Buck It! Summer's Over & I'm Almost 30

I guess it is September already. Summer is officially over, although since we started back to school in the beginning of August, it already feels like a long time ago. Trips were taken, food was eaten, and this summer was, in general, a really good time. I'm so glad Joy and Tracy suggested creating a summer bucket list, it got me super pumped and I'm happy to report that I checked (almost) everything off that list.

As a kid, I always enjoyed having a September birthday. I got all the benefits of having a summer birthday, backyard bbqs or parties in the park, while also celebrating in school. There was something so special about classroom cupcakes and the teacher leading us all in song.

This year, I'd rather crawl in a very dark cave, eat an enormous amount of cake and champagne, and emerge without anyone noticing that I, Gwen Edwards, am 30 years old. And for those that know me, this just isn't right. You see, I'm one of those people that loves a good birthday party, would never pass up a chance to blow out the candles and make another wish. And I won't bore you with the usual cliches, "Oh, I feel so old!", "Geez, I can't believe my 20s are over!" No, you see, that's just not what's bothering me at all.

It's just that, damn, what happened to those 30 years? It's a shock to the system to think, really consider, how many years it's been since I played softball, rode a roller coaster, saw my aunts and uncles, or went fishing. Time. Time. Time. It jut goes and goes and has no feeling at all. It selfishly rolls on and over my 30 birthday wishes, never stopping to ask me how I'm doing, no.

I don't have a problem with getting older. I just have a problem with time. Stop time, please, I need to finish my book, call my best friend, plan better lessons, cook my grandma's chicken and dumplings. I need to travel the world, have kids, start a business, write a book. But time is unmerciful, moving past me everyday without even a word or a smile.

When will it be too late? Time is surely not waiting around for me. I've gotta do those things I need to do, whether time likes it or not. Can I keep up with time? Probably not, but I'll not wait around for time to keep passing me by.

Here's to 30 more.

Blog Action Day: Let's Talk About Food

At the beginning of this year, January 1st in fact, I went meatless. This was not due to wanting to save animal lives, or lose weight (in fact I think all the cheese has added to the old waistline). Really, I wanted to do more to preserve the environment. Composting just wasn't cutting it for me anymore.

The truth is, I'm an Oregon girl at heart. And Oregon people are full-on tree hugging, trail hiking, scat identifying, one with the Earth types. Full-on. And so it just became too difficult to justify my frozen chicken breast consuming ways.

Not only that, but after reading Julia Child's My Life in France and all of her wonderful descriptions of chickeny-chickens I realized that I'd never in my life had fresh chicken, and that wasn't going to change anytime soon due to what's available in my local grocery stores. Julia's fervent appreciation of food got me to pay more attention to what I was stuffing in my own mouth. And the reality is, flash-frozen chicken breast tastes like crap. So does the vast majority of grocery store meat. I don't like to eat food that tastes like crap. So I don't.

That is not to say I will not eat meat ever or that I'm above cheating. You can call me a meat cheat if you want as my will-power is sometimes too weak to resist a SPAM musubi. If I can get my hands on some locally caught fish, the best is from the guy who sells it on the road-side, I'm totally game.

See what I'm getting at here? I'm just trying to do my part for the environment.

Not convinced or not ready to give up meat? There are so many other ways you can do your part:

-Write your own post about food.
-Get inspired. Get informed.
-Boycott high fructose corn syrup.
-Plant something. Anything.
-Compost your food scraps.
-Feed a kid in need. 
-Buy and eat local.
-Try not to waste food.


This rant is done! Thanks for reading.

Journal Day: A Haircut Can Change Your Life

Here is today's prompt from Sometimes Sweet:
Looking at all of the life you've lived so far, can you pinpoint one time frame or instance that you feel truly contributed to your growth as a person?  This may be a turning point, a positive or negative experience, a moment or collection of moments that stand out in your mind...something that changed you as a whole. 
Write about your own experience on your blog and share it with me and Sometimes Sweet in the comments. Links welcome!


This journal prompt couldn't be more fitting as I pack my belongings to head off to the place where the biggest turning point of my life occurred some six years ago. I'm flying to Denver tomorrow for an Americorps reunion and while my flight itinerary say DEN, my emotional itinerary says OMG. You see I abruptly left my Americorps assignment that year, and all my best gal pals, on a stroke of intuition.


My life in Denver was great. I was just out of college, my colleagues were the most interesting and fun people I'd ever spent time with, and I was adjusting well to a new city and a new life. All this despite facing the end of a two year live-in boyfriend situation, working seven days a week, and making very little cash. I was on a serious mission to be the most independent, fearless bitch you ever met. And oh baby, did I ever accept that mission full-force. It was just so great to be free; free from boyfriends, free from living near anyone I knew, free from college, free of expectations. I had never felt more like myself. In no time at all I had an amazing group of friends, a new boyfriend, and dreams for the future I'd never even considered. 


And then came the ring. My live-in boyfriend situation showed up in Denver unexpectedly and asked me to marry him. I said yes. I didn't think, I just said yes. Yes to a man that in some weird knowing way, I always knew I'd be with. 


He came to Denver and moved in with me. Everything changed. I couldn't be Denver Gwen anymore because here was this person who knew me in a very different context and it just didn't work anymore. We fought. I wanted my Denver life and the ring. It just didn't work both ways. 


