Made it through my 10 year!

Being on the other side of your 10 year high school reunion is so much more of a relief than the days and weeks leading up to it. Can I tell you a secret? I may have, MAY HAVE, given myself a pep talk before walking out the door last night. Whatever, we all do it. Right? Bueller? Bueller? I was incredibly anxiety ridden to walk in, jobless and single at 29. Though, those were my own insecurities and me being in my head. It was wonderful to see everyone, catch up and not feel like I did at 15 -- lame, inadequate and gawky. There were moments of fear, but the Bud Light and laughter helped that dissipate rather quickly.

(Beth and I are party animals)

I felt like an adult. I felt happy and included and respected and it was such a wonderful and great feeling. Well, most adults dance with the band on stage at the bar everyone goes to after the reunion, right? Great, I thought so. All of that worrying I did was for nothing. Everyone greeted each other with hugs and genuine happiness at seeing each other. 

                                                (The "I love sangria" sign is on point)

I can assure you, if you're ever faltering about whether or not to go to your reunion -- you should. Speaking as someone who's high school experience wasn't rainbows and lollipops, it's totally worth it. Seeing each other as adults, with jobs and spouses and real responsibilities makes such a world of difference. Pepping yourself up and telling yourself that you're not the same person now as you were at 18 helps a lot as well. I'm still totally nerdy and would rather be at home than out, but now I own it. OWN THE HELL OUT OF IT. As long as you're happy with yourself, that's all that really matters. Though it helps that the class of '04 is made up of some fantastic people. #04fosho 

Remember kids, always end your stories/blog posts/letters to the President, with a hashtag. 

Travel Tuesday: Bali, Indonesia

Back with Travel Tuesdays! Because the snow and cold temps are a drag to most of us, though it does come with the territory, let's pretend we're heading to Bali today. I mean, ARE YOU KIDDING ME? LOOK AT IT. LOOK! There's a water slide in the middle of the forest/jungle/lots of trees. :) 

                                                              (Credit: Pinterest)

Located in southeast Asia, Bali is one of 17,000 (!!!) archipelagos in Indonesia, and is known as the "Island of the Gods." On the island of Bali alone, there are over 20,000 temples, which hold twice yearly festivals. Along with the beautiful beaches and volcanic hillsides, Bali maintains delightful year round temps ranging from 68-93 degrees. Hello, lover. HELLO. 

                                                           Credit: (Pinterest)

The above image is of the Viceroy Bali, and I think we can all agree that we want to go to there. It is a family owned and operated resort located in Bali's Valley of Kings. Dear Future Husband: HONEYMOON ALERT (If I marry a millionaire, which obviously has a great chance of happening). 

Look, I understand this post is all over the place with no real flow to it, but JESUS. I keep pulling up images on Pinterest and hope that magically, I'll look out my window and see the beaches of Bali instead of the snow covered yards of Edwardsville, Illinois. Has anyone talked to Dumbledore about the advent of Apparition in muggles yet? (Yeah, I'm an HP nerd, DEAL). It's the kind of destination that legitimately makes you go "hummina hummina hummina," meaning there just aren't words for its beauty. Lest you think I'm making this up -- LOOK. I'd like to wake up to that gorgeous view every morning, please and thank you. 

So, anyone have a few thousand dollars laying around and want to take me to Bali? I'll be your best friend. Plus, I'm a hoot and a holler on all international vacations. YOU ARE WELCOME. 

Let it Snow.....in November?

Have we ever had snow this early in the season? I'm sure we have and I just don't remember, but Lord Almighty. If it's like this midway through November, what will January look like? STOCK UP ON WINE NOW. I will admit, however, that the very first snowfall of the year has such a peaceful quality to it, and I kind of enjoy it.

                                                                   (My backyard)

I also like that it was a Sunday, so you could stay curled on the couch with Netflix, books and perhaps a glass of wine. I said, PERHAPS! I also, maybe, kind of, put on some Christmas music yesterday while reading. DO NOT JUDGE ME. I'm the type of person that usually doesn't like anything Christmas related until AFTER Thanksgiving, because I love Thanksgiving so much. But, the snow and cold temps messed with my mind, and before I knew it, I was sock sliding in my hallway to some NSYNC "Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays," of which I will not be ashamed! You do it too, you know it (Bueller? Bueller?).

