anything but unlucky: 2013

dear reader,

happy new year to you. sincerely, thank you for catching up on my scattered ramblings. i wanted to post some reflections about this past year, which i have deemed 2013: the year the universe decided to test me and i passed (i think). if you know anything about me at all, you know that i constantly struggle with my unproductive flaws and ways to improve myself as a woman, a thinker, a friend, a breather of oxygen.

countdown, here we go.

13. i rarely bake or cook. call me lazy, or call me efficient: i prefer my foods simple (steamed vegetable of choice and boiled chicken with red curry sauce = weekly dinner option) and quickly thrown together. recipes that involve multiple verbs ("peel," "dice," "grate," "stir," "grease," "blend," and "combine" before i hit the second line) and ingredient lists longer than the contents of diet coke usually get filed and never used. but in 2013, my best friend introduced me to bountiful baskets (for $15, i was presented with a vegetable and a fruit basket containing fresh, seasonal produce) which has led to some fantastic new recipes. since i am not picky about veggies or fruit, each week's bounty was consumed in its entirety, since i hate waste and i was up for a new cooking challenge. i made turkey meatballs, roasted rainbow carrots with honey balsamic vinegar glaze, creamed corn and egg casserole with fresh anaheim peppers and ham, kale and sweet potato salad, mashed cauliflower with toasted breadcrumbs and parmesan, and many flavorful additions to my morning protein shake (fresh mango, pear, pomegranate, bananas, and blueberries).

12. exploring the northwest this past year has made me appreciate how lucky i am to choose whether i want to wake up to the hum of car tires on blacktop and never lose sight of building lights on rooftops or if my afternoon walk involves a lakeside mountain goat and finding sleeping bats nestled in rafters. in 2013, i roadtripped to montana, washington, and utah.

11. my annual closet purge revealed that i own so many beautiful clothing items and accessories-- each carrying a story about where i found it, how i wore it, and how much i really love getting ready in the morning to greet the world with an a-line jersey knit skirt or a lace peplum top or a studded gold bangle on my wrist.

10. very few people understand me and i am still in the process of accepting that i am mostly to blame for keeping secrets but finding a comfortable way to change how i interact with people (mainly of the opposite gender). so even though i consider myself truly close to a just handful of guys, 2013 severed my ties with two important people; shattering my idealization of a role model and friend in one case forced me to take a step back and question how, once again, i could so stupidly fail the test of finding a trustworthy, decent partner. i continue to struggle with letting go, removing the harsh personal blame and unnecessary guilt, and coming to terms with the idea that i am what x wants but not who he chooses. but i do not deserve to be pitted against petty, dependent bitches; so i move on.

9. my two best friends both had babies in september. ty and nancy are so very fortunate to be born into loving, supportive families with friends that loved them before they even met.

8. 2013 was the year of my lips taking center stage. lipstick, lip gloss, lip balm, lip crayon: the collection amasses.

7. for the first time ever, my alcoholic drink of choice is a glass of wine. while i prefer the sweet, preferably lightly carbonated wines, i really enjoy a cab with dinner. i tasted my first syrah, malbec, and viognier in 2013 and am excited to participate in the accessible sophistication of being deemed a wino.

6. i indulged in young adult fiction in 2013. if you know anything about me, you know that i pride myself in being a critic, a naysayer, and stubbornly refusing to "like" popular writing and movies. something changed this year, reader, and i found myself enjoying the hunger games series and pretty much anything written or inspired by john green. this is really a.big.deal.

5. i've always been a fan of makeup. what's not to love about shimmering eyeshadow or a new tube of mascara that never clumps? but in 2013, i realized i was definitely on the downward slope to 30 years old, and i decided to focus on a skincare regimen. during a mary kay make up demo, the rep stated, "it's easier to prevent than it is to reverse," and i suddenly imagined my face covered in little cornflakes needing to be microdermabrasion'ed the hell off of my skin. i suppose 28 years old isn't a terrible age to hopefully preserve a little of my youth even though my freckles and oddly placed facial moles continue to cause me great consternation.

