Whirlwind that is my life.

It's been two months since my last post. Two. Whole. Months. Of. Hell. Hence, the no-post situation.

From my previous posts, I think you can start to see a very distinct pattern of misery, but it was certainly not full-fledged misery just yet. The misery was only just getting started. My already difficult semester went from bad to worse very, very quickly.

I lost myself. Unless you consider the weight I started gaining, "gaining" myself, but I don't. I got so depressed and so homesick in these last couple of months. My professors didn't care about the classes they were teaching and my fellow classmates cared even less. I, on the other hand, seemed to be doing all of the caring for everybody and was studying more and harder than ever... Only to be rewarded by the worse grades I've ever gotten in my life. C's and D's... and even (gasp) an F.

I was off my game.

In addition to that, however, so was everything and everyone else around me, which was definitely a contributing factor in the mess that had become my life. I was missing trains, exhausted, and so undeniably spent.

There was sweat, blood, AND plenty of tears... but I made it through. I made it through with straight B's. Not the best grades I've ever gotten, but certainly could have been worse given the circumstances.

Now, despite this unusually gloomy weather we've been having for the past month or so, I feel like I'm on the world's best vacation in comparison. The first week of my summer vacation is complete and I couldn't be happier. I got into the school I applied to in California and my only job this summer is to apply for scholarships, set up my schedule, and take care of my mind, body, and spirit while I wait for the next chapter to start.

Jason and I move back to California on August 1st. 4 days before the 1 year mark until our wedding day. 6 days before our three-year anniversary. 7 days before Jason's 26th birthday. And 24 days before my 24th birthday.

Wow.

What a whirlwind my life has been since I started this blog nearly a year and 4 months ago already.

I've learned and grown so much more than I even know how to put into words at this point... Words that I know will come the more time that I get to spend recuperating from all that I've been through.

I like to think that I've always tried to be the best that I can be at all times. Even when I fell short of what was right, or let my naivety get the best of me, I still truly believe I've always strove for my best self. This year was no different, but I was tested in ways that I never had been before and just like in anything else in life-- when we're tested, we grow. When we grow, it hurts. If it hurts, you're doing something right. You're living.

And that's all we can ever really ask for.

Love and light...

xx,
City Girl from Cali

A girl just needs her mama, sometimes.

Hello, readers!

So today, I am a mess. Shocker. I know.

My mom is currently on a plane headed back to California, and even though this is already the 5th time that her and I have had to say an awfully hard goodbye in the last year; it is not any easier. I keep expecting that it will become nearly natural to say "so long for however many months!" and "hello to numerous phone call and text conversations a day!", but it really doesn't. It gets harder, if anything. Which is so unbelieveably frustrating. It's like 5 years are taken off of my age every time I have to say goodbye to her so I imagine that the next time I'll probably be in the fetal position sucking on my thumb and wondering how in the hell I ended up in a crazy people's institution. 

But maybe it isn't so crazy for a girl to just need her mama sometimes. Especially when that mama is all that girl ever had for many, many years of her young life. I have a great mom. It truly is a blessing in disguise that I get so upset at the idea of not seeing her every day. She's a bit nutzo from time to time, sure, but aren't we all? After all, the crazy apple don't fall far from the nutzo tree.

Her first day here, I had only gotten about 3 hours of sleep because I was just too excited. We spent the day doing all of the girly things I don't get to do as often anymore like shopping, drinking wine, and going out to lunch. I took her to the mall that I usually have to go to by myself and couldn't help but feel warm from the tips of my toes to the top of my head that I finally had someone to walk and talk with at that damn place. Now, of course, I'm thinking about the next time that I'll have to go back there by myself and how it's going to be even more horrid than before.

Her second day, we went in to the city. (Of course.) I felt warm all over that day, too, because I couldn't help but remember all of those times that my mom and I would talk about New York City. I was just a little girl when the obsession began, pictures of Manhattan covering my bedroom walls, and I'd tell her, over and over again, a real-life wish, that "one day we will go to New York City and walk around and see museums and eat hot dogs from the hot dog carts" and just a few days ago, that's precisely what we did.

We got lost and took the crowded subway up Madison to 86th Street. We saw Park Avenue, and HOLY CRAP, Carrie Bradshaw's apartment from SATC. We ate a hot dog from a hot dog cart outside The Met and I had my long-awaited Gossip Girl moment on the steps. We ventured through The Met for hours, still not seeing it all. And then promised ourselves we'd be back one day to see the rest, but Bloody Mary's were calling our names right now. We mistakenly asked an ass-hole for directions (who did not give them to us), and found our own way to the Boathouse in Central Park (thank you very much). My mom just kept saying to me, "Wow. Look where we are, Taylor! Look where we are!" It was like re-living my first time in Central Park all over again. We were going to have lunch in the Boathouse to go along with our Bloody Mary's, but we got there late and they were no longer taking lunch reservations. The snooty waitress intrugued me instead of pissed me off because - HELL-OH - real life movie moment. I wanted to slip her a twenty and see where that got me, but I didn't have a twenty.

