gray hairs and denial

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I was 22 when I sat in my hairdresser’s chair as she started counting my gray hairs. As in, I had so many that it was fun to count them. As in, more than one or two or three.

Praise the Lord for hair dye, so I don’t have to regularly withstand the emotional toll it takes on a 23-year-old when she remembers she’s already got a head full of grays. A vain 23-year-old who cares way too much about the state of her hair.

At my age? Gray hair is just a sign of bad genes {thanks Mom & Dad!}—or so I tell myself. Which is why I fully accept the denial I have cloaked myself in and years of bi-monthly trips to the salon.

As I was mulling over my gray hairs, I realized I hold onto the defense mechanism called denial just a little bit in other areas of my life as well….

• Jeans from high school that still sit in my closet. Never going to be able to/want to wear those again—get rid of them!
• No, Justin Beiber is not in my top played list on iTunes. My music tastes are much too refined for that.
• And my personal favorite: Winter boots that are a size too small—wore them all last winter because I could not find them in a bigger size and loved them too much to pass them by. Now have two ingrown nails to show for that one.

As they say—Denial: it's not just a river in Egypt. It’s something we all suffer from—or at least I hope I’m not alone on this one.

getting some air

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It all started on Monday afternoon. And spiraled out of control very quickly. My semi-mental breakdown, that is.

I was having dinner with a girlfriend after work. We, as usual, were discussing in detail our love lives as of late. Nothing interesting on my end, but stories galore from her. Typical conversations between two friends over drinks and a meal.

It had already been a weird day involving seeing an old friend, which was unexpected but great. Random texts from another friend, discussing how it felt like there was a full moon because of all the strangeness of the day {not a full moon though alas}. And then… after dinner I go home only to get a text from my ex. Not necessarily too out of the blue, but will I ever get over the jolt I feel when his name appears on the screen?

Later on that night I decided to read my horoscope, as I do at the beginning of most months, out of curiosity. There, on my computer screen, Susan Miller, my go-to astrological guide, was telling me I was going to be single until October 2012. Cue mental breakdown. She explained a lot of stuff that went over my head but what I could gather was that Saturn {that bitch} has been clouding my love life since October 2009. Which happens to also be {roughly} the same time the ex from above and I broke up. Also to note: my last significant relationship.

Too many coincidences.
Too much thought.
And there was nothing I could do about any of it.
Or so it seemed.

Frantic text messages were sent to family and friends. Willing them to tell me there was no way my horoscope could be true. Each throwing me a lifeline and rightfully telling me I was crazy.

Two hours later I go to bed.
Eight hours later I wake up.
Facepalm.

I’m not that girl. Not the girl who lets her horoscope of all things freak her out. Not the girl who worries about being single for another day, month or year. Not the girl who lets silly things get in the way of her happiness. {Totally the girl who sends out frantic text messages to the ones I love most though.}

So it was decided—I would do something about it. The challenge was born. We could both {and probably many of you} use some happy. As simple as that.

Day two and I think this is just what I needed. A new frame of mind. A new goal. A new outlook.

The Challenge!

via Pinterest

Annye and I have both been in a bit of a funk lately. And as good friends do, we have to help each other snap the heck out of it. To kick our butts into gear, we are taking a 30-day happiness challenge. We have to do one thing, every day, that invests in our happiness.

What those things will be, I have no freaking idea. I for one, have forgotten what makes me happy. How silly is that? Let's see if the next 30 days helps me figure it out.

We will post a recap once a week to let you guys in on the fun, not to mention hold ourselves accountable.  Especially me. I tend to say 'eff this' when the going gets tough. So I'll be proving to myself I can stick with something. (Thanks mom and dad, for letting me quit piano and dance team. You ruined me. Kidding. You knew they were all idiots, too.)

But this is something worth sticking to.  So bring it on.

P.S. We hope you join us! Check out 'the challenge' tab. 

pipe dreams

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Today Jena and I are entertaining fantasies of picking up our lives and moving somewhere new. Yes, it crosses my mind at least twice a week to pack up my bags and head somewhere else. Realistic? Probably not. Dreamy? Totally.

I love the possibilities that are out there. New city, new people, new things to learn. Of course I love home. But Arkansas will always be around. Why shouldn't we move now while we can? (This argument is usually what gets me in trouble.)

Here are my top five places I would pack up and leave for....

1. Chicago (obvious choice)
2. Southern California (for the weather mostly)
3. Austin, Tx. (culture, culture, culture!)
4. Paris, France (I'd be there in a heartbeat if I could)
5. Charleston, South Carolina (say it with me: east coast, southern charm)

If you could live anywhere, where would you head? Have you ever picked up and moved? I want to hear. Give me inspiration!