4. my kia died by exploding the heater core and flooding the floor while i was at work. a tree fell on my new car.  a giant nail lodged itself into my car tire. i am cursed with automobile issues, but 2013 taught me to be thankful and appreciate people with car-fixing skills. i have my talents and hobbies, but none of them are mechanically-based; i am so thankful that other people are good at what i am not and their passion helps people like me who ask google "why is my car flooded?" or "siri, directions to les schwab."

3. selfies were out of control this year, reader. i will never be able to forget what i looked like in 2013 from a variety of angles in different reflective surfaces.

2. my reputation for shirking any love interests peaked in 2013. my friends send me text messages with anti-love sentiments that remind them of me. but, even though i rarely talk about my intimate personal life, this past year was filled with interesting people, stories, and memories (some excellent and some irritating) that should be preserved in serifs or pixels-- someday.

1. as i look ahead to 2014, i am overwhelmed with thankfulness. i still feel young-- even if i am not anymore. physically, i am as strong as ever (who would have EVER though i would be the most athletic in my group of frieds-- of course, "athletic" is loosely applied). i wallow less in apathy and don't cry (regularly) in the shower anymore. my friends are varied and few but still just as amazing as ever. in 2014, i hope to exude a positive attitude of openness, willingness, and acceptance to continue to explore this simultaneously cruddy and intriguing world around me. invite me to share your joys too, reader.

your move, 2014. i'm ready.

dear x: begin again

dear x,

i began my journey of over-sharing to determine if i am capable of feeling love. i knew by doing so that i would resurrect reserved memories and expose some of you in the process. while i will admit that my love letters were not as productive as i initially hoped, i am so overwhelmed with a range of emotions for you-- and for the future.

perhaps it is too easy to blame my unwillingness to open up to new potential x's because of you. you, x, after all, lied to me, said crushing things, changed your mind, and left me-- in some way-- alone. you have helped create this psyche, this outlook, this worth, this self,






until i realized it's time to take ownership of my past, and that means you, x. you happened. i will never be the same. but at the end of the day, or at the first morning yawn, you are stagnant; ever effacing; past. writing to you this month has brought me some closure by materializing (as much as an internet blog post can do) my feelings and allowing an audience to empathize with a rarely deeply discussed sector of my life, body, and mind.

thank you, dear readers, for working through my love letters with me; maybe you have reflected on what has brought you to this point in your own life-- and who you do and don't share those experiences with now.

i suppose what remains is acceptance. dear x, i know everything happens for a reason. i can't deny how empty i feel at times, as if my ribs are parentheses bearing a dull heart that pitters listlessly and patters unfulfilled. but capturing some of those moments with you in these entries lets me relive and acknowledge what once made me happy; and what is love if not to share joy with and for someone. while simply stating that i forgive you and you are eternally free from the prison of my darkened mind is just not possible, i do however, x, agree to start letting go.

of what was.


of what could have been.

and perhaps releasing the bitterness and sadness and jadedness will generate space for someone who will see the fingerprints you left on my heart but who will surprise me by sailing away with me on the tide that gently slips over those grooves-- dispersing your memories into the swells that carry us into the horizon, enchanted.

love,

a.







i almost brought him up

but you start to talk about the movies

that your family watches every single christmas

so i won't talk about that

for the first time

what's passed is

past

dear x: come on get higher

dear x,

when people are in love, they celebrate their firsts: first date, first kiss, first house, first baby. when people like me lose people like you, they mourn their lasts:

the last time i heard you laugh, your cell phone rang and interrupted your piano playing (a rather melodramatic piece from the "lord of the rings" soundtrack). i heard you ask hello, followed by a brief silence, and then you erupted into a loud, resonating laughter. i am so glad, x, that that last hearty laugh was filled with your sincere happiness.

the last drink we shared together, you poured me a healthy glass of grape vodka over ice while you sipped on some gin. we sat on the old blue comforter from your bed and watched "little miss sunshine." the fan overhead rustled the living room curtains, and my cheeks flushed from the room heat and alcohol.

the last words you said to me directly were, "i am going home in a few days. but when i get back, don't be here." you banished me from our hallway, never again to watch your shadows dart under the door as you walked by in the morning. you didn't care where i slept at night, as long as our toothbrushes weren't stored together and i took my coffee table with me.

