I’ll have cried. And not like I just picked jalapenos off my nachos and stuck my finger in my eye.
For the past five years, I’ve fought back from being broke to closing on a home and having money in the bank. And not broke like, “Dang, I wish it were payday” broke. Broke like, “One day, I’ll stop seeing that fancy red minus sign in front of my bank balance.”
I still find it curious that banks charge you money for having no money.
I’ve gone from being stiffed by a startup and left for financial dead on my sofa to having already crushed last year’s numbers. That happened in July.
I’ve somehow crawled out of a chasm caused by Jason’s death back in 2010, following 20 months of some of the most self-destructive behavior I’ve ever indulged in. I do wish I could say I escaped without a police record. From that chasm, I’m where I am today — thankful that kid ever deemed me fit to be a part of his life. I still don’t recommend back seats of cop cars. Cops are also not interested in your sense of humor. I do recommend everyone find his or her Jason.
Every move prior to this one, I was running from something (see graphic). Wasbands, boredom, cities I couldn’t afford to live in, exes who didn’t have the decency to stay in the Lone Star State.
This is the first time in my life I’m running towards something. And motherfucker, I am running (currently: driving) as fast as I can*.
*see comment about police record. My cruise control is set at 8 over.
I’m going to be off grid for the rest of this week, but here’s what I’m thinking about — right now on a sofa in the 360 square foot birdhouse I’ve called home for over 8 months. I have no doubt I’ll have thought of it every mile between now and when this lands in your inbox.
- Too late: I wish I hadn’t believed people when they told me that, at whatever age I’d considered pursuing what I love, it was too late. But then again, I can wish in one hand and shit in the other — guess which is gonna fill up first? Today, I’m glad I’ve become the person who thinks “too late” is bullshit. I’m replacing “too late” with RIGHT FUCKING NOW.
- Friends: You know who you are. I’m not leaving you behind. You’re coming with me. Whatever I’ve done to deserve you, I’m the luckiest girl in the world. From happy fish to wine-drenched “business strategy” sessions to having you teach me to be a better listener…I love you.
- On not being good enough: It’s true. I will never be good enough at gynastics to make the Olympic team. I will never be good enough at coding to give Silicon Valley a hard on. I will never be a good enough liar to convince someone I’m not full of shit when I’m shitting them. But beyond those, yeah. I’m good enough. And I’m pissed at myself for all those years I thought it wasn’t okay to say that. The years I thought everone else’s story was more important than the one I write every day. And the people I allowed to stay in my life who wanted nothing more than to hold me down…as it was the only way they could lift themselves up.
And finally, I’m scared. I should be. It’s scary as hell to admit to yourself what’s important and change everything in your life because you can’t NOT pursue it anymore.
So I’m scaring the shit out of myself. Maybe I’ll be funny. Maybe I’ll make people think. I’ve already got Geico and I’m not stopping at a Holiday Inn Express.
But if I don’t do this now, I never will. I’ll just keep making excuses.
It’s too late.
I’m not good enough.
I’m too old.
I’ve been making excuses since 2004 when I left performing. I’m great at excuses.
And now, I’m giving myself the chance to become great at something that matters a shit.
Thanks for being here, while I cry and all. And I don’t really care if you see me cry. It’s human.
And if I’m nothing more than human, I’m going to call that one huge motherfucking success.
This blog sponsored by 5-Hour Energy, bite-sized tomatoes from my friend Ed, 4 bottles of water, 2 heavily drugged cats, and 2 dogs that have, most likely, wanted to pee more than I wanted to stop.
I’ll see you in Chicago. And Colorado? Thank you. For everything. You’ll always have a piece of my heart.
PS: if you found a typo, it means I’m still human.