New Beginnings.

thirty.score

I think I'm gonna play over here for a while.
(that's a link by the way)

(re)Evaluation.

So, the F 'stumbled' across my little project the other day.

F.

He had known about it, and had read excerpts from it when I felt that it better explained what I was feeling than I could articulate. But he had never read it in its entirety and well... I can't imagine stumbling across an entire in depth timeline of a relationship I was in; things written in anger, things written in happiness, things that were never said outloud to me; but were written in a public forum for everyone else to read.

Shield your eyes, kids!!!

I would crumble.
I have been thinking over the past day, after doing a quick re-read on all things F, most posts long forgotten, and I realized that I have been a bit blinded by my own selfishness, I never considered how my words in this thing could effect another. The F is not mad, per se, but he definitely now has a better understanding of how he hurt me in the beginning and how back and forth I have been (and why) in regards to him. Basically, I feel terrible that I hadn't ever considered how this expose of sorts could hurt.
Words sting; and these are words written for others to read - The bad can stay with you, can point out that your own personal fears about your own shortcomings are seen by others, that they notice them too, that it's not just you...
We are never as opaque as we hope we are. 
I told MMM - in the vaguest terms possible -  on our second date about this project of mine. We never spoke of it again. But last night, after having learned that the F had read what I written about him, I brought it up to M again.
His response?

Yes, I remember. And it's never very far from my mind.

That surprised me.
I explained to him what had happened with Apt F, and how hurtful my words may have been, and how upset I was at hurting someone's feelings, and yaddayaddayadda and explained that though I have never written a sour word about him, I would never ever want him to read what I have written and be saddened by it.

How did I not see this coming?
Also, go see Moonrise Kingdom.
It resonates with the melancholy 12 year old in me.

Much like why I didn't want the F to read it.
Also, do I really want M to know about every single person I have dated in the past year and a half?
No.
Nor do I want him to have insight on the intensity of my feelings for others, as even though they are past, just like I don't want to know about how in love he was was with whomever it was he was in love with.
This has been a nearly no holds barred outlet for me. 
This has been my avenue for self exploration, for storytelling, for figuring shit out. 
But, in my conversation with M, and my exploitation of F, I feel as though I may need to seriously reevaluate Style & Saturn Return. 
I mean, I'm not technically even in my Saturn's Return anymore.
M and I have had conversations about honesty, and mutual respect for our own privacy (full disclosure: I wish I could get away with pronouncing it 'Priv-issy') but at this fork in the road, I have found myself wondering how public I want my life to be. 
How much of my relationship with M do I want give away? 

It was one thing when I was single, trying to maneuver a life I had never led before; finding solace in the parallels of my existence to others'. 
But I am not alone, I never was, and I most certainly am not alone anymore.


I explained to M all these things, and we had a long talk about (in the vaguest terms possible) whether or not I really need a blog about dating & being single, when... Dot dot dot. 
We left each sentence at that: dot dot dot.
I mean, who really knows what the future holds...? I sure as hell don't. 
But, I know what I feel, and I know what it could hold.
M did not ask me to not write as I do, he would never, he just pointed out that it's purpose may need some re-evaluation. 
And, I agree.


Simply put, when I asked him weeks ago out of the blue, before any talk of - well, anything really...
When I asked him,

This is Something, isn't it?

He responded with a simple Yes. 

This Something is Real.
And this Something is Ours. 
Ours, Alone.

Mind you, I am not going to stop this blog altogether. 
I just probably will not write about my relationship with M as in depth as I have in the past. 
Which, I can imagine, is fine. Relationships, especially happy ones, can be quite mundane. 
I am probably going to simply focus on more abstract ideas and/or more aesthetics. 
Or both. 
I mean, truly, that was my original intention for this blog anyway. See above 'Musings + Inspirations'.  No mention of 'Dating'.


And to the F, if you're reading, please stop. 
No, but seriously, I am sorry. 
You are my dearest friend and I love you. 
And I am so sorry. 
Now, click the 'Back' button. 
YaKayThanks.

Option F. Not C. (Or, C Minus F Equals Free.)

Damn! I forgot an option!
Option F.

F.) Be a respectful person, be honest & break it off.

Then, politely ask them to leave.

I did not pass Go, I did not wait for a catalyst. I was honest & straightforward.
F. Yeah.

Pinky Promise (with Myself)

So, its been an interesting couple of weeks; and the whole phone situation, etc. has kind of made me go:

Whoa, time to chill the F out.

