Nostalgic?

“A wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one’s life, to one’s home or homeland, or to one’s family and friends; a sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time.”

                I have been feeling fairly nostalgic lately.  I caught myself looking through old high school and college photos; fell into old music; thinking of certain friends.  I always assumed nostalgia implied that one yearns for another time in their lives; that it must have been happier or better somehow than today.

Is that not how it always works?  Do we not all look back to other times, sigh, and try to relive the good moments.  And does that have to mean that I must be unhappy with my current state?  Because I’m not; and because I did the same thing then – I looked to other parts of my existence, sighed, and relived the good moments...

                One of my closest friends died approaching two years ago.  I find myself thinking of the fun, the funny, the important things we did together.  I think of the people we were – specifically the person I was.

                What I am apparently very good at doing is ignoring everything but the good, fun, the funny, the important.  There was a lot of bad.  A lot of embarrassment.  A lot of uncomfortable.  I have changed for the better.  Life has changed for the better.  Then why is it that I (we – I think every does this) constantly look back with that bittersweet feeling, lusting for days of old?

Is that how nostalgia works?  You yearn for the good – due to selective memory?  I ignore everything that left invisible scars; that which likely provided the bread and butter for who I am now.  I have no regrets.  I love my life.  I still cannot let go.

Whatever the case may be, my nugget peed in my face today.  Not much is better than that.

Be good, 

Caitlin

Great Expectations

Over a year ago, I started this blog with great expectations as to what it could become.  Ideals and thoughts and opinions rattle through this spacious head of mine.  Eventually, I had this jarring urge to get it out: Facebook couldn't do it; arguing with coworkers was not solving my conundrum.  "I SHOULD START A BLOG!"  That barely happened - on account of my laziness or that I merely forgot.  Maybe I got busy?  Whatever the case may be, I will attempt now to revive it.

I am a 22-year-old female, living in California.  Other than that, I cannot think of anything else that is particularly interesting about the immediate details of my person thus I'll bore you with the banal components of me.  I usually have red hair.  I laugh a lot.  Much of what I say oozes sarcasm.  I can be somewhat obnoxious.  I love pictures.  I don't take myself very seriously.  Etc.

That's me, likely taking myself too seriously.

I graduated college with a B.A. in Political Science and Women's Studies over a year ago; obviously I'm an opinionated type.  I have goals.  I want to help people.  I just cannot figure out how just yet.

Accepting a rolled up piece of paper which is meant to resemble a diploma.

Since then, I have been living a life drafted by sadistic daydreamers: I work at Starbucks Coffee company (not a dreamy aspect of my life), met a wonderful man, with whom I had wonderful encounters which led to an unexpected [but wonderful] pregnancy, and got myself a sweet little Shotgun Wedding down at the court house.

Wonderful man [needs a shirt].

Unexpected pregnancy.

Shortgun wedding.

Nugget.  AKA Eli.  He loves baths.

How one's life can so quickly alter paths is beyond me.

Now this is me drinking decaffeinated coffee [while deluding myself to believe it could have the benefits of regular].

I have blatantly perfected the 'new mother' look.  Old nail polish, nasty hair, goofy glasses, and a cup of decaf crack.

I am still on maternity leave [thank goodness, because I make wise decisions like drinking two cans of caffeinated Creme Soda (it does exist, ask A&W) before nursing my infant leading to a bright eyed night owl grunting at me all night to entertain him] but as a side gig, I'm assisting a locally renowned and successful real estate agent - also known as my mother.  That is when I can get an hour or two of sleep at night.  But overdone lack-of-sleep jokes aside, my life is wrought with fortunes.  My web of support is vast reaching from a large family (including my integral family-in-law) to great coworkers, and a host of quirky and fabulous friends - who have been largely ignored by me throughout pregnancy and thereafter (for which I apologize).

I need to make a promise to myself that I am going to use this thing.  We all need outlets; we need to let our thoughts out somehow be it in a public forum, a sophisticated institution as in a classroom, internet arguments, whatever it is.  With outlets and expression comes growth, hence the title of this here blog: I want to inspire personal growth and change.  I will try to create my own outlet.  I used to write.  Might I possibly be able to arouse that part of myself so well rehearsed in college?  Hopefully with the help of a thesaurus this might be worthwhile.  We shall see.

For now, pardon my dust.

Caitlin