Youre Really Doin It, Arent Ya
40 weeks ago:
Are you laughing? Because I am. Not because 40 weeks ago I told everyone in the Instagram world that I was moving "very soon!", but because it's ACTUALLY happening. It's REAL. WOAH. Before I get into that, let's talk about this:
December 22, 2014 - Drafted Blog entitled "LA, Here to Stay", never posted:
"If you're going through your list of New Years Resolutions for this year and ugly crying, you're not alone.
Seriously, if you wrote down a list of resolutions, go take a peek at 'em. How'd you do? Since this is a truly one-sided conversation I think I'll take over from here and tell you about my year.
I prayed into 2014. The clock struck midnight, and I was talking to the Lord. That was absolutely wonderful. I had no idea of what to expect for this year, but boy did it hit me in the face. It just slapped me like it didn't even care. But its cool because this year, guys, it was beautiful. In the ugliest way. It was so hard. It was a growing-up year. It was going from turning 19 to turning 32. (20 but you get it, I feel old and stuff.)
Anyway, I feel that the beautiful thing about resolutions is that you get to reflect on how your year went. If you didn't meet your goals, you get to look back and understand why. You get to realize that those goals were never supposed to happen. You can realize what the purpose of those goals not being met was.
At the beginning of this year I thought I would be moved out of my dads house, making enough money to support myself with wedding photography."
That's clearly when I got tired and/or needed to go make coffee and forgot I what I was doing. But holy crap, I'm so glad I get to read this now. And make a few observations. And reflections. And jokes about thinking I felt old when I turned 20.
I'll do all this in the form of a letter to myself because Sara Bareilles told me to. (Even though I did that before she wrote her book, so.) Oh also I haven't packed up my room or cleaned out my car and I just realized this and I don't care because I was gonna finish this anyway. I still have coffee to drink and Justin Bieber is serenading me so we all know I'm not even allowed to leave the house. It's the law.
Hello. It's me. I was wondering if after all these words, you'd like to read, to go over everything. (Am I allowed to laugh at myself while writing this? No? Yes? Shut up.) Let's start where you began that blog draft,
"If you're going through your list of New Years Resolutions for this year and ugly crying, you're not alone."
Well, darling, you must know ugly crying is normal. Even Helen from Bridesmaids is an ugly crier. So you had that going for you. You thought 2014 was really hard. And it was, it really was. But I need to prepare you for 2015. It may look shiny and exciting, and even though you hate the number 15, I know you're excited for it. 2015 is going to kick your ass even harder, though. It IS going be the greatest year yet, but listen:
You're going to spend a modest 1,100+ hours in the car alone, where you'll start to question your sanity. And that's valid. Looking back now, you did scare me for a second on a few occasions. Like, stop picking your nose, and also, people can hear you doing karaoke on the freeway. You are not in a recording booth at Capitol Records. You're in a 2005 Honda Element. So yeah, maybe you are insane. And so is everybody else. Don't try to fix other people's insanity, don't try to understand it, either. You'll learn a lot about what you can control (yourself).
You'll learn to be less afraid of your own honesty. You'll take a look at your heart while you're feeling certain things and express yourself. And no one is going to bite you. They'll be glad. You can't stop yourself from messing up because you will always mess up at some point. You'll learn to be better next time.
You'll fervently look for apartments when you get a job in Santa Monica. You'll almost move into a dungeon where you would have been terrified to the point of tears every single night. Then your car will break down and you'll have to restart on saving. And you'll cry happy tears knowing you can wait. I'm proud of you for that.
I'm also proud of you for a few other things. This year you're about to live is going to teach you so much, and you're willing to listen for what feels like the first time. So I'm proud of you, you stubborn douche.
Even though you'll start the New Year giving back all the whiskey and champagne you drank back to the earth out of your best friends car window, there is so much good ahead. Be patient and hope for it. Stop trying to control everything. Never stop learning. Don't let yourself think you know it all. You never will. And another thing, 2015 isn't over yet. So. Here, take my hand. Let's go together into 2016. Hell, let's just move in together! I don't want you to forget these things, nor do I want to lose any "living for the moment" crap by reflecting too much. You teach me and I'll teach you. You give me cookie I give you cookie. Also, I really need to get to Staples before it closes. And pack up my room. We movin' to LA tomorrow, baby! Let's do dis.
I love you. Thanks for learning to loving me back.
So that's my letter to myself. Take from it what you will. Do one for yourself. Tell your insecurities to f off and love the soft spots in your heart for what they are. Teach people how to love you by being honest about what you need. No one can read your mind, dear. And don't let them try, either. Reflect on your year and take it for what it is. Look at the hard stuff face to face and tell it how it made you better - or how it will make you better. Don't let it define you or create excuses for your insanity.
If all of this means absolutely nothing to you, that's great too. I didn't write a letter to you. Adele did. Take it up with her. I have to go move now.
Cheers, Brothers & Sisters. Xoxo.