Adventureland…

… also known as the Oklahoma City metro area, at least in my case—but that sounds way less sexy.

I’ve been trying to be more adventurous because I turn 30 this year and I’m having a ridiculous panic attack over it. So, 29 has been the year of trying new food, new movies, new hobbies, new sports, new whatever.

Now, it seems 29 turned from the year of adventures into the year of quitting. Pessimistic? Maybe.

Here is this story about how I went longboarding, like two months ago.


I am afraid of everything, so it was surprising how much I enjoyed longboarding the first time out. I may have liked it because it only took an hour or me to stop feeling like I was making the biggest mistake of my life.

You must be so impressed.

30 seconds into renting the longboards:

One hour later:

Anyway, for the next two weeks all I could talk about was longboarding this and longboarding that. I looked up #longboarding on Instagram, so I guess you could say things felt pretty serious. After those two weeks, though, my interest subsided. It might have had a little to do with how expensive the things are, and a lot more to do with my general discomfort with anything on wheels.

I hate driving. You know, I didn’t even get my driver’s license until I was 21 or 22 years old. I was that kid in college that would whip out her state issued ID to get a drink at that cool bar on Sixth Street. Anyway, I am uncomfortable with things on wheels.

My passion and almost immediate disinterest in the new things I’m trying this year must be why parents are always so mad at their children… “I love hockey….Oh, you bought me $300.00 worth of gear…I hate hockey.”

Trying a bunch of new things this year has made me feel more adventurous, but not sticking with those things makes me feel like a quitter. I’m an adult, though, and I am not required to stick with everything I try to be good at adult-ing. Right? Right.

I still liked longboarding, and I continue to like the idea of doing it again sometime, maybe even at more respectable speeds—but I will be talking about it a lot less… after this, obviously.

Next on the list is rock climbing, well, indoor rock climbing. I’m sure I’ll love it, and promptly never do it again.

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Bad Parenting

I am obsessed with my dogs. They are better looking, funnier, and smarter than anything you have in your life. There is a chance everyone feels this way about their pets, and maybe everyone isn’t right– including me. Gasp!

MilaMy dogs are Mila and Magnus, and they have taught me many things. The sappy stuff, like selfless love, patience, and the ability to clean up poop. They have also taught me some less impressive things about myself– mainly that my laziness and inability to say no to my dogs, and mean it, makes me a bad pet parent.

MagnusToday, I had one of those experiences mothers of toddlers talk about while they’re on their third glass of wine. It was an experience I didn’t see coming into my life for quite some time. A stranger was awful and judgmental about my dogs, and by extension, me. I mean, I am not saying he was wrong, but it was embarrassing.

I went home for lunch on Friday afternoon to let the dogs use the bathroom and play. I normally let them play on this large ungated patch of grass in my apartment complex on sunny afternoons because it’s calm and people aren’t coming in and out with their dogs in the middle of the day– except today.

Mila and Magnus are large dogs who are obsessed with small dogs. So, a redheaded freckle-faced man came out of the side door of a building with a white fluffy little cotton ball of a dog. We’ve encountered this dog before. It is as mean as it is cute, and it considers my dogs’ needy playfulness as aggression, so they are not friends.

Mila and Magnus saw this little fluff ball and his ginger handler, ignored all of my commands- which they only do when it’s really important they listen- and sprinted their way across a parking lot. The man picked up his dog as I ran behind mine. As I got closer, Mila and Magnus changed directions and ran into an enclosed dog area.

I sighed and said, “ok, we’ll just go to the gated area.”

I was talking to my dogs– feeling annoyed, but happy that there was no barking and no drama. Then, I heard it:

“They sure do whatever they want, don’t they?”

Ginger said it in such a neutral way, but I couldn’t help but think the dig at my dogs was really just a dig at me. I turned, made eye-contact with him, and debated what to say…

“At least my dogs are friendly.”
“Mind your own business.”
“You sure are a jerk, aren’t you?”

I settled for: “I guess they do.”

He doesn’t know N and I work with the dogs everyday. He doesn’t know Magnus is huge but still a puppy and has a hard time listening. If he knew, would he care? Probably not.

Like I said, he wasn’t wrong. My dogs embarrassed me and that man, all his freckles, and I knew that to be the case. Did he need to point it out?

Either way– Good burn, Ginger, good burn.

Most things stayed the same

It’s 2015.

I’m not sure how I feel about that. Really, this is a ‘it’s not you, it’s me,’ situation. Odd numbers are creepy, and I don’t know why. The volume is better on an even number, I like to say hello twice, and goodbye twice. My neurosis. I don’t think people notice, but now they might.

