Thanks a Bunch.

Having finally just recovered from a most memorable birthday, I can now sit down with you, a little wiser, and a little older. 

Okay, getting older doesn't feel much different. 

I was twenty-two, now I'm twenty-three, and all that's different is that my tolerance for alcohol consumption went up a little, boys still disappoint me (like that lame tall guy that asked for my number and then proceeded to never text me), and that having good friends makes for one hell of a party.

See, normally for my birthday, I go fishing. Typical Alaskan, am I right?

But this year was different. I was out on my own, I was an adult, and I wanted to celebrate me.

I'm not typically someone who goes out for her own birthday, but I was feeling spontaneous, a little rebellious, and I wanted to toast this birthday with old and new friends alike. 

So we went out. We ate, drank, laughed, and had a marvelous evening together and it honestly felt so good to be surrounded by people that have become my friends in just a few short months of being here (as well as the old).

And it was a ball.

So I thank you bunches for helping me slide into my twenty-third year with all the grace, confidence, and tipsy giggling a girl like me could ask for.

I'm excited to see what the year has in store...

 

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The Good Stuff.

Maybe it was the parking spot.

Perhaps it was being able to have not one but two very satisfying breakfasts, the second being in Cole Valley all dressed to the nines in my vintage finest. 

I think maybe it was just waking up with a positive attitude.

Whatever it was, it was during my time spent at said restaurant in Cole Valley that whilst waiting for my breakfast, I pulled out my journal and began to write. Other tables were busy scrolling Instagram or invested in their Macbooks, but I'm an old fashioned gal and I prefer to pass the time doing things that actually add value to my life.

And so I wrote. 

Normally, I'm either writing about the past trying to catch up (I am forever behind in journaling) or writing what I like to call “side notes”. Side notes are essentially right here, right now entries that are usually done when I'm incredibly sad, angry, heartbroken, insecure, or lonely. 

This morning at breakfast, I wrote a side note, except instead of being filled with any of the above feelings, I was writing with a sense of peace. I was happy, comfortable, at ease, and feeling pretty darn good about life.

To which I reminded myself that I shouldn't just write when I need to catch up or share my deepest darkest feelings, but that I should also make sure to capture the good stuff that happens to. 

I think I often forget about the little things in life that actually make me happy. I'm normally so focused on figuring out my problems and sifting through what's wrong with me that I get blind sighted by the fact that a lot of good things actually happen in my life.

Here are a few examples of some good that recently happened and the lovely things I saw in the world.

On the way to work, I was walking on Haight Street and found seven pennies (all heads up), a nickel, and a dime. That's pure cash profit right there.

I was sitting on Bart on one of my commutes home and in front of me sat a very stylish married man listening to Leon Bridges and bobbing his head. This guy's got some serious class and his wife is a lucky woman.

When I was working at Relic, a British family came in and a little girl sat on the couch and pulled out Winnie the Pooh. I nearly cried.

My friend Marissa was venting to me about boys and after listening patiently and being honest in my responses, she said I was a really good friend. Me?

I was on the freeway yesterday, stuck in traffic getting on the Bay Bridge and when I let a Prius through, the driver rolled down his window and waved his thanks to me. You're welcome.

I mean, that's a lot of good stuff happening in my world!

Everything is copy, and though I write a lot about things that cause me pain and anguish (as a way of healing), I can't forget that there's equal amounts of good stuff happening to me at the same time and that they shouldn't go unnoticed.

Maybe if I spend as much time writing about the good as the bad, my perspective might change and I could be working on getting better at the same time. 

As with most things I’m trying to work on, it takes balance in order for things to run smoothly. And if I allow my journal to be witness to my downs then it should also be witness to my highs.  

With that, I’ll sign off with a smile on my face, a mysterious smirky smile well accompanied by a fabulous dress and pearls... 

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