change is good

You can’t change me (OK, maybe you can a little bit).

- Mel

Have you ever meditated or journaled or bitched over mimosas at Sunday Brunch on how much your life has changed?

I’ve been thinking probably too much about this (maybe because I’m slowly adopting my meditation practice again and also I’m probably doing it wrong because WHY am I so distracted about everything?!). Or maybe because this is what 40-year-olds do. But these thoughts were also induced by the passing of my 10-year anniversary of quitting smoking. TEN YEARS. Photo throwbacks almost always include a picture of me (very probably at a bar or club) drinking and smoking. My drinking habits have also changed, alongside the necessary stoppage of clubbing every night – given my 9pm bed time and ohhhh probably being no longer being single and 20-something has a lot to do with my retreating from The Scene.

Deep thoughts from the toilet.
I realized this week that I CHANGED MY TOILET PAPER BRAND for my husband.

When we had separate living spaces at the beginning of our relationship (though we basically lived together from Day One – yes, this man was just the right amount of cocky that he packed an overnight bag on our first date – we just rotated whose house we would stay until I finally moved into his apartment about 2 months into our courtship). ANYWAYS… I was firmly on Team Cottonelle when I was Managing Life on my own. He likes those bears that wipes their butts with “paper” from the woods.

It’s probably poison ivy.

Like most areas of our relationship, we never fought over whose toilet paper is superior. We, um… don’t really fight about anything unless we are doing house renovations. (Our backyard project is almost done, by the way.) Don’t you just HATE couples who don’t fight?! I am a total Kitchen Sinker type of fighter. My husband has probably raised his voice, like, twice. I let him assume the grocery shopping responsibilities because I shop like a teenager who only eats sugar – and here we are, 9+ years later, me realizing why we never had a discussion about what toilet paper we use. BUT HE DOES THE GROCERY SHOPPING, YOU GUYS, WHICH IS MY MOST HATED CHORE. Besides cooking – which he also does – but only because I find it overwhelming and he finds it to be a pleasurable and relaxing experience. HOW two people one person so complicated ever came together in a relationship is a question for the universe.

On my run last night, I had a conversation with my male running buddy about relationships and this notion of is it “better” to have met and married someone early on to figure out life shit together – or does the relationship have greater chance of survival if two people have independently lived and cooked for themselves – terribly or not. Which is the Charmin and which is the Cottonelle?

I dated my high school boyfriend for many years. Spoiler alert: it didn’t work out (at least for us, together, but we are both now in long-term married partnerships. YAY, US!). I met my husband when I was in my 30s and shoved his presence away for ALMOST A YEAR because OH GOD, NO WAY am I dating someone in their 20s again. Hahahahahahahahahah.

What I’m getting to here, is that I am practically unrecognizable to myself from 20 years ago. I should also probably bring up that I had a nail piercing. I WORE DANGLING JEWELRY FROM MY PINKY (FAKE) NAIL.

I mean… Charmin toilet paper. WTF.

That said, we have DEFINITELY had the toothpaste conversation, and my husband’s preference is total shit while I am #Crest4Life, so we are firmly rooted in a two sink, two toothpaste household (TSTT — brand it!).

Maybe the secret to change is to let someone else do the grocery shopping.

So, what side are you on: Team Cottonelle or Team Charmin?

Weekly Therapy: “Growth for the sake of growth is the ideology of the cancer cell”

- Mel

the week:
Man, was it difficult to return to work this week! I felt like I hit a wall every day around 3pm and not even espresso could help me recover.

Seeing as how we’re already a week into the new year, I’m spending some time reflecting on 2016 and the areas in which to focus this year. I also have to write my annual review (due next week, GAH!), which has always been a struggle for me — despite keeping regular notes of my successes throughout the year. I feel like my head is constantly spinning!

