Author: ladyquirky

Learning to live life as an adventure.

Turbulence

~ ladyquirky ~ Leave a comment

I have never been on a particularly rough flight. I was mistakenly under the impression turbulence was a random shudder or jolt of the aircraft. Yesterday I had my first experience of “weather” in the air. 
Remember those amusement park rides with the boat that swings back and forth in a continuously enlarging swoop, gaining speed with each pass? The moment the boat shifts direction and your body is still moving with the inertia of flight the other way. The seemingly insufficient safety bar is the only reason you are not launched into oblivion and certain doom. I hate that ride. I hate it almost as much as the Sombrero ride that goes up and down in a circle. It’s the same feeling. The moment of weightlessness before your body is jerked into submission by the mechanical devil seeking to “thrill” you into having a good time. 

The nausea inducing sensation of the body without steady ground to stand on is the worst feeling in the world. I realized during my rough flight I experience this sensation anytime I am anxious. Throw me into a new situation when I do not know the expectations and I am left with a lurching, spinning, falling gut. My mouth fills with bile and I get a cold sweat across my forehead. My hands become clammy and shockingly unsteady. I feel like my knees are going to buckle under the sheer force of gravity. It makes it hard to maintain a cool demeanor. Forget about cracking jokes and being clever. I am reduced to a sweaty, jittery fool. I lose my voice and my confidence. I forget how to pronounce words. I fantasize about a giant hole opening up and sliding down into a wonderland where I can forget all my troubles. I want to give up and find a familiar place. I need someone to hold my hand and tell me I am smart. Anything to ease the incompetence oozing from my pores. 

Yesterday, I sat frozen in my airline seat, trying mightily to stay calm. No one else appeared particularly concerned. The guy next to me was reading. I had the urge to punch him in the nose to see if he bled. I was convinced he was some sort of cyborg. There is no way a human could read George R.R. Martin under these conditions. He is obviously a freak of nature with an iron stomach. 

The gentle swaying back and forth was immensely more uncomfortable than the violent jerks when the plane seemed destined to be thrown out of the sky. Forget freefalling. This plane was going to be batted down out of the air by the invisible fist of an angry God. Apparently I am still religious while in the air. The pilot keep coming on the speaker muttering unintelligible updates about bad winds and weather in the distance. He continued to offer assurances of smooth air in the near, but ever further future. I had decided he must be some sort of sadist, offering me hope in this manner. After about 19 hours of dispair, we found the smooth air. (Amazing since it was a five hour trip.) 

It turns out turbulence is not only experienced while one is strapped into a metal tube hurtling high above humanity. I experience it on a fairly frequent occasion. I am hoping to learn to quell my terror and learn to work through the sensations, all while keeping my wits about me. Perhaps I can even learn to be clever while I force my body to stop trembling and remember to wipe the condensation from my palms before I shake this stranger’s hand. 

Who Knew?

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I no longer have to worry if I am too much or not enough. I get to be exactly who I want to be at this moment. It no longer matters how I used to define success. 

Obviously I continue to have to remind myself to be true to me. I get sidetracked easily. I let negativity leach it’s way through my pores. Happiness is a decision I have to make. 

I wonder if there are people who just exist in a peaceful state. I wonder if they spend as much time questioning their own motives as I do. Introspection is exhausting. 

It’s counterintuitive how much work it takes to be comfortable being myself. I suppose I spent too many years imagining what other people must think of me. You want to know the most profound thing I have realized? They don’t think of me. People don’t sit around thinking about my failings unless they directly affect them. This brings me comfort. 

Embarking on my next adventure. California, here I come. Ink, yoga, and friends for the next week. I can’t wait! 

Oh, I need to get some sunblock. Don’t forget the sunblock. 

Carry On

~ ladyquirky ~ 4 Comments

I’m always going to be the girl who grew up in a small west Texas town. I’ll always feel a thrill when I see the lights and traffic of “the big city.” I hope I never lose my fascination and awe of the places I see. 

I still talk to my “Momma” every day, even if it is just a call to tell her I will talk to her tomorrow. 

My life has become a whirlwind of adventures and wandering. I still need a home base. For now I want it to be at home with my family. 

This does not mean I am done exploring or I am wanting to settle down into the monotony of a regular life. No, I love this new life of mine. I am stronger and more confident. I am excited about the future. I am going to continue roaming around and finding humanity. 

There was a time I thought I was on a quest for self-improvement. I was wrong. It was self-actualization I needed. I think I may have managed to find me. I like her. 

Exceeding Expectations

~ ladyquirky ~ 1 Comment

Sitting here eating “Malibu Enchiladas” and basking in the glow of memory. The soundtrack is the songs from the mid to late 90s. The songs I lived when I was still a kid, still on the cusp of finding out who I would become as an adult. 

The soundtrack of our lives is such a good way to remember the past. I find myself singing along to words and melodies which escape my every day life. It was a nice walk down memory lane. 

I am so glad I did not become landlocked into the person I thought I would become. I get to be so much more today. I am infinitely stronger than I ever imagined I would could be. I am thrilled to report I exceeded all my greatest expectations. 

Rules? What Rules? 

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I gotta be honest, I’m tired of telling myself to play by the rules. I don’t even know what rules I’m trying to follow. 

The interesting part comes when I decide I don’t want to subscribe to my old way of thinking and I realize I do not have a new playbook. I try to compensate by coming up with arbitrary moral ideas about right and wrong. I try to prove to myself I am indeed a good person. All I have to do is follow the rules. 

The key to happiness lies in how well I can beat my soul into submission. I have to ignore who I think I want to be. That is the responsible thing to do. All I want out of life is to be the girl who has learned her lessons and turned her life around. I want redemption. I want to be the kind of person my family can be proud of. Granted, my family never laid out any expectations other than they want me to be happy but I manage to convince myself I have not earned their pride. Wait, my mother did remind me the other day not to say f*** on Facebook. 

