Making my outside match my inside...

...is what I did for my birthday this year. And I love the results. I had a wonderful birthday weekend: four hours sitting for my new tattoo, sleeping late, shopping, my new Kindle arrived, having brunch, shopping, afternoon Family Guy marathon that went on into evening, pizza delivery (I haven't eaten pizza in almost six months), being lazy, doing a little holiday decorating. My new tattoo is my new favorite thing.



The art was done by Nate at A Million Tattoos based on a loose description (vintage lace...1920s) and some photos. I love it; it's feminine and girly, but it's still a tattoo (and it goes ALL the way around my arm, so just imagine how it felt underneath...Nate said I "sat like a champ" - which means I'm a tough girly-girl). It took almost four hours and the pain was totally worth it.

I'd need a lot more time and several thousand words to explain what it means to me. Suffice it to say that I've overcome (so many) obstacles in the past couple of years. I've lost and found and lost myself again. I don't know very many things about the me that I am, but one thing I do know is that she is not ordinary. Life is short. It should also be extraordinary. It's such a relief to discover that the me I've been trying to find is one I like so very much.

I no longer care about the destination...the journey is what takes my breath away.

On the job hunt front....

I've been awfully lax about keeping this site updated, but I have a good excuse: I've been working for almost a month at a new day job! For those of you who know me well and who have been keeping up with my (often amusing) tales during my job search, you know how great this news is for me. And I am happy to report that I love the new job. I'm online content editor for a high-tech company here in Austin, I get to work with a great group of creative people (I hadn't realized how much I've missed working with designers and art directors and having magazines like HOW scattered about), I have a regular schedule and also get to have weekends like normal people.

It took a few weeks to settle into the routine, the putting on of makeup and clothes that don't have stretch waistbands, shoes that aren't flip-flops and doing something to my hair other than putting it up in a ponytail. I miss my dog while I'm at work, but she's thrilled to see me every day when I get home so it all evens out. I also do not love the sitting in traffic, but I love the job so that evens out too (plus it gives me lots of time to listen to my favorite podcasts; time passes quickly when you're catching up on episodes of "This American Life").

And (AND!) I have some great stories about the job search. I had been freelancing since Sept./Oct. of last year so I could take my time and look for the right job for me and went on lots of interviews in an eight-month time period. I was talking to a friend last weekend about Karma and arrogance and hubris and how I often felt like I was being punished for something (pride, lack of compassion, taking pride in my lack of compassion) when I was working my way up the ladder. I believe we can learn a lot from the Universe if we just pay attention and it didn't take me long to start paying attention. In fact, I felt like I had a couple of interviews with the person I used to be - and I didn't like her very much.

I've learned to be grateful. I've learned humility. I've learned how to let go of the past. Most importantly, I've learned that I'll never stop learning. I plan to spend more time here, more time writing, getting back to personal narrative (because my mind is usually itching to after spending a full workday editing high-tech web pages) and to let my job be a job, not my identity.

Speaking of letting a job be a job, I've promised my friend and fellow writer Angie Mizzell a guest post and I'm hoping she hasn't crossed me off of her list yet, as I have a post in mind about that very topic.

Love you, mean it.

Remembering...

I used to think that if I told the real truth, the whole world would burst into flames. Nine years ago it felt like it did. It makes me remember and feel...

...like telling some people what I know that I pretend not to know so they could be just as shocked at the betrayal of others as I was at theirs.

...extraordinary shame when I catch myself wishing that bad things would happen to bad people. It's not up to me to mete out punishment.

...pity at discovering, though years have passed, sometimes people remain in the same emotional place in their lives forever.

...sorrow that, although I would love to put some things behind me and forget about them altogether, one cannot have an elective lobotomy. I tend to worry circumstance like a loose tooth.

...lost. I need an emotional and spiritual GPS.

...hopeful when I am reminded of kindness that came out of nowhere.

...grateful for the love in my life.

Time flies, which means I am old...

I can't shake a story I heard on NPR's "All Things Considered" last week by one of my favorite reporters, Robert Krulwich (his stories are always fascinating). It isn't the first time someone has asked the question, "Why Does Time Fly By As You Get Older?" but it is one of the best explanations I've heard. Everything is new when you're young. When you're older, it isn't. There are a few other theories in the story, but the bottom line is that it's true. I left Charleston more than a month ago, I've been living and working in Austin for over a month - and that month has gone by like a DAY.

Sort of. There have been wonderful moments, wheeling a cart through a grocery store or eating lunch at a great Tex Mex place downtown (Guero's last week - yum), when it has occurred to me that I will not run into a single person I know. I don't have to be on guard all the time. I can turn the bitch alert off and not even worry about it. I'm not talking about the wonderful friends and family and other people I miss in Charleston. I'm talking about the "didn't you used to be Kelly Love Johnson" gossipy bitches, the "hey can I pick your brain over lunch" mooches, the "bless your heart, are you ill?" fake people (I've been asked that question when I went out without makeup in Charleston). There is an amazing freedom in being in a city where no-one knows you, where you can leave the house wearing tights, boots, a ripped Depeche Mode t-shirt, sunglasses, and hair like a rat's nest and no one will look at you twice. Or even once. There's no-one here to ask me why I'm no longer writing for/working for the magazine I used to work for. I can be whoever I want to be - who I really am, once I find out who that is.