Does anyone else have a journal that they keep on them to “brain dump” throughout the week? Mine is mostly a giant book of to-do lists, but I feel crazy if I don’t get the running list out of my head.

weekend:
Still no working treadmill, so I need to decide if I’m bundling up for the great outdoors this weekend or making extra trips to my gym. *groan*

I’m going to love the shit out of my massage on Sunday. And maybe I’ll go to ULTA and spend my Christmas money.

seven things, seven days:
1. Visit two with my stylist this week, and she was able to correct how much red was pulling in my hair. Going back to “natural” from platinum blonde is a process and remind me of this when I want to go lighter again.
2. The Limited is closing. 🙁
3. Some great tips to beat the running blues… if you’ve lost your mojo. {via Mizuno Running}
4. Old habits die hard – how to really change your life in 2017, per Gretchen Rubin {via The Guardian}
5. OMG check out these old runners advertisements from ADIDAS.
6. Have an ultra on your challenge list for 2017? READ THIS >> A Century or Bust: 100-Mile Lessons
7. The Kaizen approach — and how to be 1% better every day {via Medium}

Midwest Nice and Living in Suburbia (aka: Midwest is Best)

- Mel 6 Comments

If you can call Cleveland the Midwest, then I am from the Midwest. I always thought “The Cleve” felt different than the actual Midwest (where I’m living now) — like some amalgam of the casualness of the mid-States with the constant grumpiness of the East Coast. Pittsburgh wasn’t quite the East Coast and definitely not the Midwest. Cleveland should, for real, be its own region — like Pittsburgh: as they call it, simply, The Rust Belt. But I digress…

So, I’m in what one would actually call the Midwest, and I can honestly feel my mood shift to a different place. Everyone is so freaking nice — which has a LOT to do with it. So, I want to be overly nice, too. And more patient. More relaxed. Seriously, it’s the very form of peace I’ve been searching for, for quite a while. Something that the noise of the city and anxiety of its respective lifestyle overwhelmed and drowned out constantly.

I live in the suburbs now, which is also where I am from. Not this actual metro area, of course, but the suburban home in a suburban neighborhood. Granted, I came from a lower middle class upbringing in the suburbs, but a suburb is a suburb is a suburb. We lived in downtown Cleveland for a year+ before relocating to Pittsburgh, where we lived downtown as well for a year+ before purchasing a house on the north side — one mile from the Golden Triangle. We had a few major and immediate lifestyle changes in moving from an urban neighborhood to a suburb, mainly in adding a second car (and its associated costs) to our household budget and not walking everywhere (though my development is quite walker-friendly!). In fact, I’m so suburban now that we have our first Costco membership. And that suburbia privilege was promptly taken away when we threw out the receipt before exiting with our shopping cart full of things. Luckily, EVERYONE IS SO NICE that we were able to wait for a reprint of our order to leave and not be left inside Costco for eternity.

Patient people are everywhere here. Patient people are nice and friendlier than friendly — and willing to help you with anything. I’ve had people who we’ve met once reach out to connect again and make sure that we have a social circle (and quality drinking time). My neighborhood is also surrounded by farmlands, so this is a very different suburbia than what I was raised in. It must add to the charming character of Iowa. And yes, perhaps I could have found something resembling the cozy, quiet lifestyle in suburbia of Pittsburgh (sans farmland). Here is different. Trust. If you’re from the Midwest, then you just KNOW.

Is it my frame of mind? Is it the actual place? Not sure yet. But my head and heart says that I’m much happier than I’ve been in some time.

Biggest Changes of 2015

- Mel

At the beginning of the year, I got a new job which meant leaving the non-profit that I worked at for almost three years. It also meant leaving roller derby. That last one is important because I recently made the decision to go back and will be trying out for travel teams again in January.

I left for a few reasons, most of which for feeling burned out and least of which… well, I wanted to do something new with my life. I struggled with my sense of identity probably the most. In deciding to go back, I had to be very reflective about my experiences and incredibly honest with my expectations of returning. Not skating for 10 months will change your skill level, but seemingly my endurance is OK. I certainly was no slug for the last year, so I still maintained a great level of fitness. But I have some things to work on, and I’m actually excited for some of those new challenges.

Changing jobs was probably obvious to most given the nature of my previous work, and to be honest was sort of a surprise given how long I had been looking for something new and couldn’t GET something new. I *LOVED* my former organization and my coworkers though (and, naturally, the animals), and I’m certain to be fond of my new organization in time as well. But the new job has also been a continuous adjustment with many organizational changes that came along with a new CEO (I have a new office, new boss and new title, for starters, since I started a year ago). I feel maladjusted more than I should be adjusted. But, eh, we all change jobs and roles with an uncommon (but common) regularity.