the last time we were in the same room, i attended a poetry reading at a wine shop after i graduated. you introduced the readers, speaking slowly and nervously into a microphone. your words sounded rehearsed as i feigned interest in a nebulous object slightly above your head. i resisted the urge to wonder when you had purchased the blue button down dress shirt that you wore that evening.

the last email you sent me was a department meeting announcement. i was just another cc, another itemized address on your list, another person you reached out to only to receive fewer replies than questions. reading your name at the bottom of a carefully worded form letter made me realize how foreign you were about to become-- we would exist separately, each like a chapter in different books on unrelated subjects resting on library shelves three thousand miles apart.

the last time that i will tell you that i loved you is here in this love letter, x. i loved you, i am certain. and i miss you-- so much that it hurts-- but you moved on and it's time for me to do the same. i wish you a lifetime of  encapsulated poetry, that each new first is an enchanting and inspiring moment for you.

because loving you was my last.

love,
a.

and i ache to remember

all the violent

sweet

perfect

words that you said

dear x: little lion man

dear x,

i will probably never be happy.

but i know-- i know, x-- that i will never be happy without you. so just stop wasting our time and realize that you should be spending your afternoons with me, bound for the horizon and singing your favorite song against my neck. today was one of those perfect days that we will be nostalgic for, years from now; i'll show you the pictures of today's morning rainstorm and the spring afternoon sunshine and us holding hands under a cloudless evening sky.

the heartbreaking reality is, x, that this love letter is too late. we passed the point, so long ago now, of finding safety and comfort in each others' company. i know you're thinking of her. you know i'm remembering my world before you. but you know it's conceiving of a world without that makes me heavy with melancholy and blame.

love,
a.

i really fucked it up this time

didn't i, my dear?

dear x: you are my sunshine

dear x,

we sat around a bonfire pit: you held a bottle of gordon's and a menthol in one hand and i sat cross legged in a splintery wooden chair. the crackling dance of orange flames had already settled but the glowing embers still licked furiously at my cheeks and eyelashes. the night before, we tried holding hands on your couch "just to see" if either of us could feel anything other than apathy towards another person. we mutually postponed our conclusions.

i thought, maybe we should return to our discussion.

i inhaled; my exhales were staccato and hesitant.

i smelled my hair.

i inhaled again.

and then you started whistling. you licked your lips. the tone was shrill. i recognized the tune after you finished the second measure of the chorus. i watched your pursed lips as a smile formed at the edges of my mouth, so i fidgeted with the hem of my shorts.

"you are my sunshine," you started singing. "my only sunshine." you were not whistling anymore.

"don't," i teased.

"you make me happy when skies are gray."

"british or american spelling?"

"you'll never know just how much i--" you paused.

and waited.

i waited. heat rose to my cheeks, hotter than any sting from a fire.  love you, just say it, x. how much i love you, it's part of the song, it doesn't mean you actually do. do you?

"so american spelling?" i continued.

we never referred to that night again. to this day, x, i wonder why you chose that song, in that moment, for that reason, to break that particular silence. this love letter, x, finishes what you didn't say. you took my sunshine away when you failed to trust that i could possibly reciprocate your feelings-- familiar apathy or love. my skies may forever be gray,

because what is now just another night around a pit for you is a heartbreaking moment of regret for me.

love,
a.

nothing else could come between

but now you've left me to love another

you have shattered all of my dreams

dear x: holy ground

dear x,

you took me out dancing downtown. i wore a purple dress, and i watched you attach your cuff links while glancing back and forth between our reflections in your bathroom mirror.

i'll never forget how i felt when you smiled at me with your hand on my back and the occasional brush of our hips. i am a terrible dancer; you didn't seem to care, so i hardly recognized the giddiness in my own laugh. we ran into a few people that you knew, and you introduced me as "pretty andrea." i try to look pretty; i rarely feel pretty but that night was an exception. i kissed you hard on a red lips couch in the basement at grainey's and sincerely wished everyone in the city could bear witness to my excitement.

summer has a way of resetting my life. perhaps the longer days, dewy skin, shorter hemlines, and penchant for mojitos renew my faith in love-- because that june night with you still makes me blush and even writing you this love letter inspires me to spin around the room, reliving one of my happiest memories.

love,
a.

