25

In about three months, I will be turning 25. So this is the first of probably many posts about my impending old age.

Being 25 scares me. It's one of those ages that, well, ages you. By 25, it's pretty obvious you're out of college. You should no longer be staying up all night partying, procrastinating, and pretty much making a fool out of yourself--all things that are perfectly acceptable while living in a dorm room. Or an apartment with seven other girls. 

25 means you have a job, wear uncomfortable shoes, and eat whole grain cereal. It means grocery shopping in a store (instead of in your parents' cupboards), buying toilet paper (instead of stealing loose rolls from public bathrooms and hiding them in your purse), and having a wardrobe full of "business professional" garments (sniff, I miss wearing sweatpants and Northwestern t-shirts every day).

One third of my life has already happened. One of these days I will blink and wake up thirty (okay, breathe...still another five years). Of course, part of the reason I'm so terrified of this milestone age is this: 25 was always my personal deadline for the major things I wanted to accomplish in the early stage of my adult life. I was going to have a book written. I was going to be writing for a major publication. I was going to be a fun aunt. I was going to have my life together with a perpetually clean house and home cooked meals. I was going to have a garden full of beautiful flowers and delicious vegetables. I was going to be thin and in shape. I was going to run 5ks every weekend. I was going to own a golden retriever named Trixie. I was going to have traveled, studied abroad, and learned photography. I was going to be a mom.

But life happens; things happen. Other things, better things. Things I am proud to have accomplished in 25 years. 

But that's another post for another day. 

The Holidays

This time of year makes me very happy. I love the string of holidays of Halloween-Thanksgiving-Christmas-New Years and how much celebration can take place. It's a time ripe with parties, because no one can pass up a season gathering--"Hey, you want to come over for a harvest party?" "We're throwing a Christmas party this week, want to come? I know it's only December 1, but..." And it doesn't matter. I would pack 25 days of Christmas parties into my life if I had that many friends who threw parties.

I mean, we literally had a Pumpkin Carving Party on Sunday. And it was awesome. And festive.

And my tiny, wonderful pumpkin:

And you better believe I'm going to be dressed up handing out candy on Halloween.

If not out trick-or-treating myself.

Thursday Thoughts

I must be stressed because my eye is twitching like strobe light. My jaw hurts constantly from clenching it while I sleep. I’m not sure how to cure that. Less stress, probably…

I’m in a strange place right now in all areas of my life. That waiting place again. I’m waiting for the volleyball season to be over, for my script to come in the mail, for Christmas, for my boss to retire, for a weekend full of sleep…

I haven’t written anything substantial in a long time. I wish I had more reason to write—like school, or work. There’s an A&E freelance position open in Fairbault. If only there was more time…

I’ve been pondering the natural lately: homeopathic medicine, homemade cleaners, natural childbirth, free range chickens. I wish I could talk about these things and have no one call me a hippie…

I feel like I have a kebab skewer sticking into my right eye. It’s just barely nicking my brain. I think that’s the source of the twitching. And the massive headache. Would like to get that removed…

This weekend will hold the final wedding of the season, some pumpkin carving, and time with good friends. I do love our life—disco ball eye twitching, kebab skewer headache, hippie ideology, and all.

Words

Words fascinate me. Of course that's general idea is why I became an English major. But deeper than that, words as art fascinate me. 

When I was in Jr. High, and maybe even younger, I used to make collages out of magazines. But unlike my sister and my friends who did this with pictures, I mostly used words. Not just quotes, but single words. I would choose powerful words: love, hate, grow, fascinate, symbol, inspire. Or interesting words: irrefutable, commemorate, swelter--words that use every part of your mouth to say, and every part of your mind to imagine. 

I would take these words and arrange them in patterns and shapes on notebooks, poster boards, and my bedroom walls. I would look at these words and simply enjoy them. Enjoy their shape, their sound, and the powerful meanings of each word.

As technology has advanced, I haven't had to use magazine cutouts to make beautiful collages. I can now plug my favorite words into Wordle and get a fantastic image. I recently decided to use all of the words from my blog to create a Wordle, just to see what I write about the most. 

Enjoy my words:

Wordless Wednesdays

Handwriting

One thing that I get complimented on most often: my handwriting.

Probably more unique than aesthetically pleasing or genuinely "good," either way my handwriting seems to draw compliments. It's inconsistent at best, a rolling scrawl most days. It's a combination of old-world cursive and school girl round print. It leans hard to the right and the tails dip far below the the accepted line. One world flows into the next and most letters have more loops than necessary.

I grip my pen between my middle and ring finger, wrapping my thumb tightly around the top--a method my elementary school teachers hated. One even told me I would never learn to write if I continued that way. I guess we have different definitions of "learn to write."

At one point, probably seventh grade, I dotted my i's with a little circle. Now I use no dot at all. I also used to write the letter F backwards; it was some sort of rebellion against the man. In fifth grade, Mrs. Ryburn made me stay in from recess quite often because I needed to work on my penmanship. I traced her words on the blackboard for 20 minutes while my friends played kickball. I never did master a cursive capital G.

I love studying the handwriting of my friends and coworkers. The way they script says so much about who they are and how they learned to write. It's fascinating--especially the science behind it, something I will never understand.

Here's a sample of my writing. Anyone smarter than me, feel free to analyze my life from the way this looks:

What do you get complimented on the most?  Anything surprising?

Some things

Some things I'm thinking about today:

Stress--it makes your hair fall out, your skin breakout, causes weight gain, and keeps you from falling asleep. Soon I will be an extremely tired, fat, bald girl with bad skin. 

Fall--I always say that spring is my favorite season, but fall is definitely in the top two. I love the slow dip from high heat to crisp cool in the air. The spectacular show the leaves put on in their vibrant color change. Everything is either pumpkin or apple flavored. It's the time to pull out all my cute boots and leg warmers. Everything smells warm and cozy, and each sunset seems like a perfect moment to cuddle under a blanket and enjoy a warm mug of tea. Okay, so fall might be my favorite season.

Injuries--I broke a blood vessel in my hand spiking at the girls during warmups last weekend, and I'm pretty sure the bone in my foot is at least bruised, if not fractured. I don't think you are supposed to get injured this much as a coach. 

Graphic Design--I don't know how real designers do their job every day. If I have to make one more cutout of a fall leaf I'm going to go cross-eyed.

This makes me laugh. It's so true. Definitely need my sleep. I mean, I only got six hours last night! I need twice that to function.

Brett's truck has been in the shop for a week, so I've had to drive him to work at 6:45 a.m. even though I don't have to be at work until 8. Most days I've been pretty good and used the extra time to work out. This morning I used my extra time to go to Starbucks and get a Pumpkin Spice Latte. 

Did I mention I love fall?