In a flit of madness, I not only signed up for a marathon (before finishing my first half), I ACTUALLY RAN ONE. That part of my journey this year was so fulfilling. And I sincerely look forward to pushing those boundaries some more in 2016.

In any event, when I think of change for change’s sake, I get very small. I do not do well with change. I prefer order and schedules and patterns (and a heads up, for chrissakes!) and all of their inherent expectations. I need routine. I CRAVE routine. But every once in a while I feel like blowing shit up — as in, uprooting everything that I know to break up the stagnation and complacency. Like, selling everything that I own (save for my car) and driving across country to live in Phoenix for a while, as I did in 2004. Or, pressing delete on a blog that I published to for over 10 years.

I’m starting to feel that kind of itchy need again. And there’s a good chance that might happen soon after the new year.

On transformations.

- Mel

I wrote this post a couple months ago, but I really feel that it should be outside of draft status.

I’ve been thinking a lot about transformations lately, which has spurred from so many different directions and mediums. An email found its way to my inbox, requesting an update from an article written about me in 2006 (and my single life), for one. This person, I’m sure with good intentions, basically wanted to know if I ended up “happy”… but also wanted to know about the dating scene in Cleveland. The latter, I’m sure is awful (because isn’t it awful everywhere); the former: undoubtedly, yes.

[Ed note: I never responded to the letter, and yes, I told my partner about it.]

Ultimately, the whole thing left me feeling exposed all over again. I didn’t really like feeling exposed then (yes, despite agreeing to have the magazine do an article about me), and particularly now, my former life (and all its mishaps and misadventures) feels like some deep secret that I need to keep closeted away.

Prior to this email, I was equally caught off-guard when catching up on my Rich Roll podcast, to hear the infamous name of a fellow blogger (some would probably call us both douchebags or some derivative in our collective blogger heyday): Tucker Max. We both reveled in a lifestyle of partying and drinking and sipping up every opportunity to be wild and independent of really any responsibility. Those were our 20s. And in the early blogging days, bloggers like us wrote about their dating exploits — the good, the sad, the cringe-worthy, and the total destruction of messy break-ups and subsequent loneliness. He, obviously, wrote a lot more about the sex.

[Read: Tucker Max gives up the game {via Forbes}]

I broke up with my old blog (and its identity) years ago and never looked back. I experienced growth far beyond that identity (even if there are still many who refuse to believe that a person can change — family included). There was an inherent shame that was soon evident, attaching my online persona to that of Real Life Me, which affected me deeply both personally and, I honestly think, professionally, despite my feelings of pride at the time. People made me feel really, really bad about who I was. So I did a lot of soul-searching and friend searching and acceptance searching — in a lot of bad ways. For a lot of years. But it took a lot of digging in to uncover what was truly going to make me happy (was I not happy?). Make me even a better person (was I really that terrible or that different from any other single 20-something person?). In any event, that type of lifestyle was sure to run its course, and it did, and I have evolved. And I’ve moved on.

What took the longest was my self-worth. That I was worthy of praise and accomplishment and, most of all, love. That’s a ridiculous thing to admit, right? But man… I felt so damned and worthless for a huge bulk of my early adulthood. And it was all online. Exposed. Shamed.

I think that’s what made reading Jon Ronson’s “So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed” so… pained for me. The differences in actions and behaviors of shaming so abunduntly different online versus real life, but wholly affecting the person subjected to this public display of admonishment in BOTH. That pain, I think, lingers deep and long. And even more sad (and a lot more recent), Bullies came out like cockroaches despite the best efforts in pest control.

I found peace in my transformations, to be sure, and I don’t go searching for anyone’s permission or acceptance to living my own life… but that email definitely stirred up some bad memories.

More reading: How does one go about re-inventing oneself? For me, it wasn’t so much calculated as it was maturity and experience. And an absence of naivete. Letting go of things that no longer serve you, so they say. My buddy Justin (if you followed that link at the beginning of this paragraph) sums it up so succinctly: All you have to do is think differently and act accordingly.

Congratulations, Graduate!

