Me and Luda are on a Luda basis. NBD.

Do I usually watch you? I'm thinking I don't.

We have a big night coming up with the premiere of The Bachelorette tomorrow. Prior to that my inner dance freak will be pirouetting over the season finale of Dancing with the Stars.

HOWEVER, I have decided to still comment on the 2014 Award Show No One Really Cares About - known as the Billboard Music Awards. Maybe people care? Maybe I am just super country-centric and therefore figure that if it is not the CMA Awards or the Grammy's, we don't care? But for all intents and purposes, tonight we are going to care, together, in real time. So here we go. 

The whole freakin moon just shot out of JLo's finger.

Right out the gate, it seems to me like Pitbull sings the same song and does the same performance at every award show, all the time. 17 Latin girls gyrate behind him. He prances around, bouncing that beautiful bald head, on occasion singing in tune and of course throwing in some Rosetta Stone action.

We finally see some spice when Mr. Clean tosses it to my girl crush JLo who is so magical that stars and shit are flying from her hips and hands - lots of power in that booty. Another pair of boobs completes the latin trio opener. Somewhere, Juan Pablo is drooling. The one big takeaway from this performance - "we are one" multicultural booty drop away from a strip club.

It had to be done.

Okay... so who is this hosting? That rapper dude. Luda-something... oh right. Ludacris (thanks google). His enunciation is a bit intense. Why are you reprimanding me with your intro?

OH HERE'S MY GIRL SHANIA. Don't need to google how to spell her name. She is presenting Top Rock Album which is a bit... unexpected. But she looks hot. Wow... I actually know some of these songs. Good for me...Imagine Dragons takes it home. We have Jesus in a Elvis inspired wind-breaker, and three other dudes. Very eloquent speech.

Just the son of God in a spunky jacket. NBD.

I freakin LOVE One Republic. I saw them at Fontanel last summer and I seriously had the best night jumping around like a crazy person. They truly rock live. His hair is a bit flock of seagulls but hey, he is actually singing and in tune. I just have to wonder if the stars he is counting are the same ones shooting out of JLo's ass.... hmm...

Who are these Latin "Hit Me Baby One More Time" wannabes? I guess furbies on your sneakers and making chewbacca sounds is "fancy?" Who knew. Ariana Grande looks like an Oreo cookie / Nascar race flag (couldn't decide). She can actually sing which I appreciate. That half-up hairstyle she always sports is a little tired, though. Try a full on pony just for shits and giggles?

 BK -  For the love of God, buy some real pants.

You cannot escape the success FGL has had this past year - one of their 15 current singles is constantly on the radio in a loop. And here they are proudly representing Nashville and how "we" roll - except let's set the record straight - their wardrobe is NOT how we roll. Tyler's shirt ties up like a corset and Brian's ripped up T and grass-stained pants look like he just filmed a scene in a zombie apocalypse movie. A bit confused about that situation.

Shakira's hips still don't lie. And as a side note, I think she would make a stellar ventriloquist - how is all of that sound coming out of that tiny mouth that barely opens... When she goes up in pitch her mouth just closes in tighter. It's bizarre. Oh that high note at the end saw a little tonsil... I retract.

Billboard 200 Album - I hope Beyonce wins so that Kanye doesn't shoot anyone. What a versatile category. Oh wait, JT is my man. He better win.... Kanye will just have to DEAL. YAY --- JT is overseas... but he is super excited. So are the all the fancy restaurant waiters behind him.

Maybe try actually reading with those glasses...

Kendall Jenner... what just happened?! I think we just saw her have a mini-stroke, coming up for air just in time to tell America she is the worst reader ever....?! We need to get her and John Travolta in a class together to work this presenting thing out.

Luda wants you to make noise. All the time. Just in case you were wondering. And yes - I am giving myself permission to call him Luda (even though at the start of this post I googled how to spell his name).

