I’ve been meaning to write.  Really, I have.  I spent a lot of energy telling people about my big plans for post-employment writing when I quit my job following the death of my husband.  People were comforted in knowing I had a plan that didn’t sound completely loony and I was comforted in knowing people were not going to worry about me. The more I shared my hopeful next steps with others, the more I started to believe how amazing my plan, in fact, was!  I was excited that I was excited about something.  I was hopeful that my spark of sarcastic wit put to paper would create a whole new world for me.   I could blog about my growth and healing.  It would help, I was sure of it.

I bought a WordPress domain and other necessary interweb requirements and was so ailed by the devil of procrastination and paralyzed in fear that I didn’t actually know what the fuck I was doing that I never bothered to set the password on my MacBook Air and get started.  That fear has carried me through nearly six months of unemployment.  I continue to read blog posts and witty articles and memes from others who have experienced a tragic loss.  They’re witty and well-written.  They’re classy.  They obviously know what they’re doing in life. They must have a writing background or a support system to help get their art in front of the world.  I’m sure of it.  And as quickly as I became obsessed with being a fantastic blogger, I’m over it.  It’s okay that I won’t make the Huffington Post.  I’m going to blog anyway.  It’s for me.

So!  Hello, blog.  Here I am… blogging.  Blog, blog, blog.  Funny, ha ha. Funny.  Here goes;

What has a funny girl been up to besides sprinkling joy and gratitude around the world?  I’ve been living.  Boldly.  Bravely.  Trying not to fall off the path and face plant in a pasture of failure.  My living occurs between counting the days, weeks, months, holidays, birthdays, graduations, weddings and funerals my love has missed or will miss and celebrating the life I started when he left us.  Not a day goes by when I don’t think about him.  He is more often than not the first thought in the morning – right after “oh shit.  9 o’clock again?  damn, i miss mornings” inner monologue.  There are mornings when I think, “you fucker.  this is hard.  you got out the easy way.”  And those thoughts quickly fade behind the reality that his life was the hardest… and mine isn’t.  I got this.  Get up.

A funny girl needs to laugh.  It is how I emote.  At least it is when I’m not crying.  I don’t take myself too seriously and laughing at myself is typically when I burn the most calories.  I use humor as a defense mechanism and will beat you to your own conclusion that I’m a mess and bathe in self-deprecation to make you feel better about your situation, however better or worse it may be.  Guaranteed.  I also think I’m pretty funny so… just smile.  Laughter has been my medicine of choice in these last ten months of living.  I want to share all of my adventures – in hilarious detail – but I would have to introduce false characters, change names and locations to protect the innocent and call it fiction.  Sorry I’m not sorry.  You only live once (YOLO) is a popular mantra and I’m laughing my way along, destination unknown.

YOLO.  It’s true.  Well, kind of, I think [See Book: Many Live, Many Masters by Brian L. Weiss, M.D.]. And in true committed “live this life” fashion – my priority behind getting out of bed every day is to see more of the world.  They say traveling leaves you speechless and then turns you into a storyteller.  Huh.  I like to tell stories and I’ve always loved getting on a plane, no matter the arrival gate.  I absolutely love the fact I can wake up at home and rest my head on a foreign pillow on the other side of the world in a matter of hours.  Traveling is by far the best way I have spent my time, my energy and my money.  It gives back.  The smells, the sights, the sounds, the food, the people!  I feel most alive when I have my toes dug deep into an ocean beach with the sun burning bright above me, not so gently painting my skin with freckles and shades of pink, red and dare I say a hue of purple?  I have found a very deep bond with this earth since my husband left it.  The air is different.  I breathe differently.  Or perhaps the world’s energy shifted the tiniest bit when he left and the gentle breeze is actually him aiding my lungs a bit since my heart beat slowed.

Among my travels I have been fortunate enough to zip line through the rain forests of Costa Rica, make a music video in West Palm Beach, climb a 50 ft. pole (just to jump off in an exercise of letting go) in the Catalina mountains, witness a shooting star in Sunderland, UK the night before I put my love’s ashes in the North Sea, snorkel with sea turtles in the Columbia Reef and enjoy not 1 but 2 glasses of champagne watching the sunset over London from the famous eye.  I have also enjoyed amazing experiences stateside.  I joined a bowling league at my local lanes and won the championship my first season! Go Express!  I saw Tina and the B-Sides outdoors at the zoo, watched the Wild slaughter the Hawks in the stadium series outdoor game (Suck it Chicago fans) and have been afforded the most amazing time with my dogs, including an entire month of hiking in Portland, OR.

People tell me I’m “lucky”.  Uh, sorry.  But, what the hell does that mean? How are folks defining “luck”?  I assure you luck has nothing to do with how or why I’m living.  Fortunately or unfortunately, life happened.  I’m responding as best I know how or care to.  People tell me how jealous they are that I am not working right now and I “just” get to travel and do whatever I want.  It used to take quite a bit of will power to not wind up and bitch slap the ignorance from their mouths but I’m over it.  I understand the intent behind such a statement and kindly ask you to construe that I do not share the joy I am experiencing in this life – which admittedly I have to work really, really hard on some days to achieve – just to have you waste precious energy being envious of it.  I don’t go around telling others how jealous I am they get to go to work on the regular and hug their spouses daily.  It is not a good use of the energy I conjure up each day.  This world is too competitive.  Everyone wants, wants, wants.  People want things, things, things. And so they work, work, work.  One of the most important lessons I have learned in life (and not surprisingly, quite recently) is you can always earn more money but you don’t always have the gift of time or an opportunity to stop and smell the lilacs.  I am not competing with anyone.  I want everyone to do what they love, enjoy life success, stop worrying about things that have zero impact on their lives and pay forward kindness and humility.  Is that too much?

Table the jealousy that burns in your gut because the Jones’ bought a ______.  Ignore the voice in your head telling you that in order to be loved, you need to be flawless.  How you spend your energy is important.  Invest in yourself.  Let it go and be grateful. Always.

Not so funny for a first blog post, but there it is.  Funny girl blogged.  You’re welcome.

“In the end, people will judge you anyway, so don’t live your life impressing others.  Live your life impressing yourself!” – author unknown