I had a wonderful dinner, and fabulous drinks this NYE. Did you know a boozy Arnold Palmer is better with a little sprig of rosemary? Well, it is.

Between researching studies and open records requests, I thought about how much I didn’t want to make any resolutions, and then I thought about how I could be happier with my life. So, I ended up making a resolution of sorts. I hope to be more deliberate with my life in 2015, and beyond.

I’ve been very ‘whatever happens, happens’ the majority of my adult life, and that has served me well when it comes to moving around for work, and not limiting where I might find good opportunities. Yet, it has been a disservice when it comes to other aspects of my life– namely, making plans and never getting around to them. Taking vacations, visiting family, visiting friends, going paddle boarding, volunteering, learning to shoot a gun, watching more plays, more live music, more ballet, doing another Crossfit competition. Most of these things aren’t expensive, I just think about doing them, and then don’t. So, this 2015 I want to do those things I’ve been too lazy to do.

In January N and I are going to watch Book of Mormon in OKC and taking an inversion workshop over the weekend. February, we are catching the ballet, visiting family in March, Hozier in April, and hopefully a, longer than I normally would, vacation in June…

I, like, wrote it down in my calendar, in pen– so, it’s a go. Maybe being more deliberate is a key to feeling increasingly fulfilled. I love my job, but I certainly want my life to be about much more than that.

Anyway, I was bad this morning, and put twice the amount of coffee grounds to make one pot of coffee at work– even though there are signs, many signs, everywhere telling me not to do that. At least the coffee is tastier than ever. You’re welcome World! New year, still me– whatever that means.

Just Laugh

That’s Sea Law

Sometimes things don’t work out the way you thought they would, and that’s how I went from living in Germany to clinging to an aluminum rod and trying to keep down my lunch on a 37-foot sailboat in the Gulf of Mexico.

I’m a journalist, but I put that part of myself on hold, and did other fun stuff for the last year. Now I’m back in a newsroom– or will be tomorrow. Before I moved to OKC, N and I visited his dad and his dad’s sailboat. I get horribly seasick all the time every time, but I’m on this ‘try new things’ ridiculous kick and I convinced myself this time would be different. It wasn’t.

It was my first time on a sailboat and I planned to take cool pictures in my swimsuit and Ray-Bans, sunning myself by the sails. Instagram was going to get slammed with pictures of my face! Actually, I only managed to take one crooked blurry photo of the sails.

Do you know how hard it is to look cool while trying not to puke? Harder still to take good pictures. Apparently, I only succeeded in looking angry, but I always look angry, so whatever. The sunglasses did help fool everyone into thinking I was totally not about to blow chunks.

N’s dad started talking to me about how the helmsman has to keep the wind on his/her face while steering the boat, that the boat should be steered like a car with a loose steering wheel, and that sailboats have the right of way because… I don’t know…it’s sea law or something. I thought he was just making conversation, so I was all, “Yeah…Sure… Obviously… I totally get it.”

Mistake.

Moments later he said, “Ok, we’ll put the sails up you man the boat,” and walked away.

I just clung to this steering wheel the size of my body, and kept repeating, “Face, wind, loose steering wheels, don’t puke, don’t die, don’t knock these guys off the boat, I have the right of way.”

It went exactly as well as that time I played the guitar, that is to say, not well. Be glad you weren’t with me, or maybe be sad. It really depends on how much you trust me to keep you alive while I’m panicking.

I ended up driving in a circle. Seriously. N and his dad got hit on their faces with the sails because I couldn’t go in a straight line, but I didn’t crash or tip over, so… I’m basically a sailor now, no big deal.

I wasn’t the only one having a tough time. N got sea sick too, but he played it off better, or maybe his sunglasses covered more of his face.

He had a lot of fun working the sails and yelled,”I am like an expert sailor…”

Moments later he went to sit down, lost his footing, and broke some thermometer or something. He appropriately yelled, “I belong on the land.”

After a couple of hours we were sailing back to shore, and I was happy I never actually lost it. Then N said he saw a dolphin and he and his dad decide to explore.

What fresh hell is this! I tried to melt his face off with my death stare, especially because this supposed dolphin never reappeared.

Don’t feel too bad for me though, my father-in-law had offered me some sea sickness medication before we sailed way, and I was too cool to take it.

Sailing is fun. I know because I managed to have a great time in spite of my horrible sea sickness. Next time I’ll just take the damned pill.

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