Disney Princess meets Black Swan

Carrie freakin Underwood. Just stop it. You're so flawless. Your face is a little too spray-tanned but I'm going to give you a pass since everything else is perfect, always. And for contrast - Lorde wins, and she is wearing a gorilla... so really, YOU win. She is quite eloquent in her speech though. This has got to be a Gaga thing.. dress insane and let the talent speak for itself or something? Bizarre.

Wha?!

And in that same camp we have Katy Perry wearing a hot pink raincoat and slime green pigtails. Oh, and a circus threw up on her stockings... correction...body suit. It's like the human manifestation of an acid trip. Hate to pop your balloon KP but you just abandoned that little birthday girl you dragged on stage to sit by herself surrounded by a crew of doodle bops. She now wishes she was not born.

Imagine Dragons - I enjoy them. One dude has a mustache. The lead singer has a shirt decorated with black string tape. We will overlook this because the drumming up front is kind of mesmerizing.

Let's take a moment to discuss all cut-in audience shots. They are always SUPER awkward - the person never quite knows the words and / or is Taylor Swift doing the robot (who I haven't seen yet by the way... where is she?!) In this case - the words "Nobody else can take me higher" caught on real quick so the audience knows what to do with their mouth. Success.

Luke Bryan just won for the Flint River song. Phillip and him go to Flint River all the time y'all. That is how they roll. Then they proceed to have a very deep conversation in the award exit all about catfish dinners, I assume.

Keisha looks lovely and then opens her mouth and all of that elegance just flies far far away to that magical place where her brain lives. Brad rocks it. Luda makes sure every word cuts like a knife. And now we're about to see Michael Jackson?!

Nothing is shooting out of his fingers.... because he ISN'T REAL.

Holy shit this is FREAKY. Do you think the audience has 3D glasses for this?! I dont know how I feel..... I think I am going to land on feeling very weird inside about this. Pretty amazing technology but... yeah I'm still feeling weird. Maybe it's not the hologram at all, but rather the Egyptian alien storm troopers dancing around him?! Undecided.

Ricky Martin, I personally am glad you are still livin la vida loca. But are we sure this isn't the Latin Music Awards?! No need to tune into that show now - Billboard has it covered. He too is celebrating people of every nation. A very lyrically empowering theme I am noticing here among the Latin community. But hey - that's great. Better than whatever Luda probably "sings" about.

Luke wants us to play it again. Pretty standard. Back to this sponsored advertisement for Chevrolet and the milestone award with the Beyonce and Ellie Kemper wannabes (ooo low blow Kelly Rowland...my bad, my bad).

Channeling the tennis Gods?

Robin Thicke wins for best R&B song. Hope that award keeps him warm at night since those blurred lines got real kinds of clear when his beautiful wife left his dirty cheating ass. Oh wait - he just thanked his wife.... that was weird. I'm going to have to google the status of that later.

Now THIS is how we roll....

Lorde is another one of MJ's martians. Oh wait, it's just the shadow of a hat. This song is called Tennis Court.... not sure I'm getting the metaphor here. Too distracted by the possessed ticking to pay attention to the meaning...

Brad is back again announcing Carrie and Miranda and I am SUPER EXCITED about this performance of "Something Bad" - They look freakin hot and their bouncing is impressively synchronized with the exception of Carries rogue right knee dig. I have to say - I am not that into this song though.... a bit Aerosmith-esque which isn't bad, just not what I expected. But they're so hot who cares. Blake and the hockey dude are totally getting some later.

Disney would be so proud....

Streaming artist goes to Miley who has hot pink face stripes and a large mouth licking her boobs. I want to give her a hug and send her to rehab, but ya know - not my place. 

John Legend is just pure class, as is his gorgeous wife. He has such a velvet voice and we ladies are all secretly wishing we were Chrissy Teigen. Likely, so are our men because she is freakin hot.

Best country song goes to FGL - amazing and not surprising! Definitely support the wardrobe change to the classic black T and vest.

