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.

Best. Christmas. Ever.

I don't want to start this off by saying I have a small case of the post-holiday, missing my family blues. But there I went. I wanted to start off by saying I got to spend an amazing 10 days with friends and family back in Charleston after being away for a whole year - the longest I've gone without seeing my mom, sisters, nieces, nephew, and friends from Charleston. It took me less than a day to sink into the familiar comfort of home, curled up on mom's couch while she cooked something fabulous in the kitchen (poached eggs with fresh spinach and hollandaise for dinner? Yum.), hugging my sisters and nieces and my BFF Mary Kathryn, staying up late at night talking to my mom, shopping with my sister Katie and MK (always expeditions in hilariousness), lunch with my writer friend Angie that came with some nice inspiration, meeting my almost-6-month-old niece and namesake (Jolie Love) for the first time and getting to pinch her chubby little cheeks in person, feeling so much love surrounded my family and extended family and friends, it spoiled me just a tiny bit.

Now that I'm back in Austin, I feel invigorated, less homesick, stocked up on the family love, comforted, and so grateful that I was able to spend so much time with them. It snowed, giant fluffy flakes, the day after Christmas...like magic. I slept every single night I was there like I haven't in a year...going to bed after midnight and waking up at 7am ready to go. Why don't I sleep like that in Austin? I've been waking up earlier than usual since I've gotten back and don't want to sleep until noon, but I also wake up a lot at night here. Is it the quiet in Charleston versus living on a fairly busy street across from a bus stop in Austin? Or was it being back with family and feeling safe? After a year in Austin, I think I've done a pretty good job of getting myself into a safe space. And now I have new memories of being back home to lull myself to sleep.

It's hard being away, but I realize how much has changed in a year. I've made friends in Austin. I love this city. It's not where my family is, but they're not as far away as it felt they were a month ago. And yes, I drove - 2 days each way - and it didn't kill me. The massage I got on Sunday after I returned helped, and so did the audio books that kept me entertained on the road. But something else is different: Now I know I can come home, even though things have changed in all of our lives, what I love the most doesn't change. As soon as I arrived and my mother gave me a great big "mom hug," I knew I was home and that home will always be there - no matter where I end up.

Yes, I'm rambling a bit, but I also promised above-mentioned writer friend that I'd blog more, blog more honestly, write even when I don't want to, write about things I don't want to write about, and get back to the "old Kelly Love." The one (thank you, Angie!), who is "the sh*t."

I feel so lucky to have the friends and family I have. I don't know many people who would pick the family members they've been assigned, but I would. If my sisters and nieces weren't already related to me, I'd love them anyway. And on top of that, I have some amazing friends. The simple version of what I'm trying to say in way too many words: I feel loved. And if feels great.

Manufactured productivity...

After spending four months in a high-pressure, 24/7, getting-up-at-5am-to-read-the-news-online job, I clearly had adrenaline withdrawal. Which looks something like the following:

*Wake up at 8am. Roll over. Go back to sleep.
*Wake up again at 10am. Spend 30 minutes deciding whether or not to get out of bed.
*Get out of bed and make coffee (no need for auto brew now that I don't set alarm for 6am).
*Halfheartedly drink coffee, check email, and end up playing umpteen games of spider solitaire.
*Cold. Make a fire in fireplace. Try to do some writing, but it's so waaarrrrrrm now.
*Shut down computer before noon and nap.
*Wake up around 3. Hate daytime television. If no food in house, go to store. If lazy, call for chinese takeout.
*Consider taking a second nap around 6pm. So. Tired.
*Eat, don't eat, don't care.
*TV is boring, try to read. Reading is boring. Watch TV.
*Phone rings. Don't even get up to answer...they'll leave a message.
*Remember back in college when you used to get high and watch cartoons. Feel nostalgic. Do that.
*Adult Swim is on Cartoon Network until at least 2am.
Repeat.

OK, so there's been a holiday in between and I actually have done a good job of keeping up with dishes and laundry, but none of that takes as much time as a 12-hour day working on a political campaign. And since four months is enough time to develop a habit, you know it's really over when political news on CNN or MSNBC just sounds like noise. Boring noise.

I was supposed to "take it easy" between now and the end of the year. That was the plan. But "taking it easy" shouldn't mean "sleep all effing day long." I think that's a symptom of depression, or in my case, adrenaline withdrawal. I need something else- a deadline, a crisis (not wishing, Universe, hear?), or a $750 bill for 30,000-mile maintenance on my Honda - to get my ass off the couch and start working again.