We saw the fountain and the bridge where Chuck and Blair got married at the end of Gossip Girl. (And my mom got mad at me for continuing to refer to this gossip show she'd never seen before.) Butterflies enveloped my stomach at the sight of the wide and famous walkway in Central Park. (You know the one... it's in Friends With Benefits a lot. Sorry. Another movie reference. God, I'm such a tourist.) Then, I showed my mom where Jason proposed and "ooo"'s and "ahh"'s ensued. We exited the park at 5th and my mom got practically giddy at the sight of Tiffany's. Yes, even more so than the sight of mine and Jason's proposal spot (much to my dismay), but you have to give it to the woman- he is the one responsible for my "living so damn far away". (Her words.) She then pointed out the fountain outside of The Plaza and yelled, "Ooo! Ooo! That's where those two guys walk in that one movie!" So there. I'm not the only one.

After we found a little burger joint for dinner, I took her to Times Square. I'm pretty sure that was her favorite part of the whole day. She really couldn't believe her eyes. Plus, her eyes were being somewhat blinded by all of the lights so, there's that. We got in a mother-daughter spat walking back to the train station because I was walking too fast. What I had to explain to her was that we were in New York, and New York was walking too fast. We didn't come to a reasonable agreement, but we did decide to catch the next train instead and have one more glass of wine.

Which leads me to this, people- DREAMS COME TRUE. They might not always be what you expected and they might take sacrificies to achieve (i.e. moving across the country and dealing with a constant ache called "homesickness"), but no matter the cost; have patience, and most of all, have persistence. Don't ever think for one second that any dream you ever place in your heart is too big or too scary or too much to ask for. It is yours and it is worth it. Whatever your dream is, focus on it. Think about it. Write about it. Picture yourself having it, every single day. And I promise, in some way at some time, it will come true.

New York is a dream come true for me. It's taken so many tears and so much heartache to get here, but I got here. I didn't know how I would get here, I didn't know what it would take, I didn't know that it would be so hard... But I got here. And here is my home for at least the next two years. Here is where the love of my life sleeps next to me every night. Here is that little sparkle I had in my eye as a little girl dreaming of a life in "The Big City".

Anyway...

The rest of our weekend together was maybe not quite as exciting, but equally as satisfying. Jason took us out to breakfast at this old diner down the street. The waitress kept calling me "boo-boo". Then he took us to a pumpkin patch, with, "Oh my God! Actual pumpkins growing out of the ground!" and complete with actual hayrides as well. That night, we watched mediocre comedy stand-up shows on Netflix and mimicked all of the lines along with The Wedding Singer whilst sipping some Apple Cider Sangria that I made. It was a perfect day.

The only time we left the house on Sunday was to go to the movies. To be more specific, the dine-in movies much to my mom's thrill because she'd never been to one of those before, and saw The Martian with Matt Damon. It was a great movie. It was a perfect day.

On her last day, I brought her on the train to school with me. Jason took half of the day off, which is a miracle in and of itself because he never does that, and took us out to lunch after my classes. It was so strange to have them there on campus with me. This campus that has shaped me in so many ways in such a short period of time. A campus that I have had to conquer completely on my own. And now, here they were. Two of my favorite people in the world making this big, scary campus not quite so scary anymore. I think Jason knew I was struggling with the idea of her having to leave again, without me saying a word, and wanted to be there for me. We had many a silent conversation with our eyes that afternoon. It was, you guessed it, another perfect day.

It was not, however, a perfect evening. The later that the day got, the more hours that passed by, and the more that the sun sank down outside our apartment windows... the heavier my chest began to feel. Every time that I would think about the fact that my mom would no longer be sitting there - next to me, in her pajamas, sipping wine - just 24 hours from that moment, tears would prick my eyes, and I would squeeze my eyes tight to will those tears away. 

Of course I tried to talk myself out of having a complete and total, hormone-induced meltdown. It wasn't as if I was never ever going to see my mom again. (Like, ever.) You're going to see her in two months for Christmas, you crazy, over-emotional freak... Yeah, as you can guess, calling myself names didn't really help matters.