Let's fly to Manchester where Miley Cyrus is carrying the entire nation's inventory of tinsel for this Christmas on her shoulders. Her silver counterpart is licking the stage floor now.... things are getting weird and I have to fast forward. I don't do drugs for a reason.

Milestone award goes to Carrie Underwood - YAY. I am so excited for her!!!! I am not sure entirely what this award means, but hey - no more Chevrolet ads so that is a win all in itself.

Robin Thicke is singing about getting his woman back. Things are coming together now even without google. No lady back-up dancers - quite the stripped down performance where girls aren't stripping down... I'd say an improvement since the Miley foam-finger incident. Minus that moment on his knees where an audience member was forced to stare at his crotch. 

Artist of the Year goes to JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE. Love him. Oooooooh wow, he just made a Donald Sterling comment... there might be some strings attached to that one JT...

Exits are in the left and rear of the cabin.

Icon award goes to my girl JENNY FROM THE BLOCK. Wow - the first sight of Taylor happens here in the JLo behind the music section?! TSwift must be on tour or something...?! I might have to google that too.

Back to Jennifer - she is just all kinds of awesome. She could also be a kick ass flight attendant with those strong directional hand motions. Great performance and I think she is actually singing which is always impressive with that kind of hair-flipping and bodily movement happening on stage. With a little Ain't No Mountain High Enough mash-up.... yes....I'm in a good place. So proud to be a Jenny. Might need to google translate that one part in her speech but the rest was spot on (google should really pay me for all of these plugs... I mean right?!)

Luda. Out.

Jenny. Out. See ya tomorrow for THE BACHELORETTE!

Not in a New York state of mind

You, fair city, scare the shit out of me.

I was born in Newburgh, New York. For the first four years of my life, I was totally a New Yorker. I can see it now - toddler Jenny was as street as Sesame and as bad ass as orphan Annie, ready to conquer the world.

Then the softening began. First it was a subtle move to the small New England town of Newtown, CT. It was certainly a slower and sweeter way of life, but our proximity to the city meant frequent trips in and out of Manhattan, so much so that I was convinced I was going to attend NYU and become the next Broadway star. But at 15, in addition to the reality check that the Great White Way would not welcome my voice with the same standing ovation as my shower head, we moved to Cary, NC. That sweet, New England town was nothing compared to the sweet tea and warm sensibility of my new Southern home.

I have now officially been in the South for a decade, having moved to Nashville after college in NC. And I LOVE it. My blood has thinned, I have seamlessly integrated "y'all" into my vocabulary, and I can't say enough good things about the people, beauty and demeanor of the place I call home. It is a perfect fit for my personality. Don't get me wrong, I proudly claim my Northeast roots and I still have a special spot in my heart for the Big Apple. But now it is more like that long lost first love who in hindsight you see was all wrong for you, even though in the moment it seemed so right.

Proving some people DO smile in NYC.

This past week I traveled back to New York City for the first time in my adult life for both work and play. I celebrated Mother's day with my mom and sister under perfect skies, exploring the American Museum of Natural History and enjoying the breath-taking views of Central Park. We stayed at the swanky Empire Hotel overlooking Columbus Circle, and had some very delicious meals at Uva, The Smith and Porter House. I then kissed them goodbye and journeyed downtown to the financial district for the Mirren New Business Conference where I am learning a lot of great expertise in my craft and meeting some really cool people from around the country. And yet - I have never been more ready to come home (on Thursday to be exact). I simply didn't realize just how Southern I had become until coming back and experiencing the contrast.

What exactly do I mean?! Well, let's dig into just a few examples in a little list I'd like to call:  
Dear New York City - Why you do me like that?! 