- Mel

This past weekend was special. My family joined me to celebrate my accomplishment of (finally!) completing my bachelor’s degree. I traveled to the commencement ceremony in Columbus, Ohio because it was important that I acknowledge this achievement in-person. I really wanted the opportunity to savor it — to meet my classmates and those who I worked with in online courses, to meet my senior capstone adviser, to nervous-chatter and laugh (and cry a little), and to really feel proud of myself.

And I did.

This goal was personally important to me, and I had so much support from my partner during the last couple years to return to school and finish. He gave me strength when I had none. He (smartly) did not give me answers when I needed them. At times, this was a serious struggle — especially balancing work and travel and other life responsibilities. And other times, it felt impossible to see it through. All the trips that we took for long weekends, and I had to lug with me a laptop and a few books. Weekends and evenings completely devoted to writing papers and attending class sessions. I gave up volunteering. I retired from roller derby.

My life was one big note tornado.

And it was all worth it. But I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the impact of that stress — up to and including the commencement ceremony. For starters, I never received confirmation of my final grades, possible honor status, and a degree audit… until I had to ask for that information. Nobody from the school provided details about the commencement ceremony, save for a static webpage that told me what time to be there. I received no President’s Letter for my final semester. I never heard from the program chair congratulating me on my completion.

And then my heart broke when I realized that our program’s graduates (and, yes, including me) were completely left out of the program book. I tried my best to not let that bring me down (but you bet your ass I emailed the Registrar’s Office to demand a reprint).

I won’t do too much cheerleading here, but know that if you have a goal like changing careers or going back to school in your 30s: it will seem impossible, and you find yourself continually struggling with the day-to-day and wondering how to juggle life. It is all worth that final moment of walking across the stage and seeing that piece of paper with your name on it. To hear your parents or partner or kids tell you how proud they are too. Don’t ever let your age stop you from making changes in your life.

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For the record, I graduated Summa Cum Laude. Yep, that level of dedication was all worth it.

Weekly Therapy: What’s with all the questions?

- Mel

the week:
How do you shift your thinking amidst a bunch of change? I’ve been really taking in the perspective of others and asking a lot of questions to help guide me through a few transitions — both professional and personal. I don’t necessarily feel stuck but I don’t feel as though I’m making any meaningful progress either. I have made it a priority, however, to start getting all the info I need to go to grad school. Spreadsheets are made and envelopes of program brochures are sitting in my mail pile. I’m not yet paralyzed… but I’m certainly feeling a little overwhelmed.

Anyone know a life/career coach who helps with the grad school application process?

weekend:
Long weekend, everybody! We originally had plans to drive to Ohio for a party, but that got canceled. So I’ve got a lot of NOTHING TO DO… in my hammock. Buh-bye, summer. Don’t let the door hit ya. And would you mind taking out that 90-degree/100% humidity garbage?

52 books in 52 weeks:
#31: Are You Fully Charged? by Tom Rath – I received this book for review via NetGalley. Since I enjoyed Rath’s StrengthFinder book so much from my personal development work, I expected this to be equally as inspiring.

The first couple sections of the book resonated, and I was particularly interested in what Rath categorizes as “energy”… but the result of that was either heavy on personal anecdotes that didn’t really add much or regurgitated info that I’ve learned from other books (and from my interest in positive psychology). Like, I GET IT ALREADY: I NEED TO GET MORE SLEEP. When someone tells me a HOW that works, then maybe it will be ground-breaking book info.

Hashtag, not getting enough sleep.

seven things, seven days:
1. Did you know that in Pittsburgh you have to renew your library card? My procrastination framework is firmly integrated. Coincidence that it’s National Library Card Sign Up Month?
2. Why did I feel so much worse the day after my 4-mile run than I did after my 14-mile run? WHY.
3. Why are health insurance companies the worst? My claims were denied for the same blood panel I get every year, albeit with my new insurance, and they won’t even apply the $550 payment towards my out-of-pocket expenses or deductible. THE WORST.
4. Why does this make me feel like shit (but I totally get it)? Read: How ‘transference’ makes you hard to live with.
5. A depressing – but hopefully a means for reflection – opinion piece in the New York Times: How Not to Be Alone. I just realized this is from 2013. Why am I just reading it now?
6. Copywriter to Performance Psychologist… Wait, whose life is this? Sustainable High Performance: Five Questions with Matt Fellows {via Forbes.com}
7. Did you know the GRE costs $195?! The hell.

