To everyone who made it special. I had admittedly been nervous about my birthday, thinking that no birthday could top my 30th in the level of love and happiness i felt, especially after the year i had. But i was proven wrong. From the birthday love and wishes on facebook, to the wonderful card from my coworkers, to the odd night full of smiles.. To everyone who showed up and reminded me that i am seen, you have filled this wounded heart with so much love. Thank you all.


I’ve started going to movies by myself. My taste in movies doesn’t always align with my peers. Case and point, every solo movie I attend, I find myself hunkered down in my seat, surrounded by grey haired viewers.
Tonight, I park on the otherside of the market square, bypassing the friday night festivities as I walk. Hispanic music coming from some corner. The theater is expensive, small, and surprisingly crowded. I buy a strong beer and find a seat to the side. This is my favorite experience, surrounded by a respectful crowd, sipping cold beer, and watching a film that is simply a story. 
And when the first name appears as the credits roll, the room is filled with soft music, and we all just take a breath. No one claps, no one gets up, we all just sit for a minute to absorb. This is my favorite experience, when someone tells you an story about life, no explosions, no special effects, just acting, and writing, and in the end, your heart’s responds..
When I step out of the theater it is full dark, and thru the hispanic music I can still year the crickets chirping. The air is warm and I quickly walk thru the night stalls, smiling politely at the vendors who call me Pretty and try to sell me things. The alley ways are dark and I pick up my pace as I cross the square to my car, hopeful to avoid attention.
I see my car in the distance, not the strong beast of my last jeep, but still my chariot back to my life. Away from the music, and the dancing, and the few hours I allow myself reprieve from my own life. I head back home.

I am who I am

This last year has been bad, the worst. I entered my third decade of life and I’ve hated every minute of it. I have never been faced with so many challenges to my life and personal identity. I’ve never questioned my own self so much, and felt as though I’d lost so much along the way. I’m 30 and I feel like I don’t know who I am or what I’m doing. I’m 30 and I’ve never felt so lonely. But the truth in my heart, is I am who I am. Long ago I came to terms with the fact that I’m not cookie cutter. I do things my own way. And that not everybody is going to accept that, and that’s okay. I’ve spent so much time and energy trying to make others happy, that I’m not happy myself. And I’ve let people make me feel ashamed of myself. March to the beat of my own drum? The truth is, I don’t hear a drum. I bask in the sound of my own silence. And I like it. And I’m going to be okay. I’m going to have more bad years, and I’m going to have great years. In two days, my year from hell will be over, and I survived it. Today, while waiting for my coffee, late in the morning, the woman behind the counter looked at me, and told me she was proud of me. And that was all I needed. In two days, I’m going to turn 31, and I’m going to have the best year..


“Be it the Beast from the East, Raging Bull, the Count of Monte Fisto, an Italian Stallion, The Bonecrusher, The Executioner, The Body Snatcher, The Greatest, the Cincinnati Flash, the Dogtown Dynamo or Nonpareil,… it just don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing (sorry about that, Floyd). Knock this back with a friend. Cheers!”
Looks like I shoulda read the fine print before cracking this one solo…