yourself a favor and hit up Sangria. It's a little on the spendy side, but oh so deliciously worth it. And to finish, for dessert you'll want the sweet potato creme brûlée. Just trust me on this one.

After dinner we sported our costumes and posed for pictures before heading out with a group of friends to do a halloween pub crawl. It was windy and rainy and completely packed with college kids around every corner, standing room only thankyouverymuch.

And the costumes! So many costumes of every variety! From crappily completed homemades to extravagantly executed store bought creations, there were such an incredible display of creativity that it caused me to spend most of the night people watching. Which is to say that I had loads of fun.

But aside from all the Halloween shenanigans, I just really enjoy being back in Moscow. I don't know what it is about that town, but I crave it every now and then. It makes me wish I was back in school. It makes me wish I could just walk around the down town and hang out in the coffee shops and eat a bagel. It makes me want to walk through the mall and hit up the Ross Dress For Less and get some pretzel bites. It makes me want to drive to the campus and walk through the arboretum, where I used to spend so much time.

So much of my growing up happened in Moscow. So much of who I am today is because of my time in that town. I remember hating it at first. Loving the fact that I was on my own and at the same time dreading the alarm in the morning. I remember working through so many insecurities in that town. From boys, to feuds with friends, to my own body sensitivities. I worked through so many obstacles, faced so many tough times, and trudged on so often when all I wanted to do was run away.

And then, the longer I was there, the more it really grew on me. I made some deep connections to the people there, it's where Nathan and I started dating and fell in love, as cliche as that sounds. It's basically where I grew up and grew into my adult self.

There's still so much growing and learning yet to do, and still so much ground I have yet to cover. But I still like to fantasize about what it would be like to go back to school and move down to that stupid little town that will forever hold this little part of my soul that lived and loved and painted and drew in that space between high school and adulthood.

Now my home is a little apartment on 4th street by Costco and instead of going to school everyday I go to work. It's a nice little routine and a great little life with so much in store for the future. So, I guess all that to say this: Halloween is awesome and change is good.

Happy Halloweener, kids. I hope you had a blast.

DAYDREAMING

I have been daydreaming a lot lately about the town in which I attended college. I have been daydreaming also about being a student in that college that I went to just a few years ago. It feels odd to me, this idea of being "finished" with college. I mean, I'm not finished with college. Or at least, I don't want to be.

Oh, when I was there I wanted out. I wanted out so bad I could almost taste it. I was sick of papers and projects and deadlines and finals. I was ready to get out and on into the work force! I wanted to start my life already people! Shaking fists and things! And then, also, at the very same time, I wanted school to last forever. I always wanted a dedicated three hours of painting twice a week in my life. I craved the inspiration that a specific project would give me for my art classes. I loved the smell of the campus in the fall, with all it's crispy leaves and backpack clad students. I loved the way the snow made everything crisp and fresh in the wintertime. I thoroughly enjoyed sneaking into the bagel shop when I was supposed to be in my printmaking class and devouring a pepperoni pizza bagel and blended caramel latte. Those were the days, you guys. Those were the days.

I miss having a more open schedule. I miss being able to skip my morning class if I wanted to because I was up too late the night before. I miss the connections I had to other like-minded individuals in all my classes, sharing ideas and creating inspiration and hating the same classes.

Homework and projects and papers have become glorified in my brain. Like, it was maybe fun or something to do that, when I know that it actually made me crazy and there were plenty of times that I couldn't wait for the semester to be over so I could have some peace of mind and relax for a little while before the next round of classes started back up.

But isn't it funny how sometimes we romanticize about how things used to be. I'm sure someday I'll look back on my life now and miss the juice bar a little bit. I'll miss the craziness that goes on there. The mad grocery runs to Costco or a dash up the street for a box of bananas. The adrenaline rush that accompanies the filling of a large order while you have a billion people in line with more walking through the door in a constant state of chaos. The way that all the employees there are like this little juice bar family who cares about, loves, and looks out for all of it's members. I love my little juice bar. I love my little life I have here in this little niche. I love my town, especially in the summer.

It's almost as if Coeur d'Alene becomes a completely different place in the summer. There's so much to do outside. There are so many places to eat, hike, swim, and hang out in. I have all my favorite places. I have my cute little routine. I have created my life here in this town.

And maybe that's why I dream about changing it. This life is so good. So so so so so good. I mean, don't get me wrong. This place, in the summer time, feels like I'm constantly on vacation. But then my mind starts to wander. And I drift into wondering what it would be like to be back in college. Or to be in the design field. Or to work from home. Or to live in a completely different city. Or even country.

Idaho will always be home to me, I think. I've been here too long. It's too ingrained in who I am. And yet, I also am filled with a spirit of wanderlust. A spirit of change. A yearning for something new. But also for something familiar as well. Hence all the daydreaming about Moscow and college and art programs. I really do miss cute little Moscow. Especially Moscow in the fall.

You know, my birthday is coming up here in a month or so. I will be twenty five. TWENTY FIVE. I can't believe it. I've been blogging since I was 18 and these posts have covered a lot of my changes. My words have revealed different hopes, different dreams, different experiences, and different people. Boyfriends have come and gone. So have jobs. So have many different people.

I started out always wondering what it would be like when my life finally started. When I was twenty-blank, what job would I have then? Where would I live? Who would I love? And isn't it interesting how we can't really go back to our past-natalies and put a caring arm over her shoulder and say things like, everything is going to be alright! Just calm down and take a deep breath! But also, by going back and re-reading our past words, we can comfort our present-natalies and say things like, look how far you've come and hey! Everything is actually alright! High fives all around!

So guys, high fives all around. We've made it this far, anyway, and we have plenty of daydreaming left to do.