But I've also been working, so time has flown by. I even began to wonder why my days seemed so short, why I was tired so early (only an hour time difference, folks), and even while writing this, wondering why I haven't been able to write a damn word in my own voice. Until now.

Last year was hard, for me and many people I know for a variety of reasons. The economy, layoffs, the unemployment rate in South Carolina. For me, 2009 will always be "the bad year" when I lost my SELF. I forgot who I was. I stopped believing in myself. I lost faith in humanity, in people I once cared about, and in me. I was my own worst enemy - and a dangerous one. I had to pick up and move to another city halfway across the country to get enough perspective to realize how bad things were. Mostly because I'm really good at pretending things are OK when they're not.

Last year, because it was full of "novelty" for me, so to speak - I've never experienced some of the emotions, the personal crises, and the joylessness that I felt then - made my days, weeks, and months feel like a fucking eternity. I was so focused on survival that I stopped having fun. Time did not fly in 2009.

But it is now. Which means I have perspective. It also means that I'm back. Oh, and I'm old.

Moving update...

I had a great Christmas with the family and it was nice to take a break from packing, but yesterday after Christmas dinner and a short nap I picked it back up again around 5pm and packed until well after midnight.

When you live in a place for eight years, you accumulate a lot of stuff. I'm proud of myself for the "editing" I've done in the past few weeks - three trips with full carloads to the thrift store and giving away lots of stuff to friends and family. But every time I turn around there's another closet full of stuff, things that need to be washed before they're packed, and for some reason, more books. I had probably 400 books on three bookshelves and stashed away in closets and in stacks on tables and nightstands.

I know I'm going to be happy once I get to Austin and unpack and have a lighter load, but the culling has been crazy-making.

Today is the day we move the large furniture items into the UNITS Storage container and a bunch of friends are showing up in a couple of hours. I'm drinking coffee and have already been to the store this morning to buy water and energy drinks for everyone. I went to bed last night around 2am, woke up at 5:30 and couldn't go back to sleep, so I'm running on caffeine.

I'm hitting the road for Austin on January 3rd and will spend the next week living out of my guest room with my laptop and the TV I'm not taking with me. Lots of errands to do next week too - taking the car in for an oil change and checkup, cleaning the house, change of address, paying bills, wrapping up some work projects, and probably a dozen other things that I can't remember right now.

If I can get through today, it should be cake from here. I'm anxious to get on the road and get settled into my new place in Austin, but I haven't even left yet and already miss Charleston. I took a nap on the couch yesterday afternoon and realized it would be the last time I napped on my comfy couch in my lovely living room with the TV on low in the background and the dog curled up on my feet. The next couch nap I have will be in Austin. Weird to think that I'll be gone in 8 days!

Wish me luck and energy to get through today on 3 and a half hours of sleep (I tend to cry when I'm tired, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I don't burst into tears at some point).

And I'm already missing everyone here. If I haven't sent you an update, my new email address is kellylovejohnson[AT]gmail.com (no more Mindspring!), my cell number is the same, and if you want my address in Austin, send me an email. You can also find me on Facebook (link to the right).

In case you haven't heard...

I'm moving to Austin the first week of January. I haven't had time to Twitter, much less blog, but wanted to give everyone an update in case there's someone I forgot to tell! My new email is kellylovejohnson[AT]gmail.com and my cell is the same.

More details later...right now I'm multi-tasking (working, packing, donating, packing, working, and sleeping somewhere in between). And having the occasional tiny anxiety attack about being buried in boxes, moving away from my family (something I haven't done since I was in my 20s), leaving my friends, and leaving a city I love so much.

Don't get me wrong; I'm excited about the move and the changes in my life, I'm just overwhelmed with how quickly time is passing. This time next month I will be in Austin, hopefully mostly unpacked and settled in. And missing all of you.

2:17am on November 17...

Let the midlife crisis officially begin. instead of dating 20-somethings or buying a convertible, I'm going to start a new chapter in my life (I hate how new-agey that sounds). OK, a "new phase" in my life.

First, I'm letting go of all of the old shit. I've spent the past few evenings writing letters/emails I will never send to people who don't need to read them anyway. To the one who didn't stand up for me when you should have, to the one who used me to feed your ego, to the one who broke my heart, to the one who let me down when I needed you the most...I forgive all of it. I wish you love and happiness and I hate that it has taken me so long to get to the place where I can say that and start to trust people again.

Second, I'm moving on. Literally. More news on that later.

Third, as difficult as this past year has been, I know it has made me stronger. I shall not weep, I shall not wallow. I am going to celebrate the fact that I survived everything that has been thrown at me and come out on the other side a better person for it.

Life is short. Holding on to pain from the past is a waste of time. I'm so lucky to have friends who stuck by me, who listened to me sob over the telephone wires from many miles away, who have hearts so wonderfully large it takes my breath away. Instead of counting my missteps, I am counting my blessings, and there are so many.

I am one year older and one year wiser. What a gift.