I'm going to cherish the above picture now, because I know in just 2 months' time, that smile will be LONG GONE. I fear we're in for another insane and ridiculous winter, so I'm trying to mentally prep myself. Any tips for staying semi-sane during the long winter months? Besides drinking $7 wine and binging some West Wing on Netflix? I'd love to hear!

Happy Monday!

Getting back to DELIGHTFUL

Since I think the last few posts have been focused more on things I either don't have or took maybe a more negative turn than I wanted, I want to get back on track with the "delightful" portion of this blog title! And I want to thank everyone for their kind responses to the last few posts as well, you all are the cat's pajamas and I am so thankful my life is filled with people like you. You make me feel like I'm not alone and that my feelings are valid. Thank you.

Because I've hit a bit of a writer's block today, I took to Pinterest to find some blogging prompts. Today, I thought I'd write about my most favorite childhood memory. I had a wonderful childhood. I have parents who are still together, a family that I adore, and so many ridiculous and funny memories, it was hard to pick one. I was probably around this age, when our story begins. :)

Funnily enough, I don't actually REMEMBER this particular story, but it is top on my list of favorites. I learned how to read at a very early age, which I think is where my voracious nature for books comes from. It was my maternal grandmother who taught me how to read at the age of 2. While in Edwardsville, for a visit of some kind I'm assuming, as we lived in Florida until I was 3, I went with my paternal grandparents to a dinner with some friends of theirs. Reminder, that at this time, I'm probably not quite 3 or so. I think it was Rusty's (man, I miss that place) and I was looking at the menu. While looking at the menu, I asked one of my grandparents what a certain item was and their friend said, astonished, "she can already read?" And my grandmother said, "her grandmother taught her." Already learning my quick comedic timing, I chimed in and said "Not this grandmother, My other grandmother!" It's a favorite story of mine and one that always makes me chuckle. 

I wanted to get back into the fun nature that I intended this blog to be, as the last few posts took a turn for the "woe is me," and that's not me, yo! Well, it is, but that's not all I am. Happy Wednesday, all!

Real Talk...

Happy Monday, all. Hope the start to your week has been fabulous! (As fabulous as a Monday can be, of course). Earlier this week, I started to wonder about what to wear to my upcoming 10 year high school reunion. I was a total nerd in high school -- awkward, gawky, lanky. I still am all of those things of course, now I know how to own it. Honestly? I wouldn't do high school again if you paid me. I had an incredibly hard time there and just don't think I would put myself through that again. This decade of time has allowed me the distance I needed to see myself how I really am and not as some label. It helps that the friends I made there and the 28 and 29 year olds I know everyone to be now, help me and allow me to fall back on the humor that I tended to use as a defense mechanism.

I'll be honest -- there's a part of me that is scared out of my damn mind to walk into that room in 3 weeks and immediately regress to how I was at 15. That I'll feel lame and terrible and judged. Being 29, single and recently jobless is a hard pill to swallow. However, I think that's me in my head (as I am wont to do) and making up these crazy scenarios of shit that will happen. I know that I have grown to be a dependable, funny, intelligent woman (who don't need no man? I'm sorry, that was ridiculous).

Judging from that picture above, I also clearly know how to clean up well. I know that most of what I think is going to happen, won't. The fear helps, as crazy as that sounds. The 15 year old inside of me that still thinks I'm a 4 eyed nerd (which, DUH. I am. I'll own the shit out of that) who no one will ever like, creeps up from time to time. Much like now, when I think about being in a room full of people that I haven't seen since 2004. She doesn't make herself known a lot, usually I can shut her up with some wine and some serious real talk. Because honestly, the only person who thinks that about me now, is me (or Lord Jesus Christ, I hope so. I'M A DAMN DELIGHT). 

Learning how to be at peace and how to own the hell out of myself has allowed me to take steps to the woman I know I am and can be. I know that the people I have talked to now and since don't still see the Tara that I sometimes do, and I am so grateful for that. Seriously, you will never know how grateful. Now, I think I can walk in, with my head held high and own that room like I was born to. Or, I'll just head straight for the bar. Either one has a likelihood to happen. :)

                                                       (What I decided on wearing to my reunion). 