WELL HELLO THERE

i think it's been a good long time since we had ourselves a real down home update as to what i've been up to lately. i think i quit writing these play-by-play posts quite a while ago. i just sort of sat in front of the computer and went all "who the frick cares anyway what i ate for lunch? i sure don't." and that was sort of that.

which today, i ate four bites of nathan's san fransisco sourdough sandwich for lunch. so.

a couple of days ago i went and colored my hair purple. because why the hell not and things. i keep forgetting that my hair is not a normal color until the wind blows it in my face and i'm seeing purple streaks and then my heart gets all happy because hello! purple hair!

in more of natalie's favorite things, i bought myself some peonies at the store. lately peonies have been my very absolute favorite of the flowers. i don't know, guys. they're pretty. and pink. and i can't hold myself back. i blame summertime and my hair.

this summer though, is almost maybe completely different from any summer i've had in the past? no summer job. no ending of school or waiting to go back. it's weird and normal at the same time. i wish for all the world that i could take summers off, so i could lay by the beach in my swimsuit all day. but as an alternative, the juice bar is pretty good too.

it's nice to get off my shift in the early afternoon and have the rest of the day to live it up in the sunshine. plus, nathan bought us longboards that get here on friday and i just can't wait for that. this summer is turning out to be pretty rad. 2015 has been alright by me so far.

camping!

boating!

 beaching!

aaaaaaaand fin. happy june, bloggers.

THE STORY OF US

nathan and natalie circa 2012

Three years ago I was finishing up two summer courses at the University and I was in the beginning stages of packing up my apartment so I could move back north to start my student teaching. It honestly feels as if that was a lifetime ago. As if maybe I was even a completely different person. Three years sounds so long and so short all at the same time.

Three years ago I was palling around all over the place with Felisa and we were basically inseparable. We started inviting this Nathan kid to come hang out with us when we would go places and do things. Little by little it started to be just me and Nathan doing things. Felisa would have to work. Felisa was in Washington. Felisa had to be here or there or somewhere without us. And the more time it was just him and me the more I got this case of the feels for him.

I had been single for the last semester of my schooling, having broken up with Jordan in January. I had been doing a really good job of remaining that way as well. After all, come June 22nd I would be moving north anyway and who wants to be in a long distance relationship, am I right? But then, there was this boy and I just didn't know what to do about anything at all.

My best case scenario for Nathan and I was a short lived summer romance that would end once school had started back up for him and I threw myself into my student teaching. We would have the best intentions, but, inevitably, things would slowly drift apart and we would float off in our opposite directions neither one worse for the wear. My worst case scenario was that it would be a short lived summer romance where towards the end of it we would argue and fight and spew words of hate towards each other and never interact ever again. Not really that I pictured that one coming, given our dispositions and personalities, but stranger things have happened.

And by stranger things I mean the events that actually transpired. Because even in my wildest dreams I never anticipated the real world situations that would unfold as Nathan and I embarked on this journey together.

We were both so noncommittal in the beginning, so unwilling to call our relationship what it was. It was the other people that started referring to me as Nathan's girlfriend and he never corrected them or made any remarks about it, so we just kind of kept doing our thing. I would come back down for the weekend all summer long and then on into the school year. Each time I was a little less willing to leave him on Monday morning. Each time it tugged harder at my heart strings to say goodbye.

And then one January weekend I had to say goodbye in a way that I hadn't really anticipated except for that I had. One January weekend Nathan called our relationship off and I drove back north crying in my car because obviously this was meant to happen. We couldn't go on doing this song and dance forever. I kicked myself for even starting the relationship anyway because I just knew this was how it was going to end.

February came along and I made it through Valentine's Day without smashing anyone's teeth in and I had about convinced myself to finally pick up all the pieces, close the door, and move on forever. I had to remind myself that I couldn't live in the past forever. I couldn't keep dwelling on this failed relationship because I didn't want to mope and wallow for months and months the way I had done when PC and I broke up. But, to my surprise, Nathan didn't let me walk away and move on and forget all about it.

Instead he drove up from Moscow through a snowstorm to be with me and prove that this was really what he wanted. He stayed up for the weekend and we talked and we had fun and we remembered what it was like to be together and we just kind of decided to see where this was going to take us.

So now here we are, three years in. I had never pictured it in those very first days. I didn't believe we'd ever get here. But then, I also shouldn't be surprised that it happened because of just how well Nathan and I fit together. We make an incredible team.

He has strengths where I have weaknesses and I have strengths where he falls short. We are both weird in the comfortable silence we can share with each other. Neither one of us is afraid to be ourselves around the other. He lets me vent and cry and laugh and yell and be loud. He reminds me to calm down or be quiet. He keeps me moving, improving, reaching for goals. He pushes me to do the things I say I am going to do instead of letting me just be lazy on the couch in front of Netflix shows. But he also knows when to let me relax and be lazy on the couch in front of the Netflix shows.

The other day he was sitting on his office chair in front of his computer and he pulled me over onto his lap. At first I didn't want to. The chair wasn't big enough for the both of us. I have a bony butt. It would be uncomfortable for both of us. But he insisted. And I obliged.

At first it was uncomfortable. I was sliding off the chair, we both had to maneuver a little bit to get to a place where it worked for both of us. We played a game on the computer, he controlled the mouse and I pushed the buttons on the keyboard. Soon I forgot that I had been uncomfortable. Soon it wasn't as if we were two people, but instead like we had melded together. I don't know how weird that sounds, but just it was such a simple thing for me to have my back against his stomach, my head leaning against his chest, both focused on the task at hand. In that fleeting moment I realized that I have never been this comfortable around another human being before. It was as if I just belonged in that place, right next to him, perfectly filling the space between his arms. I never wanted to move from it.