1. This town is made for tiny little people with a shit ton of money - I swear, everything in this city is bite-sized, even when you are spending a good deal of cash on a hotel room or a meal. Tables in restaurants are squeezed within inches of each other, elevators are like phone booths and at one point, while simply trying to pee, I ended up kicking the hand-dryer on with my ass while I turned for toilet paper. In the hotel room, the standing shower didn't have a door and I dropped my toothpaste in the toilet, twice. I basically feel like My Giant trapped in an expensive glass case of frenetic emotion.

2. Mega phones are required for conversation - Piggy-backing on the small space issue, cram lots of people into these teeny spaces and you end up having to literally scream just to talk to the person across from you. It is exhausting, overwhelming, and strips the relaxation factor out of a nice dinner. You might escape to the tiny bathroom to hear yourself think, but then you end up kicking shit on with your ass again. There is simply no reprieve.

They say one positive outweighs 12 negatives. I give you four.

3. Ear plugs are essential to sleep - The honking just never stops and they are not "toot toots" - they are blown with the fury of a beast. The first night it was a cacophony of aggressive horn-blowing ALL NIGHT LONG. I know what you're thinking - duh, Jenny. It is a city and you're in a popular area on a Saturday night - what did you expect? BUT OH MY WORD. Take a car. Sit it outside your bedroom window. Then pay someone (which would be equivalent to paying a ton of money for a hotel room [thanks mom!]) to sit in your car and LAY ON THE HORN in five-Mississippi-second intervals. Feel free to mix up the duration of the beep. Some short, some long... quite the lullaby.

4. The New York State of Mind is... how shall I put this lightly.... NOT warm and fuzzy - Please forgive the sweeping generalization - I know there are a lot of warm and charming people here, but I have sadly not run into them. Instead, I just keep getting run into by a lot by people who don't look up and don't smile. I am literally like frogger just trying to avoid being blasted into by a complete stranger. And if you small talk or make little jokes to connect, people here just stare at you blankly likely you forgot to put on pants. Yet, no one is bashful or afraid of a fight. The lady at Starbucks was simultaneously taking my order as she was telling off her colleague and at the baggage claim upon my arrival, one lady was prepping to jump a old woman who was blocking her view. I swear getting my bag was like trying to get a lifeboat on the Titanic. 

5. Smells are everywhere. Some good. Some very very bad... all the smells. Turn one corner and you might whiff the delicious scents wafting from a food truck. Or you might smell a burning bag of dog poop. If you are not someone prepared for all smells at all times, this is not the city for you.

There are so many wonders to good old New York and I am sure once adjusting to the ways of the streets they would transform into a yellow brick road of awesome. But for me, I am proudly a Southern girl who wouldn't trade Music City for the Big Apple any day (unless I was cast in a Broadway musical... I mean, let's get real).

So, it seems I have reaffirmed once again, there truly is no place like home (or Disney World... just felt like that needed to be clarified).

Resist the snooze!

Must channel this baby

I snoozed for two hours this morning. I literally do not know why I EVER think this is going to make me a more restful, happy and productive individual. But in my dreamy state I become like a sleep addict, foraging for every excuse known to man to sleep just a little bit longer. This is what goes on in my head:

ALARM 5:45am: Oh... no no no. Not yet?! Really?! REALLLLYYYY?! WHY?!?! Oh wait... I buffered in the standard 15 minute snooze. Good thinking. So, let's begin. Just a little tiger snooze to lull me back to life. SNOOZE.

ALARM 6:00am: Excuse YOU alarm. I said SNOOZE.

ALARM 6:15am: If I snooze just one more time I can still fit in my workout. SNOOZE.

ALARM 6:30am: I don't need the full workout,  just some yoga stretching will be good. SNOOZE.

ALARM 6:45am: GET UP. If you don't get up you won't be able to even yoga stretch.... but then again, I'm feeling pretty limber... so, I wouldn't want to over-extend myself. SNOOZE.

ALARM 7:00am: If I get up now I have plenty of time to shower and look like a decent human at work.... but now I'm going to have to workout after work, so I will just shower then. Plus, I looked pretty decent the past two days so I'm due for a hot mess day. SNOOZE.