This week I started getting it together. I made an appointment for my car (see above "maintenance on my Honda." I committed to having lunch with a friend next week. I called my sister just to talk. I've had several conversations with friends and family about whether or not I should get a puppy (working from home again = perfect opportunity, no?). I paid all of my bills early. I bought stamps. I did some "real" grocery shopping (meaning not just dinner, but a week or more of meals), I updated my resume, I called Earthlink for the umpteenth time about my slow-ass "fast-access DSL" that I pay $65 a month for (finally got a straight answer on that one instead of them selling me another modem: slowdown is from "additional customers in broadband area and they are going to expand my line." Hello, could you have told me this a YEAR ago when I first starting calling about it? Pissed off.), updated Netflix queue, wrote a couple of blog posts, had lunch with mom and sister and nephew, downloaded Hemingway short stories on audio vols 1, 2 and 3 and listen while cleaning house, and once this week I made my bed.

There is still much to do. I have a guest room that needs cleaning, holiday shopping, puppy shopping, and need to start writing again regularly - even if only in the form of blog posts here.

My narrow escape from mall jail...

Aleigh and I were at the Southpark Mall on Sunday (my favorite shopping mecca when in Charlotte). During our trip, we went into the Apple store to ooh and ahh over the coolness (don't judge me...we still don't have any Apple stores in Charleston) and on our way out I noticed that the window display had MY very same pink Nano in the window. I might have squealed a little bit, as I love my iPod more than I love some of my family members. Al decided to take a detour into the women's room, so while I was standing there I decided to snap a photo of the window display with my digital camera.
As soon as I pulled out my camera, a little man (you can see part of him to the far right of the photo) wearing a mall security guard uniform came up to me and mumbled something.

"What?" (I said as I snapped some photos.)

"You caint take pitchers in the mall."

"Why?"

"You caint take pitchers."

I raised my eyebrow into the "you didn't answer my damn question" position.

He put his hand on his "holster" of what I assume was pepper spray.

I nodded toward a nearby common area where a family who clearly had never been to a mall before was madly snapping photos of each other. "So no one can take photos in this mall? Or is it just me?"

"You caint take pitchers of stores."

"Really? I guess you have to put me in mall jail then." I laughed like I was joking, but I really wasn't because I thought it might be fun to be "detained" by the mall police. Can you call them police? They can't carry firearms.

He walked away, presumably to go tell the family from Bumf*ck, NC, that they "caint take pitchers in the mall." I snapped a few more before putting my camera away, just to be a bitch.

Everybody needs a little time away....

I am having a mini-vacation (back to work on Wednesday). I'm in Charlotte right now and today there were several hours during which I did not a) check my email, b) look at my blackberry, or c) know what time it was. Aleigh and I were in the middle of Target and I realized that I didn't know if it was 3 o'clock, 5 o'clock, earlier, later. No idea. Fish tacos for lunch, some shopping, manis and pedis (they're very summery pink), a visit to my favorite store in Charlotte, Paper Skyscraper, hanging out with the dogs in the backyard, chopping a big platter of veggies while Al made Caprese salad (buffalo mozzarella, tomatoes, basil from the garden, olive oil), and now I'm sitting with my feet propped up on a big stack of books that I plan to read this weekend. After we watch the Passion of Ayn Rand (we're both Rand geeks).

Tomorrow: Brunch, shopping at the Southpark Mall (Sephora! Joseph Beth Booksellers!), lounging, reading, frittering away some time, watching videos on my new favorite iPod Nano toy, taking the dogs for a walk, and forgetting where my watch is.

Must stay away from mall...

This is my third attempt this week at posting something that doesn't make me sound like a grinch. I really do love the holidays, I'm just feeling a bit inundated. Overwhelmed. Holiday-ed out, and I haven't really done any shopping yet. It's the commercials, the Muzak, the decorations that have been up since Halloween, the non-stop screeching of "deck the halls" and "favorite things" from holiday carol CDs in the office, the "buy buy buy" TV commercials and inane news stories about making your own gifts or recycling gifts or buying better gifts on the morning programs.

And all of that does sound a bit grinchly, does it not? I do not want to stand in line, spend too much, shop until I drop, or enjoy great! holiday! savings! I don't want a last minute deal. I don't want to know what the rules of regifting are.