I won't try to convince you that our relationship is perfect. And I'm not so high and mighty as to say that we never get on each other's nerves. Nathan and I have faced some pretty tough times as a couple and we've worked through some pretty big issues together in order to get to where we are today. But honestly, during these last three years I'm glad he was the one by my side ready to help me take on the world. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be with.

So cheers to the last three years and may there be many, many more to follow. I'm so glad you caught me, Nathan.

nathan and natalie circa the present

THAT FAILING FEELING

I used to be a teacher. In a high school. In a small town in north Idaho. And there were things I loved about that job and there were things I hated about that job. It wasn't perfect but it wasn't awful and now it doesn't matter.

I wasn't fired from my position. I didn't do anything crazy or irrational to make my administration go "hmm, maybe we shouldn't bring her back next year because of X." I wasn't fired or hated or anything ridiculous. It was all sort of very sad - my being let go. It was a budget cut and a "we like you but we're going with the teacher who has more experience" kind of deal.

And yet, it still leaves me feeling as though somehow I had failed. I reflect back on that job and I think to myself that I must have just been this giant let down because I wasn't good enough to keep my job in the face of a slimmer budget. I just realistically didn't have the years experience and knowledge to thrive in that situation and even though I know it's not the same as being fired from a job for poor performance, it still stings when I think about it.

So I try to go about my daily life and forget that it ever happened.

Which works for me, most of the time.

To be honest I have been dreading the day when I would have to look someone in the face who I used to work with at the high school and ask them which drink they would like and what our specials at the juice bar are. I know that I am so much more than a barista, but when faced with the girl asking to take your order, I felt like the stereotypical "would you like fries with that?" persona.

You guys, I still feel as though I have failed.

Failure is a big thing for me. It is a big motivator, a big fear, a big fat "to don't" on my list of life. And even though I was technically laid off instead of fired, it still feels like I was a big fat failure. I didn't go from teaching there to teaching here, but instead I went in a completely different direction. Most days I feel pretty good about it. I love my job. I love combining my sense of nutrition with my sense of artistry and I like flexing my manager muscles.

But from the outside, I can't help but notice that this looks like a giant step backwards.

So when one of the secretaries who worked in the school office of the high school where I used to teach walked in to my little juice bar, it was as if my worst nightmare had just come true. I looked at her and it was like I was staring my own failure directly in the face.

And then she asked me if I had graduated last year.

I laughed and brushed it off because I always get those stupid remarks. I'm almost 25 years old and people are constantly asking me what year of school I'm in or if I need to go study. But inside it stung on a level I've never felt before. Like, geez, did I really make that little of an impact? Shoot.

She didn't mean any harm by her comment. She was simply just trying to figure out why she recognized me, but it still really hurt my feelings. After she left and the juice bar was empty, I found myself trying to prep spinach bags through blurry vision.

You just never realize how truly deep the hurt stings you until someone who has no idea makes a comment without thinking.

But it caused me to really think about why it is that I am now shying away from teaching. And that sting of failure, that feeling of "you're too young to handle this and we need someone different because you're just not good enough," it hurts. And I think that's ultimately why I don't want to go back, and why I shy away from people who present me with teaching opportunities.

That school didn't believe in me, so why should I believe in me?

I know that's ludicrous and that that's the kind of thinking that will keep me from climbing the tallest mountain, but it's also a legitimate feeling. Teaching is hard. People just don't realize how hard of a job it is. How demanding it can be on your time. You have to be all-in or you're just not good enough. There's such a standard. And I was just so young and so inexperienced that it's no wonder they let me go.

And so, I think, maybe I will never go back to teaching because maybe I don't want that stress in my life. But I also am going to have to get over how that encounter with the secretary made me feel. I am more than just a juice bar manager. I am more than just "do you want fries with that?"

I may look like I'm only 18 years old, but if you really know me, then you'd see this wasn't a giant step backwards, it was just a side-step down this path of life. It doesn't look the same for all of us, and we all have different routes intended for our own selves.

I don't know if that lady looked at me and thought "wow, I can't believe it's come to this for her" but I know that it triggered some deep down feelings that I haven't processed all the way. I love my job. I love what I do at the juice bar. I like being in charge and having responsibility and being the constant in my regular customers' mornings.

I like that there are no teacher/parent meetings. I like that there are no lesson plans. I like that there isn't a group of teens invading my space everyday waiting to see what knowledge exudes from my being. But also, I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss it.

Being laid off still makes me feel like I have failed. I still feel like I let people down. Like I let myself down. It was everything I said I didn't want to do. I didn't want to teach for only one year and end up in the statistic of teachers who never make it past year one. And it's partially that feeling of failure that says "why do you even think you could try again? you suck" that holds me back.

Someday perhaps I will overcome that annoying little voice in my head. Someday maybe I will return to teaching on a regular basis - just probably not in a public school atmosphere.

If I'm being honest, my dream job is to just create art and work from home anyway. My dream job is not to be a teacher. But that doesn't mean it's any less fun to feel like you've failed. Maybe I'm just rationalizing. Maybe I'm just trying to wrap my head around feelings I don't understand, but if there's one thing I know to be true on this earth, it is that in life there are not necessarily "rights and wrongs" but more or less there are "lefts and rights" and it takes a lot of prayer and careful consideration to know whether or not you should go through this open door or that open window.

I always thought there was a set course for my life. That there was going to be one thing after another that I would end up doing. School was always that way for me, so I expected life to be that way also. But the most shocking thing for me to find out as an adult is that I get to make my own choices. I get to choose my own path. I get to live my own life and there's no one else out there who gets to call the shots.

So it's hard to deal with feelings of failure, but I do know that comparison is the thief of joy and if I keep comparing myself to others then I will always feel like I'm failing. And with that, I promised myself that I would just keep doing me. I am going to go down my own path of life and wherever that takes me, I know that it's just for me and not for anybody else.