ALARM 7:15am: Well, now I don't have to workout or shower, so it's much too early to get up. What would I do with myself? SNOOZE.

ALARM 7:30am: Repeat the thoughts of 7:15am.

ALARM 7:45am: FINE. I'M UP. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?! Gosh.

Once lucid, I proceed to resent all of the justifications I made at 15 minute intervals creating the foggy, sleepy, bad-hair-day situation that is my current Wednesday. No, not even two cups of coffee can butt pinch this hot mess back to life. I'm just BLAH.

Moral of the story - SNOOZING IS NEVER THE ANSWER (until tomorrow morning at 5:45am). Say no to the snooze. Be like the baby - be excited you are waking up to a new day full of possibilities. Workout, stretch and hey - why not throw in a shower! It will probably make your day WAY more awesome. Take it from me - I'm sleepy and I probably smell. Good times.

Mind over matter.

Mind. Blown.

I watched the marathon this weekend with some friends on a balcony overlooking the ten mile mark. With mimosas in hands, we stood there, absolutely amazed by the determination and will of the endless stream of runners as they turned the corner at the top of the Gulch, pouring into the street for hours. Some were coasting along, throwing their arms in the air. Others were pushing strollers, supporting causes. There were tutus and capes and even courageous people powering through injuries they must have encountered miles before. The sheer flood of energy and unity (potentially heightened by my intake of alcohol before 10:00 a.m.) made for an extremely emotional experience.

Standing on that balcony in our sweatpants, having just feasted on pancakes, we couldn't help but laugh at the dichotomy between us and the runners busting their butts below. We talked about how we would never survive a half, let alone a full marathon. "I am a swimmer, not a runner." "I would literally die at mile three!" "They would have to pick me up out of the fetal position and carry me across the finish line." "I just don't know how these runners are functioning." "I have bad knees." Okay fine, all of these comments might have come from me - but everyone agreed - it seemed a task unimaginable for us mimosa-professionals to endure.

And that is when one of our more wise friends chimed in - "It is all mind over matter... You could do it, if you just set your mind to it." Immediately, all of my rebuttals rose to the surface - "but... SWIMMER.....no way.... not me....FETAL POSITION." But before my usual excuses could come out of my mouth, I stopped, looked down and considered it.... Then I had another mimosa.

But I've been thinking a lot this week about that idea - mind over matter - particularly on mile 1.5 on the treadmill last night when feeling as if my will to live was slowly sinking into oblivion as I pounded the belt. Do our minds really have the power to control our physical reaction to challenging situations? Could I really run 13.1 miles (with the proper training, despite my "swimmer" identity?) And does this apply to all areas of life?

I'm sorry.... but you're wrong.

I believe that it does, but to see it truly take shape in a positive way, we have to first re-frame our thoughts and re-program all of the resistance we put on ourselves through doubt and fear. All of those beliefs I have about "not being a runner" are true because I believe them to be true - and therefore my body has a very negative (on the verge of hostile) physical reaction to running. But what if I changed my thoughts? Have you ever had an experience when by simply telling yourself "I can do this" you suddenly felt the strength to push a little further? Look at me - enduring a deployment, when I literally told all of my army wife friends years before I even met Erik that I could NEVER do it. You guys - I'm starting to think Taylor Swift has it all wrong - you should NEVER say never.

Whether it is running a race, or simply navigating the race of life, it is incredibly admirable to see people who do not live in self-doubt but rather stride with faith, courage and confidence through challenging situations. It is not easy to achieve, but if we work on putting our minds in the right place, anything is possible. Those runners crossed the finish line. Whatever your finish line is - believe you can too, and you will find yourself on the other side having conquered the matter with the power of your mind, and hopefully enjoying a mimosa!

How to acheive world peace.

Wouldn't it be great if the world looked like THIS!