Losing Your Job Doesn't Mean Losing Yourself

I worry that the title of this post is a bit self-helpy, but let's all suck it up and deal with it. As many people know, I lost my job at the end of September. While I knew it was coming by the end of the year (as the work just wasn't coming in), it still rattled me. I'll tell you a secret -- when you lose your job, whether you were expecting it or not, it makes you feel like you failed. Like life had given you this test and than did a "Ninner ninner ninner! You suck!" right in your face. It was a wake up call that getting too comfortable in any one place is not an option.

I had worked as a legal assistant since the fall of 2009. It was something I had just fallen into, not my dream job by any stretch of the imagination. But, it paid the bills and bought me books, so I stayed with it. About a year and a half ago or so, the desire to get out started making itself known. I searched for jobs, in fields that I went to school for. With a BA in English and minor in Women's Studies, the pickings were slim. While many people think publishing is a dying art, I like to think that it's just reinventing itself. So many people ask, "What can you do with an English degree?" Well, you can do pretty much anything with one --- outside of cutting people open and you know, sending people to jail. Also, I couldn't be a mathematician. Numbers are the devil.

Losing your job allows you to really dig deep and figure out, okay--what do I really want to do? What speaks to me? What gets me up in the morning? Not many people are lucky enough to have their dream job, and I'm aware that settling for something right now that pays the bills is my best option, until Tom Hiddleston comes to whisk me away to London and a life of tea and cricket for the rest of my days. (Apparently, I think England is just a constant Dickens novel). 

Surprisingly, I've been able to maintain a positive attitude with everything. There have been days where I feel like I failed. Days where I feel worthless and like I'm not a productive, contributing member of society. But, those days are few and far between. Things happen for a reason. The right job for me is out there, I just need to find it. Maybe it isn't around here -- maybe it's in New York, or Chicago, Boston or Timbuktu. My point is, if you find yourself at a crossroads, the important thing is to maintain a sense of who you are. You know your worth, your skills, your drive and ambition. Don't let shit weigh you down. And look, it's hard out there. It SUCKS. Massively. Royally. But, this did get me out of my comfort zone and routine, and I'm surprisingly grateful for it. Who knows how much longer I would have stayed had I not been let go. I would have gotten increasingly unhappier by the day and no one likes a sad sack Sally. 

Also, does anyone know --- including a Glamour Shot with your resume works, right? Early '90s style? Great, I thought so. And also telling them how witty and charming I am works as well? Whew. Than my resume is ready to go! ;) 

Insert Witty Title Here.

I cannot tell you how many people ask me on a near daily basis, "Well, what kind of man are you looking for?" like that is the sole purpose of my day; hunting down and finding me a man! Look, men are great. I love men! I've grown up surrounded by strong, honest, hard working men and think I can spot a good one when I see one (though 22 year old Tara might laugh in my face at that one). And while I joke about being whisked away to London by a charming Brit (and by joke, I mean PRAY), I'll tell you just exactly what it is I'm looking for, in case you happen to have a spare man laying around. 

Intelligence is number one. Hands down, no questions asked. He doesn't need to have graduated from Harvard, but a good working understanding of current events is always very sexy. I also tend to be a very sarcastic person. My sense of humor tends to run a bit on the drier side, and banter has always been a crutch for me. If I can go back and forth with you and you can throw it back, you are a damn delight (this not only goes for men, but everyone in my life. It's how I communicate). I've actually had men call me a bitch before, because my teasing was apparently too much for them to handle. Buh bye, you ball-less wonder. (Sorry, is that rude?). 

It basically just comes down to this: Don't be a dick. Have a good relationship with your family. Respect women. Don't wear newsboy caps. Don't wear socks with sandals. Believe in something, REALLY believe in something. Be funny. Go toe to toe with me, don't let the fight go out of you. Be a good tipper. Be kind. Read. When you wear a nice sweater and jeans, don't wear sneakers with it (I mean, Jesus Howard Christ). Don't use your menu as a coaster. For the love of God, don't let a 110 pound white girl school you in who Troy Polamalu is (I revoke your man card on that one). Love kids. Be interested (in anything; art, life, science, literature, music, sports, etc.). Have a sense of wanderlust. Above all, just think I'm a pretty damn great catch and you are one lucky son of a bitch. Because I am and you will be. 

                                                               (What I wear on dates)