Weekly Therapy: change is not a bad word

- Mel

the week:
A lot can change in a week. As an adult, I think it is important to be able to change your mind, your answers, your direction, or the field — whatever and whenever necessary. I made some big decisions this week as result of my life (and career!) going in a new direction. I do not fear change; in fact, I needed a whole lot of it in my life! Because I suppose I fear complacency more.

Also in change: we bought some new living room furniture on a fun binge at West Elm. I’m getting a blue couch! SQUEE!

weekend:
Friday, joining the ladies for the 21+ night at the Carnegie Science Center, and then joining the Steel City Road Runners Club for a training run on Saturday morning! And then it’s back to my usual “all homework Saturdays!”

52 books, 52 weeks:
#3. Mindy Kaling’s “Is Everyone Hanging Out With Me?” A new fan (and binge-watcher) of The Mindy Project, I was hoping for continued hilarity, like her, but this book was pretty abysmal and pointless; while easy to read, I found myself skimming a lot just to finish. It felt really forced and… bluff. MEH.

seven things, seven days:
1. I have no idea how I got this subscription of Sunset magazine, but… somebody wants me to move out West? I was quite excited to see a gluten-free orange cake on the cover, however!
2. I WANT THIS HOUSE. And I’m REAL SAD that it is already contingent.
3. Stopped into my NEW JOB to meet my team and other employees, and do a little orientation. I am SO excited about this position, you guys! I start officially on January 28. AND I HAVE AN OFFICE!
4. I also completed my first peer coaching session with a classmate. This class is so hands-on and scary and intense, but the course and different coaching frameworks are so interesting.
5. We got to celebrate a little with brunch at Eden in Shadyside. I have dreams about their chickpea pancakes smothered in cashew butter!
6. No One Is Successful to Spite You: How to be Happy For Others {via PsychCentral}
7. I swear, every time I read Nicole Antoinette’s blog posts, an internal fire gets lit inside me (is that redundant?): What Makes Your Life Better, Easier, & Way More Fun? {via Life Less Bullshit}

If I were 22…

- Mel

This post encouraged by the hashtag: #ifiwere22

Oh man, 22. TWENTY TWO. Seems like a lifetime from my current age. I lived my life and took it by the balls when I was 22, and almost poetically, lived a life consumed by balls. I basically had zero focus, motivation, or seriousness — unless you count All The Fun and All The Mens at my disposal as a task of 20-something goals. And dispose I did. Life was a party, and I was the life of every one. Sure, I enjoyed that lifestyle at the time because I lived by my own rules, but there were detriments to being the non-stop cruise director of Fun: excessive partying, drinking, smoking… tanning. Carrying more about dating and being pretty than finishing my degree. (Ugh.)

I was far from ready to be an adult.

To be blunt: my 37-year-old self wants to go back and kick my 22-year-old self’s ass.

There are times that I reflect on how different my life could have gone — I could have gone done some darker, scarier roads. Somehow I cleaned myself up after falling in the ditch… over and over and over again. But I’m here. Living it up at 37. Completely different than who I was when I was living 22. The Party Girl.

The responsibilities shift. The priorities realign. And you find a better self. (And hope that others see it too.) I surely still have work to do, despite my “apologizing” for a life time of mistakes in my 20s.

Regrets? Yep. I have a LOT of regrets. And mistakes. And fuck-ups (pardon). I’m not denying that there is an obvious connection of who I was to who I am. The important takeaway here is that people can change — for the worse or for the better — and only if they want to. And I’m ever grateful for those along the way who helped me towards the latter. The perceptions of YOU in your 20s might very well remain in your 30s. Know that reputations are hard to shrug. That process will take time, but change for YOURSELF (and get rid of the toxic people who don’t appreciate your new life).

I’m living 30-something proof that sometimes maturity and accountability comes a little late. And that’s OK. It’s also OK if you don’t want those things, FWIW.

If I were 22? No thanks. Wouldn’t go back there for a second.