Nonetheless, when I was in the safety of the bathroom, shutting the door to take a shower, pulling back the curtain, turning on the water... I could no longer hold back the tears that threatened their escape. They escaped and escaped and it took all that I had to not outright sob. I don't want her to go, I begged. It was suddenly the only thought I could form. The house could have been on fire, for God's sake, and I wouldn't have noticed. I had hoped this would be the easiest "see ya later" of all, and it was quickly turning out to be the worst. I let my tears run together with the water from the shower into one, salty stream and cried and cried waiting for the ache in my chest to stop it's pesky heaving. I then suddenly felt Jason's arms around me, hadn't even heard him come in, and there he was. Holding me in the shower, fully clothed, and not saying a word while I cried, and cried, and cried... Somewhere beneath all of those tears, and all of that ache, I fell even more in love with the man I am to marry. However, it's safe to say that my eyes have been so swollen today I can hardly see out of them. 

It might sound completely over-dramatic, but all of the places we went this weekend, the places we sat, the stores we shopped in, the restaurants we ate in, the streets we walked down... they all are going to remind me of her for awhile. The thing is, that every thing I do here still feels like a dream. It feels like I'm living in someone else's body, going through the motions, and waiting for it to all feel real. It felt real when she was here. Like a piece of home comfortably next to me wherever I went. It all wasn't so scary anymore. 

It feels like a dream again now that she's on her way back. Not to mention, I nearly lost it this morning on the light rail when I sat in the same seat she sat in less than 24 hours ago and thought to myself that I'm on my own again. I thought to myself that I'll sit in this seat every day and maybe sometimes pretend she's still sitting right there next to me, eyes wide, looking out the window. For right now at least, all that I'm able to think about when I see these places is how just hours ago she was right there - right there! - and now she's on her way to being 3,000 miles away again. And I'm back to having to be brave. I'm back to facing what I wished for with as much grace as I can muster because, again, I wished for it. 

I miss my mom already. (Was that not obvious?) I miss the familiarity of home. I daydream about what it will be like to move back there where my mom is merely minutes away, always ready for a shopping trip or a snuggly movie... I daydream about it in the same way that I dreamed about this place. How fucked up is that.

I don't mean for my Blog to sound like it was written by Debbie Downer herself, but my heart hurts today. And when my heart hurts, I write. I also cry, apparently.

Thanks for listening to these writings of my heart, whomever you are.

I'll try to write about finding my way again. You know, once I'm able to do that.

Xoxo,

City Girl From Cali

You can never go home again.

I'm sure you have heard this phrase before... "You can never go home again." I always personally thought that I knew what it meant, but as it turns out, up until last week- I really didn't.

After 4 months of living out in the "real world" and away from the home I was born and raised in, I finally went back to visit. Just the idea that I now have to go home to visit is still such a strange concept to wrap my head around. Now, I was obviously overwhelmed with excitement to be reunited with my friends, family and, of course, my puppies. But, I was also anticipating the weirdness that was sure to go along with it. I knew that it wouldn't be the same, especially without my handsome future hubby there with me.

What I didn't anticipate, however, was how hard it was going to be to say goodbye to him; even if only for a week. When I was getting out of the car at the departures terminal of the airport and receiving one final hug and kiss, I couldn't even attempt to stop the overflow of heart-wrenching tears that ensued. Yes, it was only going to be 7 days and 7 nights apart. I told myself this (not to mention how embarrassingly pathetic I was behaving) repeatedly. Although, in this moment (and many to follow), I simply didn't care. We had been through so much together in the those short 4 months that being apart would mean I would have to basically spend the next week feeling like I was missing a limb.

In addition, I've always hated flying. Especially by myself. I spent the entire flight trying to force away my anxiety with my mind; going in and out of feeling sad to have parted with my other half, followed by feeling overjoyed to get to see my mom in less than 6 hours. Talk about an emotional roller coaster.

My mom picked me up from the airport with both of my furry little Shih-Tzus awaiting me in the front seat. While they were excited to see me, they didn't try to hide the fact that were also a little pissed at me- the bitch who left them. Understandable, but nonetheless somewhat heartbreaking. When your dog, the one who has always jumped up and down at the sight of you instead is giving you the side-eye, you'll know what I mean.

The moment we pulled into my drive and I stepped foot into the last place I called home before I decided to "become an adult" or whatever, my heart sank to my stomach. It looked so much smaller. My mom told me to, "Hold on! Wait here!" before walking into my old room. After waiting a few seconds, she told me to come in and then shouted, "Ta-da!"