BE A DO-ER

I was sitting on the couch after work one day when a restless feeling washed over me. I was a woman possessed, in need of something to do besides stare at moving pictures on screens. Life can somehow warp into this mindless repetitiveness where you feel as though you are doing the same things over and over, day after day, and suddenly I had had enough of it.

It's not as though my life is terribly mundane and it's not as though I never do any new things, but it was just feeling all sorts of one tracked and I needed an excuse to step out of the flow. So I got up off the couch and I boiled some water in a pot and I poured it into these old candles I had laying around telling myself for forever that one day I was going to clean them out.

And at that moment, something dawned on me.

Something that I should have realized a bit sooner in life and something that I'm mildly embarrassed to admit right now. But that would be the idea of "stop talking about doing it and just do it already."

Everyone always says things like "Oh, I really want to do that" or "Hey, this is on my bucket list! I should do this!" or "eventually I want to go to here and do this thing."

Well you know what? You're never gonna check things off your bucket list simply by saying that you want to do the thing on the list. You have to actually go do the thing. I tell you, it was the strangest of ah-ha moments because I kind of just wanted to smack myself on the head and go "well, duh Ralph."

So I did clean out those candles. And then I figured out how to peel the labels off so they are pretty glass jars now. And then I went and bought stuff to make sugar scrub to put in my nice clean candle jars as a gift.

And since then, I have been doing the things on my Pinterest boards instead of just letting them sit out there in the land of the internet waiting for that magical "someday" to appear on the horizon. Someday doesn't exist though. It's a thing that we've made up in our heads. I love the quote I've read a billion times in the way of fitness motivation that says "there are seven days in the week and someday isn't one of them." I mean, preach it sister.

Also, among my duh, Ralph epiphanies, is that when I am doing these things that I have been saying I will get around to doing for forever, there is this incredible sense of accomplishment that comes along with it. There is just something about being able to cross things off the list or put them in the "done" pile, or whatever your preferred method of organization be.

I've found that I am happier for having accomplished making/creating things instead of accomplishing finishing all the series of TV shows in my Netflix queue. In addition to my jars, I designed a pair of kick ass shoes for my roommate as well as the new spring coffee menu at work, made cold-brewed coffee, and tried some new recipes.

If my goal is to live a joy-filled year, this is definitely the direction I want to keep pursuing. I want to be a do-er instead of a say-er.

WAKE UP SLOW

 (running on Tubbs Hill last night)

I sit on my yellow stool at work sometimes and dream up wonderful things to write about on my blog. Often times it's a deep revelation I've had about something on which I am totally considered to be an expert, and sometimes it's just a flitting thought that goes something like "oh hey, I should blog about that."

And then I come home and I open up my computer and Facebook sucks my time away and I forget that I was even going to write anything at all and then before I know it, it's nine o'clock in the evening and I have to go to bed. Because getting up early in the morning for work puts a real damper on my late nights these days.

But today I felt like writing instead of binging on Netflix. So here I am.

I just read a book by Gary Chapman called "Things I wish I'd known before we got married." And it is a fantastic book whether you are single, dating, or in a committed relationship. It talks about all sorts of things and one of the things it talks about is morning people vs night people.

And dudes, I am so not a morning people. Getting out of bed bright eyed and bushy tailed is never something I have really been able to do consistently. I mean, let's be real, there are certain exceptions where I'm tooooooo excited tooooo sleeeeeep and so morning comes and brings along with it a sense of impending adventure. But when it is just work for which I am awoken at the inhuman hour of six o'clock in the morning, I am loathe to get out from underneath my nice warm covers.

I know there are things I can do in my daily routine in order to force myself to become a morning person, but I just do not want to do those things. Instead of trying hard to change my body, I would rather just change my work schedule. Right.

One of the things Chapman says in his book though, is that morning people will never be night people and night people will never be morning people. And so I was thinking about that this morning on my drive to work as I tried to force my brain to begin to function. I kind of like that about myself, that I am not a morning person.

Because I didn't choose to be that or not to be that, I just am that. And I think it's kind of important to take the things that you just are and own them. Obviously not everything is something to keep around, like say, if you are quick to anger you maybe want to work on that. But as far as morning people vs night people goes - I say you are what you are and why force yourself to change it?

Morning people will never be night people in much the same way that introverts will never be extroverts. I find that I am most functional after nine o'clock in morning, just as I find I am most functional when I have had some time to myself before I am expected to positively interact with other people.

So what if I am not a Wake-Up-And-Sieze-The-Day kind of girl. I am actually more of a Wake-Up-And-Go-Slowly-And-Try-Not-To-Think-Too-Hard-Until-Coffee kind of a girl. And I like it that way.

Waking up too early, maybe we could sleep in. Make you banana pancakes, pretend like it's the weekend now. We could pretend it all the time, yeah. Can't you see that it's just raining, ain't no need to go outside. Ain't no need, ain't no need. Rain all day and I really, really, really don't mind. Can't you see, can't you see? You gotta wake up slow. 

HEY NATALIE JEAN

I just got Hey Natalie Jean in the mail today. I went out for lunch with Nathan and when we returned to the apartment there it was, in a little brown cardboard amazon box sitting on my porch. I unlocked the door and immediately ripped open the package, too full of excitement to think about anything else. And then, Natalie and Huck were right in front of my face, in all their grey hard covered glory.

You see, in 2008 my aunt got a little bit into blogging. As a self proclaimed writer, I had to check it out for myself and haven't really stopped since. Back in those days I was big into checking out the Blogs of Note, secretly crossing my fingers that someday my little blog would be among them.