We live in a pretty volatile, power-hungry world. I cannot at this time give you specific examples, because as we discussed, I very rarely watch the news in an effort to preserve my Glinda the Good Witch means of transportation via bubble. But I was recently pondering what I could personally do to make the world a little less scary and a little more like the Epcot World Showcase (where fireworks and Mickey Mouse unite all countries). And I think I have discovered the answer - Dancing With the Stars, world leader style.

Hear me out-  it is no surprise that I am a super fan of the ABC hit that has been dancing into our living rooms since 2005. Admittedly, I make all of my decisions in life based on if they are going to bring me one step closer to becoming a B and/or C-list celebrity so that I can be on the show myself (and have five-time champion Derek Hough as my partner - duh). Not only is the entertaining judges, costumes, choreography and strategic use of the spray tan mind blowing, but this show CHANGES LIVES.

He definitely needs to get his grove on.

This season, Oympian Amy Purdy, who lost her legs at age 20, is inspiring people with her amazing story that you can do ANYTHING you set your mind to. All of the contestants endure this incredible journey to find themselves as they find their footing. Yes - tough, meaty sports stars are brought to tears. In fact EVERYONE that goes on this show at some point in time is bought to tears. Basically it's like being interviewed on Oprah every day for 12 weeks, on a dance floor in front of the whole world. All of the "fame" and "talent" that makes these people feel credible is stripped away before our eyes, and suddenly we witness true vulnerability and struggle that leads to ground-breaking and personal aha moments. Imagine if Kim Jong-un had this opportunity?! Am I right?!

And I have already considered all of the logistics. First of all - dance is universal so we wouldn't have to deal with language barriers. Yes, this is a bit of "friendly" competition, but the shift in focus from world domination to winning the mirror ball trophy will distract from any immediate world danger. They will all be way too busy picking out their costumes to start riots - something tells me world leaders care about fringe and sparkle. I'm telling you, get these power hungry politicians in the practice studio with people telling THEM what to do, on an even playing field learning to fox trot, and let the soul searching begin. After that, they can all get in a room and will likely decide that they were all just out of touch with what really matters and dancing was the answer all along.

Just a suggestion.

[PS - Please do not comment and or respond to this post with anything that remotely insinuates that you think I'm serious... Instead, channel that logical thinking into an old-school dance move and break it down!]

Foot. In. Mouth.

This is me. Except way less cute and delicate....

I had an epiphany at 10:27 PM last night as I was trying to fall asleep that what I actually meant to say in my post yesterday was that my finger TIPS were being torn to shreds by old guitar strings. Not to be confused with the made-up term I settled on "finger pads." Um. DUH.  That was a moment when stream of consciousness writing took precedence over appearing like a human who actually graduated elementary school.

So naturally, this got me to thinking about some other moments in my life in which I said things out loud that made absolutely no sense and/or should have just stayed in my head while in public ear shot of other human beings. I have a size 11 foot, so you would think the sheer terror of putting THAT appendage in my mouth would add an idiot-proof filter. But oh no... simply not the case. 

FOR INSTANCE:
[But first, a disclaimer: This is a place of no judgement. So you are required to still think I have a brain after you read it - okay?! Cool. Proceed:]

1. Yesterday to someone of our generation: "You mean to tell me you don't know the band Abba outside of their hit " Dancing Queen?!" Woah.  Not okay. You need to download their greatest hits album stat or else I'm not sure our friendship can continue."

2. To a young boy with long hair, dressed similarly to his younger sister in the sibling playroom at the children's hospital: "Well aren't you two sweet coordinated sisters!"

3. Along those same embarrassing lines, to a woman I completely misread from the backside entering the women's bathroom: "Oh sir - the men's is the other door!" (this one made me sick to my stomach for WEEKS. Needless to say, I held my pee and booked it out of there in shame).

