Nostalgic Notes

As seen on a Whidbey Island walk.

I miss this blog. 

I've been writing over here and had decided to retire this Blogger blog. :-( But I love it here. It's so pretty and I know where everything is and the interface is way easier to use than Wordpress.

Maybe I'll ditch the other one and move back.

That might take some extra tech support, and some time I don't have to figure it out, but the idea is there! It may just come to fruition.

We'll see.

In the meantime, if you want to read about addictions to Netflix and sugar, or other shenanigans, find me at http://valeriewillman.com. 

I Need a Name For My New Home

I'm so excited about my new house!
Even though I can't move into it for six weeks.
How will I wait for that?!

My friend, Tamara, says, "Whatever. You'll be packing. It's not that long." Call me insane but, I didn't actually think I'd have to pack. It's just a few blocks away. Like fifteen, or something. I thought that I could make a few van trips with some laundry baskets full of clothes and kitchen utensils and it'd be done. Right?

The Wind Has Wings With Feathers

In a lot of ways I feel like I'm being born again. I'm ready. Excited. Full of anticipation. Growth, Change. .... but also, the breathlessness of anxiety -- like a gust of wind that takes your breath away. Smack in the face.

I'm going to reactivate my inactive massage therapy license.

And I've challenged myself to a renewed mission of authenticity and self-honesty. And courage. Courage to say what's on my mind.

To live the way I feel inside.

To inhale life and breath out art.

"Gonna Learn to Bend"

What came first? The melancholy nostalgia in-between ache, or the music of Amber Darland on a No Shame Eugene Theatre night amongst friends I used to have. Ones that smile and hug me when they see me tonight, but whom I've lost touch with because of my divorce.

With heart beating, my fingertips rubbing against themselves, I see hijab. I see art. I hear "I Am." I hear whispers and quiet footfalls and the warm chords of acoustical guitar. My favorite.

Struggling not to cry, I applaud instead.

I feel stupid in the skirt and tights I've worn tonight, and wish instead I could hide in jeans and the wool cap my friend crocheted for me.

No hiding for me tonight though -- I'm performing. Reading a monologue. Something different. Jump into the fire, no toes in the water.

Exhaustion Times Four

The number four has no relevance in the title. I'm just damn tired. (I was going to put an exclamation point, but it would've taken too much energy to yell that, so I just left it a period.)

Yesterday morning=boot camp class
Yesterday day=work, writing group
Yesterday night=foam rolled and watched Bosom Buddies episodes until 12:30a.m.
Today morning=yoga
Today day=work
Tonight=work and  then crash in bed asap

Super short post today. It's a little after 4pm. I'm going to look for airline tickets to NJ and then nap for a short while. Then back to the bank, and back to work.

I hope I can talk to N sometime today. His phone died this morning in mid-conversation.

Can't wait to visit him at the end of this month. :)

Bikram Boot Camp?

I'm embarking on another round of Let's See How Long it Takes to Pass Out From Doing Exercise.

I've started a beginning boot camp class. Again. I'm still a beginner because the last time I started, I technically wasn't IN the beginner's class. I was just tagging along. I wasn't on the google boards, I didn't have a manual, I wasn't getting the mentoring. I was just ... you know... getting my ass kicked from bear crawls. (I hate bear crawls.)

Coming Back Into Myself

I've made myself a cup of tea and I'm sitting down for an hour before needing to go to work. I'm working a double shift today, so we'll see how my energy levels go for the rest of the day.

Right now I'm feeling fairly upbeat. I've been battling some depression this week, so a respite now and again is nice.

I need to re-evaluate what brings me back to me. When I'm feeling discouraged or emotionally under the weather, what can I do to nurture myself?

How I Became Stupid

It's 7:22am. I've been awake since 4am, and slept fitfully before that. But the reason I woke up at 4am was because I set the alarm. Yes.

I set the alarm for 4am, brushed my teeth and hair and pulled on stretchy comfy clothes, then rode my bike in the dark to attend f%@king bootcamp. I almost fell asleep on the bike ride home.

In my bike panniers were: a yoga mat (which I didn't use), a bottle of water (which did get used), my purse ('cuz every woman needs a bag stuffed full of useless shit while doing calisthenics until you pant, growl and just generally feel like you're going to pass out), and ... wait for it ... two five pound dumb-bells. Don't *you* carry dumb-bells in your bike panniers?

Serious headsmack.