One day, and I'm not quite exactly sure when it was, I clicked through different blogs of note and stumbled by accident upon a one Nat The Fat Rat (which just goes to show how long I've been reading her blog). It was a picture of Natalie standing next to the giant sign that says "Welcome To Moscow" and my insides got all excited since hey! that's where I live too! So I clicked on her links and read her posts for probably a stupidly long amount of time and I fell completely in love with her.

She was hopelessly optimistic and I absolutely adored the way that she would find meaning in the mundane. It drew me into her world, all the silliness that she was creating by just writing her honest little thoughts about stuff and things.

If you've never been to the little town of Moscow, Idaho, then you have no idea what a different world it is down there. There is a chapter in Natalie's book where she writes about her own private Idaho. Having lived in Moscow for four years, I can say that she put my feelings into words better than I could have dreamt. That little town in all its boringness is also quite beautiful in a really dumb way and sometimes I miss living there more than I care to admit.

Now Natalie inhabits a little apartment in the big New York City and just, hello. Nathan talks sometimes about moving to NYC and I can't help but think of her every time he brings it up. I feel like maybe sometimes I am just two or three steps behind her. Or maybe four or five, but who's counting?

Anyway, this book you guys! In the short amount of time I've had it in my little hands I have read well over the half way mark. She is funny and serious and incredibly relatable. And while I'm not big on the fashion part of Natalie's world, all the other stuff is just so exactly on point with how I feel about a lot of life or have felt in the past. It's vaguely like reading my own words and not unlike finding out that wait a minute here, maybe I am normal after all because other people have large feelings about small stuff and big things as well.

And in the words of Natalie herself, this book is exactly the ham sandwich I was looking for. Who needs a rueben anyway?

CYBER SPACE TIME TRAVEL

I recently downloaded the Timehop app on my iPhone and it has been bringing me lots of laughter these days. This time travel thing has reminded me of just how darn funny I used to be - and possibly still am.

Like today, for instance, 3 years ago I posted the status "If you can't make money, make out with somebody" and I kind of scrunched up my brows and wondered what the heck I had been talking about. So I took to the googles and typed in my status.

Turns out, it's lyrics to a song. David Bradley, more specifically.

 

Three years ago on January 12th I apparently posted "I plan on staying in bed and dying today." Which just, if you know me, I was channeling my inner Lilo that day and avoiding my college classes and any semblance of responsibility because three years ago I could pull that kind of crap.

Lately, because it's January and February, my timehops have consisted of my really obnoxious break up with Matt statuses and holy buckets you guys, I just want to apologize all over again for that. I was...I don't even know how to put it... Pathetic, maybe?

And I literally posted almost every single thought I had onto Facebook - did I have no boundaries? How even did I retain my friends because good golly I was just dragging it oooouuuuutttttttt. So, thanks for not getting sick of me and never speaking to me again.

I have been thinking about that time in my life though. For the obvious reasons and the not so obvious. You see, when I first had a Facebook, I was also still in my myspace phase as well. I was just fresh out of high school and there weren't really any rules for the internet yet. At least not in my world. So I used my Facebook page as an online mini diary to supplement all my lamenting on my blog about this terrible, horrible, no good thing I was going through. I never realized at the time that those things would live on forever inside the bowels of the interwebz.

Now, I look at people who still post every little thing that pops in their head or post every picture they take on the cell phone and I think, why? Why are you doing this? Why do we feel compelled to share every aspect of our lives with people we really don't hardly know?

And maybe I'm hypocritical because here I am, posting a blog essay and sending it off into the world wide web where people I may or may not know can read my own personal thoughts. But hey, these days I am more careful about exactly what I'm putting out there.

I mean, I could write about all the things I've done lately and how work went and what sorts of things I ate today, which actually would just be coming full circle to when I started writing and was still trying to figure out my voice and just exactly what I was going to do in this little internet corner.

But you know what, there's also something stupidly beautiful about seeing the sort of annoying things I used to put into cyber space because it reminds me that I used to be this little naive person who still believed in all the good in the world and had a lot of growing to do.

It reminds me that I've come such a long way, and I've overcome so many obstacles.

And even though those days were hard to live through, I came out on the other side stronger and with a clearer vision of what I wanted out of life and how I was going to do it.

So maybe I was crazy and a little pathetic and incredibly naive, but I was also displaying my very human emotions and learning how to be the girl that I was created to be. Am I glad I posted all those obnoxious statuses to Facebook all those years ago? Not necessarily. But I'm also not really mad about it, so there's that.

HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY

I remember so many Januaries that were full of despair for me. So many Januaries where I would struggle to get up out of bed on put on my real clothes and buck up and act happy, trying to convince myself that everything was actually going to be alright. So many posts I wrote in an effort to say that "this is going to be my year!" and "let's make this the best year yet!" all while knowing that it was tough. It was going to be tough. And my heart wanted those years really to be good, but it was really just an uphill struggle. Blood, sweat, tears.

Januaries are a symbol to me of starting over. Not because it is necessarily the beginning of a new year, but because my big life-altering events (read: breakups, etc) have all happened in January. And last year, 2014, I was nervous all month. I was just waiting for that break-up speech to come out of Nathan's mouth. Not because I believed he was going to break up with me, but simply just because of all my past Januaries. But that break-up speech rightfully never came and with the onset of February, I relaxed a little.

This January is not filled with despair or anxiety this year, but instead with joy and hope. Real hope and real joy.

Christmas eve I spent at church with my family. Our pastor spoke on the difference between happiness and joy. Happiness, he said, was based on circumstance. It was situational and very, very temporary. And I had this sort of realization inside my head about just exactly how right he was about it.

Happiness is extremely temporary, and yet we say it all the time. "All I want in life is just to be happy." And "all I want for my children is for them to be happy." And why is it that we only strive for happiness? Happiness will go away when things change. It doesn't fill you up. It doesn't sustain you. You can't live in a constant state of happy because you always have to go "back to reality."