She had completely redone my old room. New paint, new bedspread, new art on the walls, candles everywhere, and the furniture completely rearranged. It was beautiful, I actually couldn't help but wonder why I had never done it that way myself, but it also made me a little sad. It wasn't really my room anymore.

I was afraid that my first night away from Jason would be tough, but after celebratory champagne and In N Out with my mom and my best friend (also considering the fact that it was about 4 AM East Coast time), I fell into a deep sleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

The days that followed went by in a blur. I expected that to happen though, for it go by far too quickly. I spent time with my grandparents, my aunt and uncle, my baby cousin, my dad, my friends, and mostly my mom. I got to do my favorite "California things" like go to Newport Beach, go to an Angel's game, drive up to the mountains, go shopping, lay by the pool, eat Mexican food, and so on... While I was busy with all of those activities, I was also blessed with plenty of downtime as well. Time to just sit and talk for hours on end with the people I'm closest to. I learned how healing and grounding it is to be able to let your guard down and just be close to those who matter most to you. I never realized how grateful I am for such a crazy and close family until I had to live without them.

My last night home, before I had to wake up at 3 AM to go back to the airport, hit me like a ton of bricks. One minute I was sitting in my kitchen, drinking wine, laughing at something silly with my best friend and my mom, and the very next I was openly sobbing into my wine glass. My dog, Honey Bunny, crawled into my lap and stayed there, kissing my tears away, for over an hour.

Moving away from everyone and everything you've ever known is not at all for the faint of heart. It does, however, make you appreciate your loved ones more than you thought possible. It allows you to feel small (in a good way) because maybe for the first time in your life you understand how big this world really is. And while leaving home the second time was surprisingly harder than the first, simply knowing that when my big adventure is over, I'll have a home to go back to... Well, that just makes it all the more worthwhile.

Oh and my new fiancé picking me up from the airport with a dozen pink roses didn't really suck either.

Focusing on the good.

When I started this blog I told myself that I didn't want to ever post anything negative. Two blogs in and I, of course, realized that was unrealistic. Life is full of ups and it's full of downs and, therefore, any writing that you do about your life will reflect that. My last post described how much I miss home and how moving here has been much harder for me than I thought it was going to be. Well, I suppose that's still true. However, I'm learning to love it here more and more every day.

My best friend in the whole world, someone who might as well be my sister because we've been attached at the hip since we were five, came to visit this past weekend. 11 weeks we went without seeing each other, which for the record is the longest we've gone without one another since we were five. I'm pretty sure we never stopped laughing the entire time she was here. Not for a single solitary second. Seeing her in that airport was one of my favorite moments since arriving here. We talked for a solid hour about make-up before stopping and shouting at the same time, "I missed talking about this stuff with someone who actually cares!" Our boyfriends oblige us, but let's face it- they don't care about contouring or blending brushes.

We ate too much, drank too much, and shopped too much. It was exactly what I needed. But then she had to go home and this morning when I woke up to a boyfriend at work and a best friend back in California, I felt even more alone than before. It was even quieter than usual. It's a sting that I can't even accurately describe. All I can say is that it was a sting that took two cups of coffee, an intense work out session, a Target splurge, AND dark chocolate to shake off. Once I did, I had a little pep talk with myself. Something I've become quite good at since moving here since, most of the time, I'm the only one around to cheer myself up.

I realized that I need to be grateful for the memories I made with my best friend this weekend and look forward to the ones to come next time she visits. I realized that I truly am living out a life-long dream here, even on the days when I feel emotionally drained and my soul is tired. I'm still here. I'm still breathing. I'm still doing this. I realized that this won't last forever, nothing ever does, and there will come a time in my life when I look back and miss this place and this time. I'll miss seeing the seasons change and feeling the excitement of not knowing what each outing is going to bring. I'll miss spending time in the city. I'll miss this little apartment and the way all of our cute little things look in it. I'll miss this.

The grass is always greener on the other side. But maybe it's about time I start watering where I'm standing. 

People are going to disappoint you. They are going to make mistakes and so are you. Sometimes it's hard to forgive, sometimes you can't do it right away, but give yourself time. Since moving here, many of my relationships have been hindered. I have to work every day to not let it get me down and to not allow myself to feel isolated. Maybe some relationships will get so broken that they never truly heal. It will hurt, sure, but you can focus on them or you can focus on the good. I'm trying to focus on the good and I ask that you, whomever you are, would try with me. And if you're lucky, maybe you'll find yourself in love with your soul mate in the greatest city in the world with a beautiful best friend who comes to visit and share it with you from time to time. At least I did.

Here's to the good in our lives and raising a brave middle finger to the bad.

'Til next time.

Xo