The lack of actual direction and goals leaves me unmoored and anxious. There is no victory or success to quiet my unrest. I have to do more, work harder, and prove myself to myself. 

No matter how much I accomplish, I have certainly never been impressed. 

If something is difficult and I work my ass off to learn it, I am stupid and it should not be this hard. Things that come easily to me are no big deal and anyone should be able to accomplish it. I am hellbent on achieving greatness. The problem is I do have no idea what that looks like. 

Praise is not genuine or deserved and criticism gets blown completely out of proportion and I am an utter failure. My imaginary rules and ideas of personal success slowly kill me. I become antisocial and only work or spend time alone. I am incapable of being myself. I am either overbearing and calous or standoffish and aloof. I have no idea how to carry on a casual conversation. I am so full of resentment I can only rant or sullenly glare at people. 

I continue to compare myself to a mythical ever- changing ideal. No matter how many step I take, the finish line will perpetually keep moving farther away. I torture myself for my failures and push everyone away. 

Oh. Wait. No, I don’t do this as much anymore. I try to allow myself room to breathe and grow. I foster relationships with new friends. I allow myself to be vulnerable and it no longer feels like the world is crumbling at my feet. I can navigate my way through most professional situations without completely embarrassing myself. Except that one time, but it was justified. Kinda. 

My family and friends have not disappointed me. They still stand by me and support me completely. They laugh at my stories and encourage all my adventures. They are still on my side. I don’t have to be perfect. None of them could even help me define the rules anyway. 

I’m not living a life without order and responsibility, I just do not allow myself the extravagance of continually beating my head into the brick wall of my own expectations. The self- imposed regulations of how I think a woman in my position should be no longer apply to me. 

I get to decide every day what adventure to embark on. I get to choose how I live, love, work, and play. I can change my mind anytime I want. 

Who needs rules? Let’s just be decent and caring people. I bet it will lead to great things. 

Fun

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You know the guy, the one who manages to make every single encounter an absolute bore? The guy who never smiles at your silly little puns or laughs at your hilarious jokes. The guy who manages to suck the fun out of every conversation. Don’t be that guy. 

I finally realized life is too short to walk around miserable day in, day out. I want to have fun. Sure, there are many areas of everyday life reeking of monotony and drudgery but why do we have to be miserable while we carry on with the chores of living?  

I still struggle with a fatalistic outlook and frequently have to remind myself to look for the adventure. I never said having fun was going to be easy. I continue to battle anxiety and dread when I sit back and evaluate exactly what I am doing with my life. I have not actually figured very much out at all. 

Today, I will remember to have fun. Even if I hate every moment of it. 😜

Prince

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I must admit I am very sad at the loss of Prince today. He was a superhero rock star to me. He was the guy everyone loves to sing along with. 

He managed to talk about sex and music without making it creepy. It was just hot. 

I never got to see him perform. This serves as a lesson and a reminder for me: go see the shows you want to see. Don’t ever feel guilty for going. Music is important. 

It’s worth every penny I spend to experience the excitement of falling in love with a song with the rest of the audience. I would not trade that moment for anything. 

Allergic to Everything

~ ladyquirky ~ 2 Comments

 

This is what Wikipedia says antihistimines look like

I look like death. 

Coughing, sneezing, sniffling, eyes watering, grumpy, nose dripping death. 

This happens to me every year. I am allergic to everything. I was supposed to start allergy shots and talked myself out of it. Maybe I should have listened to the doctor. 

Ugh. The next person who asks me if I am sick is going to get a snotty tissue thrown at them. It’s allergies! I’m just a big baby about it. I assure you, I’m fine. Now, stop talking to me. I am planning a funeral for the tender sore spot under my nose.  

Love or Something Like It

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Feelings. Butterflies. Content. Excited. Happy. Satisfied. Comfortable. Relaxed. 

I don’t know what love is supposed to be like. I’ve spent a lot of time over the years assuming I was just not capable of experiencing it. 

When I can be the unedited version of me and still be comfortable when I am with you, it’s love. When I don’t feel like I owe you a smile, it’s love. When I don’t worry about saying the right thing, it’s love. If I don’t feel like I have to hide who I am at that moment, it’s love. 

When I can accept you for everything you are and everything you are not, it’s love. When you touch me and I don’t have to question your motives, it’s love. 

Sometimes the best way to describe this feeling is to just acknowledge how I feel when I am with you. I am simply me. I don’t feel like I have to perform some ritual to deserve you. I don’t have to figure out the games and all the rules. You make me feel like I can be honest and genuine. This is the best feeling I have ever had. I suppose that is why I feel like this must be love, or something kinda like it. 

Road tripping

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I love road trips.

This past week I drove from Western Massachusetts to Chicago to visit one of my closest friends. It was a fourteen hour drive not including my pitstops. 

This time is sacred to me. I can think, daydream, listen to music and podcasts, and just leave everything else behind me. I can’t do anything but drive and let my mind wander. I can only do what I can do, I have to allow myself to make steady progress. There is absolutely no way I am getting there any faster than I am going to. 

It’s a relief. 

So much of my time is spent feeling pressured to hurry up and accomplish something. Hurry up and be successful. Hurry up and get your shit together. 

It’s funny. I have no idea what any of those things look like. The only thing I know is I need to hurry up and figure it all out. 

Driving gives me a chance to take a step back. I have a destination but it is okay if the road has detours. The detours can be the best part of the whole trip. 

My favorite part of this picture is how clearly the rearview mirror image contrasts with the view in front. I can’t always see where I am headed but if I take time to look back it will be clear where I have been.