i guess we fell apart in the usual way

and the story's got dust on every page

but sometimes i wonder how you think about it now

i see your face in every crowd

(i cannot find any good youtube videos for this song and it makes me sad)

dear x: catalyst

dear x,

that afternoon on the swings, i reached for your hand and missed as you passed by me with your legs out-stretched and my hair stuck to my lips.

i tried to kick high enough to poke a hole in the damp, gray sky. we could have crawled inside and snuggled up against our own loneliness.

but i suppose then i would have missed what came next: you played the piano for me for the first time in the basement. i learned your eyes are green, not blue. i decided i wanted to hear your simple repetitive chords that sounded like wind chimes and heart patters every single day for the rest of my life.

i am writing you this love letter because i enjoy remembering how it all started instead of our eventual fated end. our hands missed for a reason, but that doesn't mean i regret our fingertips brushing.

love,
a.

you'll be the vein

you'll be the pain

you'll be the catalyst

dear x: nothing's gonna stop us now

dear x,

i almost called you the other night while i was driving home in the rain because you're always the first person i think of when i'm scared.

after the lab dedication for mary ellen, i really missed having people in my life that i admire and respect. when i was a student, i was constantly supported by positive people with similar goals and interests who encouraged me to develop my talents and be proud of my accomplishments. however, you were my biggest fan, for whatever reasons, and you believed in me so much that i didn't have to; i had no idea the immensity of your stability until you were gone.

i am so scared, x, that i will never be as great as you believed me to be. i am terrified of mediocrity, of being just good enough, of never being loved by anyone else because you were wrong and i suck. i broke up with you because ironically i chose love over friendship; i chose the possibility of greater things over actual contentedness; yet, i haven't even come remotely close to finding anyone that equals you. i do suck.

which is why i am writing you this love letter: once upon a time you loved me at my best, and i am thankful for all of the years you carried 95-lbs of me (and up to 120 when i was chunky monkey). before i met you, i ached for the day when i would meet someone that i trusted enough to love me as i loved him. and then i found you. and i am still so very happy that i did.

love,
a.

and if this world runs out of lovers,

we'll still have each other

the truth is i never really left you.

oh, harro.

the chill mornings and waning sunlight tell me summer's end is near. fall is my favorite time of year, stirring some remnants of sentimentality together with hardened expectations for the impending colder (see: isolated) months ahead. dear reader, i have (re)learned many things these last few months; i hope you have also delved into thought, experience, people-- life.

so here's how i spent my summer...

deciding what to do with my bangs and expanding my accessories collection.









rediscovering my past in the recesses of my old bedroom at my parents' house.



my first sunglasses purchased at express!









confirming my problems are not diagnosable by a lab.





my first commercial aired. (3 more in the works.)




immersing myself in new worlds and drama.

like gossip girl

and nat geo documentaries

and glee

and-- big applause, please-- modern family

descending further into domestic life-- and conceding it's really not that terrible.















rediscovering past favorites that fit the present perfectly.

defending my patio from terrorists.

logging miles on a different set of tires.

getting away for a while.

















































for more pictures, see amy's blog too.






never reaching an answer but i'm really ok with that.

and life continues.

the goods: this is a clever post, where I am really sad inside but pretend it's a good thing

tonight, I celebrated my friend christy's birthday. her always thoughtful and romantic husband planned a surprise dessert with her friends and family at a restaurant downtown. happy birthday, Christy!

afterwards, I decided to meet up with the bestie and some of her work friends. I tasted the strongest margarita I've ever had outside of las Vegas





and then people-watched at the balcony.

tonight, I was surrounded by people-- mostly strangers, but fellow humankind nonetheless. there was the fat-skinny girl in a sequin skirt, the howling boy in a wolf hat, the older man in a navy blue polo hogging the pool table: all seeking connections and attention. there I was too-- in my skinny jeans and newly dyed hair (back to black. playtime is over)-- feeling so alone and isolated and sad.