I was doing so well, being a grown up for a while - but I have fallen a bit off the adultwagon recently. Like when I was a teenager, & I had acne; I'd take the acne medicine until my skin would clear up & then I'd stop taking the medicine because I didn't think I needed to anymore (because my skin was clear, duh) and then lo & behold, I'd break out again.
This time, I told myself that I needed to get my act together & I did; but slowly, while telling myself I had somehow 'reformed'; somehow under that guise, I slowly slipped back into the same old patterns of behavior - the acne of immaturity flared right back up.

Yeah, something like that.
Except, ya know, a Reckless Adult.

So I  am putting an end to it. Today. This Monday, I don't feel like hiding out (perhaps because I don't have a phone anyway) but I do feel like going home, staying in, and doing so until the Dutchman arrives. In two weeks. (More on my feelings about that later.)
Basically between losing my phone (or having it stolen, not sure) & a couple other things that have happened recently, I am not very happy with myself. I was on the phone with my best friend in Northern California last week, and I had apologized for doing what felt like hiding out - but then she pointed out that I hadn't been hiding out at all - I'd been going out and out and out.
To which I responded,

You're right. You're so right - its not that I've been hiding, it's that I have been secretive.

Not good, Capital NOT.
Honestly, I've been anxious and sad lately, and I think I have put pressure on myself to be perfect for the Dutchman when he comes back, I am anxious about when he does come back, I put pressure on myself to have the perfect body on the Fourth of July, & many other things... But sometimes when I put that sort of pressure on myself, I rebel. I rebel against myself, if that makes any sense. I'm the Rebelling Rebel Ballerina. My feelings of insecurity and anxiety make me go the entirely opposite direction; so I have been self-destructing a little lately.
So, I am making a Pinky Promise with myself; I am holding myself accountable for my actions. I promise me that I am going to get back to being comfortable just going home, and being by myself instead of grasping for somethinganythinganyone to do or be with. When I do go out I am sending myself home at reasonable hours. I am not going to allow myself to act like a 22 year old Lost Girl. Because I am not that girl.
You know, I struggle sometimes with being honest with myself, I can tend to sweep things under the rug and refuse to deal with them. I put blinders on until everything falls apart, and then I look around at the pieces wondering how the fuck it got so out of control.
It's even harder admitting feeling like an utter fucktard in a blog that your friends (and your mom) read. So losing my phone has kind of given me the space to edit out my contact list ifyaknowwhatImean, to refocus on Me, to take a couple days where I only talk to the people in my life that are important enough that I have their phone numbers memorized. (Which, unlike most people in this day & age, I know quite a few.)
I'll (hopefully) have a new phone in a couple days, but until then, its kind of just me, myself & Kat Moss.
This wild lost little girl schtick has gotten old.
So, it has been decided that I am making the binding pact with myself:
I pinky promise myself that I'm going to go back to acting like a Grown Up.

(She Has No) BBQ Stain On Her White T-Shirt...

... More likely it's wine & even more likely, I'm the one who spilled it on her.

Blue. Purple. White.
With perfectly tossled golden waves, parted down the middle falling over halfway down her back.
Florals. Denim. Canvas. Kicky.
A delicate mix of beach babe & small town girl.
All paired togther an ever-changing bright mix of jewelry.
(I may or may not be writing some sort of love letter to my friend, here! Did I mention she's got quite a rack!?)
So, over a second Bloody Mary with extra olives, it was Decided. that Goldi - a solid combo of bubble, blonde & bohemian - embodies the perfect California-by-way-of-Country look...
Like Country Music video that was cast in LA, she's a bit of a Nashville Rascal.



ethereal Nashville Rascal



patriotic Nashville Rascal



townie Nashville Rascal.



West Coast Nashville Rascal

I almost wanted to call it California Country Strong, but Goldi's got her shit together way more than lil' Gwynnie did.

Rebel (Ballerina) at Heart

Black, nude, pink, gray, cream. Layered. Fitted. Soft.
All paired with motorcycle boots.
Hard. Leather. Metal.
The mix of feminine & masculine.
And a bun.
I am a Rebel Ballerina these days.
Something that was Decided. over a Bloody Mary with extra olives.





sexy rebel ballerina



edgy rebel ballerina



leggy rebel ballerina



unbuttoned rebel ballerina



moto rebel ballerina

 I have never gotten so many compliments on my shoulders & neck, thatsonethingforsure.