He rented a U-Haul and started to re-pack his things. We cried all night after making the decision to split, again. The day he was to leave I was sitting in a salon getting my haircut. 


And then.


And then something hit me hard in the guts. As I watched the stylist comb my hair I knew that this wasn't how it ended. Something else took over and there was no way I was going to let him leave like that. I blew off work and rushed back to the apartment. We went for a walk. As we circled the park again and again, I knew it was time to go, this wasn't going to work in Denver, in the context of my new life. 


So we bought some plane tickets that very hour and got the hell out of there. 


This was the hardest choice I ever made. But those rocks in your gut don't lie. Do I miss my friends and think about how different my life could be? Yes. Do I have an amazing husband and life I never could have dreamt of in a million dreams? Hell yes. 


It just doesn't work both ways, and that's ok, this is how it's meant to go. 

Journal Day v.3 - No Regrets

Prompts from Sometimes Sweet. Share a link to your own journal day post on Sometimes Sweet or in the comments below. 


If you had a free pass to go back and change anything in your past, with the promise that it would only affect you positively, would you do it? And if so, what would you change?


I am warning you right now, this post is about to be cheesier than your grandmother's macaroni. 


In all fairness I must immediately admit that there have been times when a great deal of my thought energy has been spent rehashing events, wishing I could go back. In fact, about 2 years ago I very nearly had a breakdown worrying myself sick about whether my life decisions were "right" or not. 


Thankfully I was saved by books. And Oprah. And teaching beautiful children. 


There are at least 1.2 million events I would go back and change in my life, but it wasn't until I accepted that it wasn't going to happen that I found some peace. 


So here's how it happened. After a particularly self-hating day in which I'd scolded myself relentlessly for not being a famous author, an ass-kicking politician, a visionary chef, or a world traveler, I took a damn nap. And it felt like the longest, deepest sleep ever. It was more than sleep, it was like a spiritual time machine in which I slept for 26 years, relived my whole life, and having rubbed my eyes and re-oriented, realized I was in the exact same place I started from. It was as if I'd been given the chance to re-do it all, and chose the exact same path. Huh. It occurred to me then that, maybe, just maybe, I'm doing all right. 

On Running

SNAKETHROAT

My mom wanted to run a 5k while I was visiting the mainland recently. I'm not a runner. I hate running. In fact the thought of running a 5k terrified me. I also don't like feeling terrified. So I started running.

We never did run the 5k but I am up to 2.8 miles (my personal record) at one time without stopping. I seriously believed that running more than a mile without stopping was impossible for me. Accomplishing stuff feels good. My original goal was 3 miles, now I'm bumping that up to 5.

The real question is: did I actually turn into someone who likes running? First let's hear the reasons I hated running before: it's hard, it's boring, it's sweaty, and I'm not a proponent of high-impact exercise, due to it's effect on the body. In reality, it's really not that hard. Once you get going, it goes way faster than many other workouts, eliminating boredom. And it turns out getting sweaty can be super satisfying like, "wow I'm so sweaty and buff." As far as running being high-impact, it totally is, but I'm not running a marathon here. I'm officially embarrassed about all the complaining that happened in year's past regarding running at softball practice. Sorry coach.

So yeah, I like running now. Not to mention 200 minutes per week of exercise will make you 20 years younger, and 8 was my favorite age. Next on the list, get some new running shoes. Suggestions? 

My First Wave

Prompt provided by Sometimes Sweet were you can join the fun by writing on the prompt in your blog (feel free to grab the image up top), then come back here and leave a comment with a sentence or two from your entry, and the link. 


Describe a "first" (first date, first lie, the first time you experienced something, first time in a particular setting, etc). Include as many details as possible to paint a picture.


I'd tried surfing a few times before, but always ended up paddling, defeated, towards shore after getting pounded mercilessly by waves I didn't know how to get over or under. Some new surfer friends I recently met insisted on helping. 


Surrounded by white sand, blue sky, and the ever-laughing ocean we set off early one morning from the campsite we'd inhabited the night before, boards in tow. My board, yes mine, is of the Costco variety, made of blue foam, with little (ok major) cat scratching etched completely over one side. It had been sleeping under the house for a couple years. And this is the part where I get nervous. See the ocean looks real inviting, but those waves will smack you around real good, and here on the Big Island, you're liable to land on lava rock, or worse, sea urchin, if the water is shallow. My girlfriends confidently stride up the beach, tanned, gorgeous, surely smelling my fear, and slowly as if time ticked with my heart, we wound leashes over our ankles and slid noiselessly in the water. 


The paddling itself is tough, but for me facing a wave and hoping I crest the top crosses into the opposite of my comfort zone. We try and try, and I fall and fall. I watch them catch wave after wave, red-painted toenails lifted high as their boards glide down the wave, then they're up, smiling salty grins. You gotta catch a wave, they say, you can't go in without it. Cheer me on then, I say, this can't be that hard. This one's yours! Paddle! Paddle! So I do, and my legs are shaking, my toes pressing the edge of the board, rush of wave in my ears, chasing me. It lifts me up, the wave actually lifts me up, and I'm riding it, fast. I push myself up with shaking arms and now standing the world goes quiet, peaceful, fast. Everything stops but me, this board, this wave. I did it.