I would forget them all, never see any of them again, if I could only be with you.

tonight, instead of dancing or flirting or taking my top off, I wrote poetry on old gum wrappers. I thought of you, missed you, and wished you felt the same way.

so, upon crawling into bed, trolling tumblr, I found this:






stupid and silly as that is, it is exactly what my heart feels right now.

so I listen to some tunes:









and hope I see you in my dreams tonight. it seems to be the only way I can be happy.

like a prism

about a week ago, a customer paid for her prescription with a credit card that had an image of her daughter and her standing in front of a large mountain.  she told me that her capital one card let her choose her own background picture-- and i added "had to choose from a golf ball, forest, or flower" to the long list of reasons why i despise US bank.

and then, i dreamed at length of which image i would choose for my not-going-to-happen bank card that-- according to capital one's website-- would be "unique" like me.  "unique" is such a quaint way to describe me.  i prefer "special," if you must know.

maybe i would pick a classic, cute background design to show my artsy side.

or maybe something to show my angsty/emo side:

or maybe something to show my resclusive but still loves comic strips side:

or something to remind me of my favorite place on earth (besides my bed), patrick's point:

or maybe something to show my soft spot for pandas, especially little fuzzy baby waby pandas:

wow, i can't forget britney from my all-time favorite photo shoot:

what about you, reader? what image would you choose?

new: E

here's the first Emily Dickinson poem I read tonight-- my book opened to this page, which I always find eerie yet cool:


Heart, we will forget him!
You and I, to-night!
You may forgive the warmth he gave,
I will forget the light.

When you have done, pray tell me,
That I my thoughts may dim;
Haste! Lest while you're lagging,
I may remember him!


mind eraser, take me home.

summer day 78

beautiful day in eagle.




lead to an impromptu solo 6ish mile bike ride on my mom's new schwinn.






hung out at heritage park after sulking because I didn't have a bike lock and therefore couldn't get starbucks.






enjoyed some quiet time cruising around my old stomping grounds. felt good to breathe some fresh air. as c once stated, "girls don't sweat; they glisten."






and then I indulged in some nachos and hummus and garden tomatoes for the BSU game. another great day.

summer day 33

I think this is yet another example of "when one door closes, another opens." yet another venue from my youth shuts its doors. what will replace it?

summer day 10

the Hollywood Video in eagle is closing. this is where I worked for $5.50/hr in high school (and part of my first year in college) and where I spent the majority of my nights and weekends. where there used to be tables of perfectly shrink-wrapped previously-viewed movies (I got mad skills...) and lines of anxious teenagers, there is emptiness and discount signs. nostaglic is not the right word--but it's close.

may take my picture.

when i was in junior high and high school, one of my favorite days of the school year was in may: yearbook day. i'd prepare for this day-- i would buy a special yearbook-signing pen, i would usually pick out a wise quotation to write in people's yearbooks (i.e. "remember to see the flower in the weeds," "those who stand for nothing fall for anything," etc.), and i would practice my signature and determine which AIM screenname i wanted to share with others. i mostly looked forward to yearbook day because i loved seeing the past year captured in candid photos-- i liked learning about events i didn't go to and reading random interviews with people i admired-- and in the posed headshots where i could giggle over pictures of my crush or find a small bit of satisfaction that super-cute x looks terrible in her school photo.

mind you, this was waaaaay before facebook or myspace. i couldn't browse through profile pictures or mobile uplaods. there was only a yearbook photo, tiny and in black-and-white. i couldn't click on "albums" and see y's volleyball championship pictures and team photos. i couldn't write on someone's wall and leave a "hey! call me!" comment; i waited with giddy excitement to read what z wrote in my yearbook-- did he think i'm a "cool chick" and "super smart" and would we "hang out this summer"? i couldn't send xyz a friend request and hope that a tenuous connection would be established and maintained through face/space; i anxiously approached other kids and asked them to sign my yearbook and hoped their message to me would be just as nice as mine to them.

my friends and i would reserve pages so we could write heartfelt messages to each other. "SAVE FOR ANDREA" would be scrawled across the top of a page, and i'd ponder how i could possibly encapsulate the meaning of high school friendship on a glossy yearbook page... but i did. back then, my friends and i didn't spend hours texting back and forth; we would sum up our friendship and love for each other in lengthy yearbook signings. these messages are far more permanent and meaningful than the thousands of texts and dozens of one-line myspace comments.