So I made a resolution right then and there that I was going to make a conscious choice not to be happy. I was going to be joyful. My tattoo on my shoulder is about having joy in every situation. Joy is not temporary and it doesn't go away with circumstantial changes. In even the darkest of moments, we can be joyful and hopeful because we know that we are not going to stay in our darkest moments forever. And then, when we are experiencing those good and wonderful and happy moments, we can have real joy there as well.

It was my goal last year to have an authentic year. To live my life with an air of authenticity and to be who I truly was created to be. This year, it is my goal to have a joy-filled year.

I did the 100 days of happy challenge as a reminder to myself to see the good parts of my life in everything that I did. Because I believe that if you start focusing on the positive things in your life, then you will begin to really notice just how good your life actually is. Positive thoughts beget a positive life.

And so, this is the beginning of my 365 days of joy.

OPEN UP

There was a point in my life where I was speaking with a counselor about my life and things I was going through and how I needed to change some of my thinking in order to be a better, more well-adjusted adult. It was actually a really good thing for me to go through and I would recommend seeing a counselor to anyone.

One of the things I discovered about myself during those weeks was that I am a person who tends to hold my emotions hostage inside my body. I keep them bottled up pretty well, for reasons I don't really fully understand. Something to do with my introversion, I suppose? 

So I clicked on this article 15 Struggles People Who Bottle Up Their Feelings Understand and while some of them are a little dramatic for me, I really related to quite a number the things listed. Number five, specifically, jumped right out at me. Because yes, I use the silent treatment like it's going out of style when I am really upset by something. And I think the reason I do this is not to be childish, but to refrain from saying something that I will possibly later regret and also to make a point that hello, I'm super mad at you right now. 

I don't know what makes not talking my go-to for letting someone onto the fact that they have displeased me, but I have done it ever since I was little. Just ask my parents. 

And then let's talk about number 11 for a second because, hold on, that is exactly what goes on inside my brain all the time. I will definitely give you my opinions and thoughts about stuff and things but then if you ask me how I feel about something, all my words suddenly jam in my throat and refuse to come out. 

Holy buckets, how did these article writers know that about me? Get out of my head already. 

I've noticed that I get panicky when someone asks me to explain how I feel. It doesn't matter whether I feel good or bad about something, just having to explain myself is terrifying. It kind of feels like I'm wrong and whatever I say the asker of the question is going to be opposite of me and make me feel inferior for not feeling the same way they do. 

I know this is ludicrous and I am allowed to feel ways about things, but expressing those feelings is just not easy for me to do. And believe me, I am working on this. I know the importance of being vulnerable - especially to someone whom you love - and if effort is applied then progress is going to be made. It just takes time to fight against what comes natural to my personality. 

The other day we figured out Nathan's Meyers Briggs personality (he is an INTJ and I am an ISFJ).  Which got me thinking about personalities in general because there are so many different types. (What even is it like to be an extrovert? Add this to the list of things I will never understand.) I was reading articles on introversion and all that jazz because sometimes I get a little obsessive, and I started noticing things. 

People generally think that introverts are shy - but shyness is fear of social judgement and even extroverts can be shy. It costs an introvert energy in order to interact with people. This isn't a bad thing, it's just the way we're wired. And sometimes I get a tight feeling in my chest when I hear people call my name or see them walk through the door at work because it means that I have to give up some of my energy in order to talk with them. Some people cost more energy than others and making small talk costs the most from my energy resources. Please don't make me have small talk with you, I am not good at it and it stresses me out. But I digress. What I mean to say is that introverts are not necessarily shy. So stop using that term interchangeably with introversion. They are not the same. 

I also noticed that people tend to think that introverts can't be social. Which is also another falsehood. I don't mind being around people. Large crowds may be intimidating, but I can still function and in fact, am capable of even enjoying myself out in public. Just because I need to go home a little early to recharge my batteries doesn't mean that I necessarily had a bad time at your party. And sometimes going out on the town with my friends is more enjoyable than reading a book. gasp! But that doesn't make me any less of an introvert. 

The world needs introverts and extroverts. One is not better than the other. So let's quit perpetuating the ridiculous belief that everyone needs to be extroverted all of the time. And also, let's all maybe work on not keeping our feelings all bottled inside of us. Restore some balance, and the like. 

THE JOURNEY

Growing up I always thought there was a right way and a wrong way to do life. And I was always terrified that I was going to be that person who did all the things wrong and ended up in an ally somewhere living in a cardboard box. If you ask me what my biggest fear in life is, I will tell you one word: failure.

To me that meant losing my job, my ability to provide for myself and ending up homeless and smelly and wearing someone else's donated clothing. This image of my future life, had I picked all the wrong things, started when I was in elementary school.

We live our whole young lives preparing ourselves for adulthood. I believed it was my duty to go through school, graduate, continue on to college, graduate, get a job, get married and live happily ever after. I honestly had never planned on what to do after I was married other than be fabulously rich and travel the world, which, obviously, is still going to happen. ;)

But on a serious note, I have been learning and relearning that the world does not work in rights and wrongs like my brain initially thought. And when I lost my teaching position last year it rocked me down to my core. I had to learn to shake the feelings of failure and convince myself that this was not the end of the line and that I was not going to end up in a dirty refrigerator box somewhere.

If I'm being honest though, that was a change for me that I had never planned to go through. I mourned my lost position and cried myself to sleep, scared and wondering what I was going to do with myself once my contract was up and I was no longer getting paid a teacher's salary. As low as a teacher's salary might be in this state, it was still more money than I'd ever made in my life.

Plus, I have bills to pay and an apartment to care for and it was all piling on the pressure so fast. Sometimes if I sat and thought about what was happening to me, my chest would get all tight and I wouldn't be able to breathe. So I did what I knew I had to do.

