Still Packing

The house is an obstacle course. In the past few days I've managed to repeatedly injure myself. None of these injuries are bad (in fact the worst happened outside the home), but they consistently remind me to be careful. Bags of clothes are on the floor, surrounded by boxes, surrounded by school bags. Some of these things are packed, some need to be sorted, others haven't been touched yet. I know doing a bit each day is the smart way to do this, but it makes for a different type of stress.

In other packing related news, I've come across quite a few things from my past that have given me hope for the future. Positive reminders about who I once was, what was once important to me, and what I still have in common with that girl from years ago.

I wish I could contact her, and say don't worry Past Maile, it get's better. You become comfortable in your own skin, and the things that make you self conscience turn out to be the things you love about yourself. You will make friends, true friends. You will share your writing with others. You will go back to school. You will meet a guy who cares. You'll even move to San Francisco, just like you wanted. You will get through the growing pains. And, p.s. Past Maile, they're totally normal. Everyone has growing pains, even the people who appeared to have it all together.

I wish I could tell her not to worry so much. Hell, I wish I could tell Present Maile not to worry so much.

If you could contact your past self, what would you say to them? What words of wisdom would you offer yourself at 10? At 15? At 20? How have you changed, and in what ways have you stayed the same?

I think exploring this is one of my favorite parts about the moving process. Even if it can be painful at times.


Past Maile, before she became a ball of insecurity.

Happy New Year!

It's 2012. The year of the move. The year of change. January will be huge for us. I start my graduate program through Southern New Hampshire University, we move, Leonard starts at San Francisco State, and somewhere in there I start at a new restaurant. A month where starting a graduate program is the least stressful part of the equation.

But, if you'll forgive a little melancholy dear readers, today is a bit difficult for me. We were supposed to be on the road. Right now. I was supposed to be well past the grapevine, on the stretch of the 5 that is nothing but fields and cows. Our shiny new city apartment should have been waiting for me. Instead our move date was pushed back two weeks, and while this is definitely a good thing (seriously, what was I thinking wanting to move during the holidays), it still manages to sting a little bit.

For the next two weeks, we're on borrowed time. We're going to pack, and we're going to visit with friends. I'm going to work a little longer, which I know my restaurant is grateful for. But I also have to fight the blues.

As some of you know, I'm fairly good with dates. At one point in my life, I could tell you exactly what I was doing a year ago to the day. My inability to do this now has less to do with my memory, and more to do with the fact that my life is a bit more mundane than it was when I was 20. And happier, Lord am I happier. So every day that I'm down here, a part of me will wonder what alternate reality Maile is doing in San Francisco. It this the day she was going to start working? Did she just discover an amazing used bookstore? Is she just sitting with Mowgli, just looking out the window?

In other news, I'd like to puff up my feathers and share that I did pretty well with my resolutions for 2011. Not as great as I'd like, but I throughout the year I made active strides toward them all. I did have a great workout plan in the earlier half of the year. I did find a job outside of the restaurant industry. I did declutter my life, and I was accepted to a graduate program.

2012? Aside from learning San Francisco, I only have two resolutions. One is the standard, get back to the gym. The other is a little more personal. I'm going to write a book.

I'm getting to December 21st with at least one item crossed off my bucket list.