i wonder if the current generation of high school students appreciates looking through their yearbooks as much as i did. i wonder if they will someday laugh at the hairstyles and clothing worn in their youth in photos that their entire class can peruse through at any moment. i wonder if the club pages, faculty photos, and indexes create a swarm of butterflies in their stomachs when someone hands them a hardbound book with the academic year printed on the front. i wonder if yearbooks will be phased out and replaced with social technology lifebooks. tonight, i'll look at my yearbooks with a little more appreciation and nostalgia.

may disappear.

i read a poem during my angsty teen years in high school; i've since forgotten the title, author, or context of said poem. i do, however, remember the message, paraphrased here:

sometimes i wish you were dead.
at least then, you'd have a reason not to call.

that's all i have for you tonight-- someone else's words. my heart is heavy, and i miss someone, which is one of the worst feelings in the world. i don't know why people say they'll be there, they'll be your friend, they've got your back, etc. and then they're not.

i suppose i'm still searching for the "no matter what" clause.

my love for netflix

i'm housesitting in eagle this month, and because i know my personality, i quickly predicted that i would become a couch-confined blob eating lots of peant m&m's and occasionally indulging in a crossword puzzle or sudoku from the newspaper. fortunately, that hasn't been the entire case. although, a certain entity has brought me endless happiness:

netflix.

i should preface this post with an interesting andrea fact: my first "real" job was working as a guest service representative at hollywood video in eagle. yes, it's true. i rented nearly 300 movies in a span of 2 years (although in my defense, some of those rentals were video games for my brother or movies for the parental unit). after i stopped working for that lovely corporation and shrugged off my starchy purple shirt and black pants uniform, i became really disgusted with the whole movie-watching process. the thought of immersing myself in an alternate world with fake characters and allowing my body ample time to deposit fat cells on my butt urged me to seek other recreational activities. you know, like myspace.

however, i decided that if i was going to be in a strange house, mostly alone, that i'd give netflix a try. the movies come to me, right? i spent near 45 minutes building a 60+ movie queue last thursday, and i was delighted to find the first 3 movies on my list waiting for me when i arrived at the house on sunday night. talk about fast service.

talk about spending hours on the comfy brown suede couch drunk on bloody marys (and vodka tonics. . . and coke with vanilla vodka. . . and beer, but who's keeping track?!) and laughing hysterically at the unlikely duo of bff's in "superbad" or bawling my eyes out (really. . . i feared for the healthy balance of saline in my eyeballs) to "p.s. i love you"-- SEE THIS, people!-- or scribbling in my notebook with small snippets of information from "what the bleep do we know?"

i mean seriously: talk about it! after i watched the first round of movies, i shared one with my mom and then sent the other two away. two days later, more are in the mailbox. it's like christmas/birthday/a hot first date combined. i've watched 5 movies in 5 days. it's incredible.

"lars and the real girl" is coming tomorrow. i can't wait.

Well, it's been an interesting month so far! To think that 22 days ago I was celebrating Kim's birthday at P.F. Changs boggles my mind.

Several dozens of pages later (including not one. . . not two. . . not three. . . but four essays for my grad classes, including an essay on one of my essays!) and several dozens of hours later (from reading 102 portfolios), I finished off my Spring 2008 semester at Amy's combined birthday-bachelorette party. We ate at P.F. Changs (I'm becoming a regular), and then went dancing and drinking at Hannah's. Yes, you read that right! I was getting my groove on.

But I can't escape school that easily. . . the next morning bright and early at 8:30, I had school. It was the first meeting before my summer school class starts in June. School has consumed so many hours of my life (waking and non-waking). I truly thank the people I work with for putting up with my office complaints, attempts at humor, and my Clorox wipe obsession. You can also view my old school computer in my office. What you can't see, though, is an autographed picture of Britney Spears hanging in my cubicle. It's glossy and totally photocopied =)

On Saturday, I watched my best friend Kim graduate (along with others like a roomie, Brett, and various peeps from Eagle) from BSU. I'm so proud of them all!

As if all this wasn't enough, Yann and his girlfriend Alexis came to Boise for the weekend. It was great to see Yann again, and his taste in girls has significantly improved since high school.
This weekend is Amy's wedding, and then I'll be moving temporary to Eagle to housesit for the month of June. I'm super excited about it. I hope you're enjoying your summer vacations too!