4. To my boyfriend's amazing mom: "I just love that Erik is five years older than me - he will have to go through all of those milestones before me and I can be the young one!" - to which she sweetly replied with a giggle - "You do know I am five years older than Mike, right?"

5. To my sister who gained some pounds while she was studying abroad in Italy: "Lynnie, you don't look fat!! You look jolly! It's like, I can sort of see what you will look like when you're pregnant." She cried. 

And then the CLASSIC middle school (...it might have been high school, but whatever) questions I asked my Modern European teacher: "Um, wait - do people actually live in Egypt today?!" Followed up a few weeks later with - "What I don't understand is why the Romans never cleaned up the ruins - I mean, we clean up our disasters... why did they just let it sit there!?"

There you have it folks. Makes "finger pads" look like a bright and shining moment, doesn't it? Just goes to show your hair color, SAT score, GPA, income, title at your job or perfectionist personality does not guarantee you won't say stupid things, out loud, and in my case - relive them on the internet with my entire friend-base.

Then again - laughing at yourself can sometimes be exactly what you need to remember we are ALL human, and perhaps inspire you to have a little more grace for all of the humans around us (who might say stupid shit sometimes). It takes guts to be silly, and own up to those times when you didn't quite use your six senses (or even just one sense) to assess a situation. Be kind to others. Be kind to yourself. Embrace that you're not perfect, and more importantly NEVER ASSUME SOMEONE'S GENDER. Ever.

Be inspired.

"Cause you're EVERYWHERE TO ME"

I have had a set of guitar strings sitting in a cabinet since October 2012 - when, after two years of shredding my finger pads (finger pads?! That sounds like I have paws or something... I am clearly not up on my Grey's Anatomy...just go with it) with worn out strings, I decided it was time for a switch up.

The six strings came tightly raveled in this cute little case (I'm sure most elite guitarists would agree it is a "super cute" little case) and I was excited to find the tiny pliers from my hot pink Barbie tool kit, YouTube "how to re-string a guitar," and reignite my passion for playing (anonymously in my apartment of course. In this town you don't announce you play guitar if you have a voice made for musical-theater in the shower and your best tunes are Michelle Branch covers... it just doesn't quite "wow" music city, ya know?!).

But in the whirlwind of life (and sadly, without the proper pliers - THANKS FOR NOTHING BABS), my guitar sat in my living room corner, a finger death trap just collecting dust. Until yesterday. For those of you, like me, who aren't on the "math train" - that is OVER A YEAR - whaaa?!?!

So what changed? Why now?

This deployment has been such a grueling yet enlightening experience. In so many ways the 20-something woman's quest for love, booze and social fulfillment takes precedence over quality time with ourselves and our passions (you might be the self-actualized exception to this rule and if so - my sincere admiration). It is easy to lose ourselves when trying to "find" someone else. But when you have found "the one" and then he gets shipped off to a far far away magical and safe land called Afghanistan, the idle time and loneliness of watching Full House re-runs in your apartment can become seriously depressing. You start to ask yourself questions like - Who am I? and How can I find my own sense of fulfillment and happiness all by myself?

Okay, before you cue up the Celine Dion power ballad - hear me out. I have tons of amazing and supportive friends, all in different stages of life who have been such a life-line through this "unique" experience (just trying to get some points for being positive here). But those quiet moments alone, uninterrupted by the haze of hangovers, new flings or crazy nights out on the town, truly illuminate where we are missing the connection with ourselves. I had let that guitar just sit in the corner, and in doing so forgot about the love story I share with music and the love story I share with myself.  

Whatever your "guitar" is - that thing you have been putting off because you don't feel like you're good enough, you don't have the time, or you just don't know where to start - find some "pliers," (or in my case, a friend who knew what the heck to do) some courage and some time. Do the things you love - even if that means dancing alone in your living room (or singing Wicked in the shower... just a suggestion). You just might find the things you love bring you someone to love, a job to love, or even better, allow you to fall in love with yourself all over again.