I really just want to hang out with my sisters and nieces and do family things. I want to make the chicken liver spread my sister Katie loves and sit on a fat couch with my fat nephew on my fat lap. I want to ride on my sister Karen's girlfriend's motorcycle until I can't feel my face because of the cold. I want to watch "It's a Wonderful Life" and "Miracle on 34th Street" with my niece Keri. I want to sing with my sister Kristin in our cartoon voices until the cat freaks out and hides. I want to start a "who's going to cry?" family betting pool.

I'm going to enjoy the hell out of my time off this year.

What happens in Savannah stays in Savannah...

Which is why I can't go into great detail about my most recent vacation. What I can tell you is that it involved four days in a gorgeous apartment off of Washington Square, lots of giggling, an extremely quick trip to Tybee (no offense to regular Tybee-goers, but y'all, it was yucky), shopping and some more shopping, walking, seafood eating, grilling steaks in our lovely courtyard, disco dancing at a CVS, and more shopping.


This is my favorite photo of my friends, taken at the beach on Tybee. As soon as I snapped the pic, we got the heck out of there as fast as we could (before someone tried to sell us weed and/or confederate flags).

What makes my heart happy...

This week:
* I'm going to be on vacation after today for a whole week and plan on at least three of those days being without email, cell phone, or any connection to the outside world. It's not a cool trip to Alaska or anything, just a bid to get my creative mojo working again.
* The Heroes premiere is tonight. Yes, I am all geeked out about a television show.
* I have a giant stack of books to take with me, including The Mistress’s Daughter by A.M. Homes, There’s A Slight Chance I Might Be Going To Hell by Laurie Notaro, Varieties of Disturbance: Stories by Lydia Davis, and The Collected Stories of Amy Hempel. And if I run out of books before vacation is over, Sabrina let me borrow The Last Days of Dead Celebrities by Mitchell Fink (morbidly fascinating, I know, but I can't help it).
* Girls' weekend in Savannah. Three girls, four days, you fill in the rest.

A wedding recap...

It was on a farm in the mountains.
Asheville is pretty.
Our B&B was beyond gorgeous (hello, big ass feather bed!).
The Fun Girls were there.
The wedding itself was very Aleigh & Ian (and if you don't know them, you'll have to take my word for it. It was on a lovely farm in the mountains of North Carolina.

I met a llama (and for those of you who have been reading my blog for some time, you know that the llama is my spirit animal and I am a llama whisperer).

There was much merriment. Erin gives her version here. And if you gather from her post that I was the uptight finger wagging one on the trip, you're sorely mistaken. I was just the only one not drinking. But Jemima knows I can be trouble (make sure you read through to the part about where I tell Ian's brother-in-law that I have a good divorce lawyer on speed dial...ON VIDEO).

The only thing that was missing from our weekend was that Aleigh couldn't stay with us too! Of course, there was the getting married thing and the husband-to-be and all. So I'm about to be really, disgustingly mushy right now. You might want to sit down for this one. Even though weddings (and marriage) aren't my thing, I am so happy to have been part of my Gal Pal Al's nuptials. It's rare to know two people who are so perfectly matched, and to share in the beginning of a long and happy union. Yes, I did cry at the wedding. Because I was happy. And if you don't believe me, Jem took a photo. Bizzatch.

If you need immediate assistance, you're out of luck...

I've been on vacation all week and am now getting ready to leave for Asheville for my friend Aleigh's lovely wedding. There will be a carriage house, a rehearsal dinner, some Asheville sightseeing, and a wedding on a farm in the mountains. I won't be back until Tuesday of next week, so in lieu of a vacation post, I'll leave you with the following list (even though I'm not technically being a house guest this week, I have often been a house guest and hope to be one again in the future):

Why I am a poor houseguest...
I do not make the bed when I leave. (a) I assume my host will want to wash the sheets after I leave so they will be clean for the next guest, therefore making the bed is a waste of time and (b) I am spoiled and rarely make my own bed.

I leave odd things behind, like glitter, cat hair, and ominous quotes scribbled on Post-Its ("Sometimes you just have to pee in the sink." ~Charles Bukowski).

I smoke on the front porch in my pajamas and I don't care what your neighbors think.

I hog the television remote and insist on watching cartoons from around 11pm to 1am.

I feed your dog french fries until it farts, then complain about the smell.

There. I feel better. Now that I've put it all out there, let me also add that I try to balance out my faults by being entertaining, buying dinner (even if it's only a sack of tiny burgers from Krystal), and leaving good things like caramel crunch trail mix and Xanax behind. That said, I'm open to any invitations for the summer that might involve your guest room in your apartment in Paris, your country home, or being a third wheel for the weekend at your cabin in the mountains.