I went back to the restaurant where I worked last year and finished out this summer doing the same thing I did back then - managing nights. And then when the summer ended I just stayed on staff because at least it was income and the atmosphere and the people are great. It is truly a good place to work.

And then I got all this art stuff and chalkboard things to help out on the side.

I was all sorts of certain that I was going to fail. That this was a step backwards for me and that this was somehow "wrong." But if I've learned anything, it's that life never does what you want it to. Just because I'm not teaching this year doesn't mean that unemployment and back ally living are in my future. I'm smart and resourceful and something is always provided to allow me to take care of myself and to pay for the things I need to pay for.

It's in the realm of authenticity too, these life lessons that keep showing up. I feel like I am maybe more myself than I have been when I was trying to convince myself that I was a teacher. I am much better at being an artist and creating the things people look at than I felt I was at conveying to other people how to produce a great work of art. Partly because I am maybe still figuring that out myself.

To go from school straight into a career I felt like I was skipping a step. I have always been a step skipper, if we're being honest. If I can smash two steps together, I probably will. So part of me was proud of myself for going right into the career path and part of me was kind of exhausted and I've been telling myself since my sophomore year of college that I just wanted to take a year to not be in school. To not have homework. To not have to worry about being in the school system.

But then life happens, and job opportunities come up and it would be stupid not to take a full time salaried position that is standing right in front of you, so I kind of went against myself and took the job anyway. And what I've realized in the past couple of months is that maybe losing that job was actually good for me.

It has forced me to bend in ways that I didn't think I could. This path has started to show me what I'm really made of and it's begged me to at least start to question what I really want to do with my life. I've known from the beginning that I wanted to be an artist - but I also knew that I never wanted to end up like van Gogh, or become that typical starving artist. So I never truly believed that art could take me where I actually wanted to go - which is all around the world, if you remember. And yet, here I am, working in a restaurant (stereotypical job liberal arts majors end up doing!) but still creating and sometimes getting paid for it.

The more art jobs I do the more I am realizing that that is where my heart is. It's where my passion lies. I feel the most at home when I am creating something with my hands. It allows me to think in ways that I don't get to when I'm doing something else. Now, if I could only get paid for blogging as well. HA!

I haven't been 24 for very long, but it already feels like it's going to be a year about shedding my layers. It's going to be a year about doing the things I want to do because I want to do them and not because I feel obligated to do what everyone else is telling me, or at least what I perceive everyone else is telling me to do.

I have always wondered how old you have to be before you're really an adult. Sometimes I still feel a little like a child, striving for approval from other people and unable to make my own decisions. But you know what? The only approval I need is my own, really, and I am more than capable of making my own decisions. It is a process, to learn to live unapologetically and out loud, but it will be beyond worth it.

This is the journey to becoming myself and every day brings me one step closer.

ENJOYING THE RIDE

My dad started his own business when I was nine years old. It was called Northwest Testing Company and since its humble beginnings in a small shop in North Idaho it has since expanded (along with a name change) to five locations (I think it's five?) and a welding school. 

Being the daughter of a business owner I was exposed to the frustrations of handling rogue employees, dealing with clients who were not-so-nice and sorting out scheduling conflicts among a myriad of other situations that come with owning a business. And I remember telling my dad that I never wanted to own my own business because I didn't want to have to deal with all of that responsibility. 

I am a person who likes to have as little responsibility as possible, if we're being honest. I am so not a typical first born child in that respect. I would much rather have someone else be in charge, but let me be second in command or something. I mean, I do like to be bossy sometimes. 

And yet here I am, eating the words of nine year old Natalie and contemplating starting my own business. But unlike my father's LLC, this is just for me. Me and my artwork. 

I was contacted by an old family friend to do some commercial art for a local business. I happily accepted the position as a way to get paid for art and also to get my name out there as a local artist. I mean, breaking into the art world is not as easy as you might think, so I practically jumped at the chance to get to work with The Wellness Bar. Since then, I have taught a class there, worked on the coffee menu (which will be finished sometime this week) and contacted the owner of a nail salon to do some chalkboard art for her. 

Walking into her shop today, she gave me her business card and since I am lame and without my own little info cards, I had to have her write down my name and number on some yellow pad paper. Suuuuuuuper professional. And then I went home and called my mom about getting some business cards and maybe it would be a good idea for me to keep track of what all these people are paying me for my talents. 

This is starting to sound like a business. I'm starting to do something I said I didn't want to do. This is a crazy world we live in, folks. And I think the even crazier part is that I'm actually excited about it. If this could turn into something bigger, it would make working at the restaurant supplemental income instead of the other way around. 

In college, even though I majored in art education, being a teacher was the part I tacked on so that I could pay the bills. I went through the college of art and architecture instead of the college of education so that I could be an artist who teaches, not a teacher of art. And while I do love teaching, I am definitely more artist than teacher. 

So it kind of hurts me in the world of education that I'm only certified in art because it makes me less marketable than some places would like. But in the world of art, it's a fantastic thing because I don't just do one type of art, I have worked with many different mediums and in many different styles so where in one world I'm singular, in the other I am versatile. 

At 23 I was a full time teacher, which is crazy. I mean, I was in charge of and responsible for the artistic education of high school students. This year, at 24, I am a restaurant hostess and manager who freelances artwork on the side. It's crazy how fast life can change and it's also crazy that life never goes exactly how you think it will. You just have to hang on and learn to enjoy the ride. 

And just so you can fully appreciate my experience as a nine year old entrepreneur's daughter, here I am slaving away for free. 

Okay, so it was actually for a science project in fourth grade, whatever whatever. 

Also, a close up of the first image. Please to appreciate our 90s fashions and the fact that I am still the tallest of all of my siblings, which is no longer the case since they've all passed me up. 

THE SUMMER OF MY MOUTH + A REALLY DUMB VIDEO

This has been the summer of my mouth. The summer I turned ten was the summer of camping because we went every weekend. The first summer Nathan and I were dating was the summer of Moscow because I spent all my time there. But this year, summer has been all about the inside of my mouth. Specifically my tooth number ten.

When I was little and my mouth was still growing, I lost my baby tooth number ten and then eventually the one behind it. And when my adult teeth grew in, the one behind my number ten absolved almost all of the root that was holding Number Ten inside my mouth and shoved it out of the way.

When I was 13 I got braces to correct my smile line and we brought the unrooted number ten back to its rightful place in line with my other pearly whites. My orthodontist said at the time that I'd eventually have to have a false tooth put in Ten's place once I was older but that we needed to keep my real tooth in my mouth as long as we could.

We held Ten in my mouth with a wired permanent retainer which was its own barrel of fun for ten years. I couldn't eat corn on the cob or apples whole. I wasn't supposed to eat ribs off the bone, you know, all the fun foods. And I mostly obeyed those laws most of the time.

Recently I'd noticed my little number ten had become more mobile and also that he (she?) would complain if I ate or drank something too hot or too cold. And I knew it was time to evict my poor little rootless Ten.

I had a consultation with an oral surgeon a month ago and he partnered with my dentist to get me all set up. I had X-rays and scans done and I got four cavities filled before I actually had the implant surgery the morning of Tuesday, August 19th.

That was the last day that Ten and I were together.

They sent me home with a pink silicone bandage around my gum where my tooth had been. And then Nathan bought me a huckleberry milkshake and made sure I was still breathing while I slept for something like five hours on the couch after I got home. And then I drunk dialed Joel which I only vaguely remember doing.

The dentist hooked me up with a flipper (a retainer with a false tooth on it) while we are waiting for my implant post to heal. In four months I can have a crown put in and then my smile will be fixed for good.

It sounds so silly, but until I got the flipper fixed I felt like I was probably the epitome of ugly. I had left over fever blister dry skin patch by the corner of my mouth, a couple stress induced pimples on my chin, and I was missing a tooth. To me, I looked like a hillbilly. To everyone else, apparently, I just looked like a six year old who's body was just too big. Think of it kind of like the movie Jack with Robin Williams.

I still feel a little weird with the flipper. It's difficult to eat with it in and when I talk I sound as if I'm hearing impaired. Several customers last night at work made sure to look directly at me and enunciate all of their words clearly while speaking to me. I joked that I should sign when I'm talking and just really sell it.

In order to further illustrate how my enunciation has changed, I just spent the last hour and half trying to film a stupid little video for you guys. It probably took me 100 takes and I still think I ramble too much and honestly, I'm not sure if I say anything really important but whatever. I also changed my outfit three times before I settled on this final video that I'm still not sure I'm happy with. But at least you get to hear me talk, so that's something?

Videos are dumb, but enjoy it anyway ;)

WAITING

All my life I have been waiting for the next big thing. I have heard from numerous people that waiting for saturday, or summer, or next year so my life will actually start is the wrong way to go about it, because, hello, life has already started. I'm already living it. And you know what? I always knew they were right, but I still kept waiting.

This year my word of focus has been "authentic" and when I chose that word, I wasn't quite sure what was going to happen. I sort of knew what direction I wanted to take with that, but at the same time I wasn't sure how "authenticity" was going to present itself.

I believe that being present in your moments is the best thing you can do for yourself - and yet I would still find myself waiting for something to change in order for me to be who I am. When I was a child I kept waiting to be an adult. When I was in college I kept waiting for next year, or for graduation, or for my new job to start. I kept wondering when I was actually just going to be myself and be living my life. I kept focusing on the next and not the now, and what I realized is that it makes it hard to be present in my moments. It makes it hard for me to be myself.

Last summer I had a brief epiphany while standing in the Albertson's building on the University of Idaho campus, which apparently I worded all wrong and made my dad think I was going to quit trying to be a teacher and move back to Moscow for school which wasn't really my intention at all.

And then, this year I lost my position as an art teacher due to budget cuts and there I was, feeling a little directionless and also, waiting. I was having a total identity crisis - like, who even do I think I am, if I'm not a teacher?

I'm not sure when it started to click for me, but I'm beginning to see that THIS IS MY LIFE. You guys, I'm already here. I'm already in it. I don't know how to say in more words that this is it. And I'm not upset about it. I'll find more employment. I'll continue to grow as a person, in my faith, in my relationships.

I work as a night manager at a restaurant and I do odd art jobs for people and businesses. Speaking of which, telling people that yes, I'm the artist, will probably never not be weird. And at the same time, I absolutely love it. Yes, I am the artist. I feel the most at home when I am creating something.

So, I think that authenticity word is actually coming to fruition this year. I am living more in my moments - while still maintaining a healthy dose of concern for the future. I used to live only for the weekends, but now I think it's okay that it's Monday or Tuesday. Does that make any sense?

Maybe this has something to do with the fact that it's also summer time and that helps. It's weird to not be starting to gear up for the fall, no classes to take or to teach. It's just like, here is life. Go and live it.

And that's exactly what I'm going to do.

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I worked as an artist for a local business this past weekend. I've never done a commercial piece of art before but I have to tell you, after this experience, I definitely want to do more. So, from start to finish this was probably a good 20 hours worth of work and at the end of it my arms and upper torso were so sore and the tips of my fingers had indents in them from holding the chalk - but it was totally worth it.

concept sketch using chalk pastel on paper 

 concept sketches of sizes and colors. 

the finished product! (the in-between photos are still on my phone and i'm too lazy to pull them off)

(hashtag sorry not sorry)

and now, detail shots!

i'm particularly proud of this beet.