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Not Your Average Gal

Not Your Average Gal

Copywriter. Content Creator. Constant Sassypants.

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Confessions

On Being Overwhelmed.

July 20, 2017 By Caroline Peterson

Generally, I have a lot on my plate. I can usually manage it like a rockstar. I know I take on (and accomplish) more than the standard 9-5 gal. Full-time copywriter, side-gig freelance writer, social media maven, website runner, in real life foot-to-pavement runner and then those international trips thrown in between. I do a lot.

But I’m still…comfortable.

Comfortable and unfocused.

There are changes going on behind the scenes and goals that I want to achieve in a certain period of time with myself and this site. I’m tired of just thinking “someday.” That means I need to narrow the To Do list. Narrow and focus. Focus and narrow. Rinse and repeat.

It’s uncomfortable being in the midst of shedding layers and choosing priorities. Priorities that, on the outside, may seem trivial, but lead to larger goals.

Priorities. It’s a crazy notion, right? How often do we look at our To Do list and assume everything is important and it all must get done? Then you get stuck in the vicious—but comfortable—cycle of paralysis.

You’re so paralyzed with the amount on your To Do list that you end up doing nothing because you surely don’t have enough time for all of it. You’re overwhelmed at the thought of it! So your To Do list usually ends up looking like you — pants-less on the couch watching Game of Thrones, bemoaning how much work you have to do and you just want a break.

Except that break takes days, months, even years.

Not this time, life! Not this time. 

I must remind myself, constantly, that even a small task or check mark off my list or priorities is a step in the right direction. However minuscule it is: watching a 10 minute webinar on improving Instagram engagements, trying a new way to edit my photos and meditating so I don’t hurt people, you know, normal stuff!

In fact, one of the best pieces of advice I’ve ever received is simplicity at its best: Break down what seems overwhelming and start taking on the first tasks; one by one.

Seems fucking obvious, right? Well duh, just go down your To Do list and check off tasks. But how many times do we remember more tasks as we start accomplishing others? The list gets longer and soon enough we’re calling our husbands asking if he’d be cool if you just sold all of your stuff and moved to Hong Kong.

No? You don’t do that Just me? Cool.

Being overwhelmed can be crippling. It prevents actually changing. But, maybe, if you’re honest with yourself, that’s what holding you back anyway. Change.

That fickle beast: “Change.”

As my therapist says—omg, like, she goes to a therapist?—I’m a pretty damn resilient. That chaotic life I had as a kid and teenager, the ebbs and flows of a career, the roller coaster of the hubster’s med school, residency and now living apart.

Fun fact in resiliency: I’m essentially on my own island here in South Florida. Hubster 1400 miles away. Family, just as far away. Par-tay in Fort Lauderdale at Caroline’s place. Elderly neighbors and gossip at the pool included!

But, even as resilient as I am, change is still hard for me because change can involve failure. Failure is the scariest, guys! What if I try and fail? What if I try and they make fun of me? What if I try and lose money? Even odder, for reference, what if I try and succeed? (That can be scary, too!)

You know what’s scarier though? Never taking a chance.

Never being lump-in-your-throat, squirrels-in-your-belly, balls-on-fire nervous to finally have the audacity to unequivocally dare to be yourself. THAT’S scarier.

Now get up off your couch, put some pants on and check an item off your list. Let’s go, kiddos!

Filed Under: Confessions

5 Reasons Why We Had A Destination Wedding

June 29, 2017 By Caroline Peterson

I don’t talk about my wedding a lot. The reason is two-fold, really. For starters, it just inherently sounds bragadocious, any way you cut it. Also, it’s often tough to explain to people why we chose to have a destination wedding. In my experience, you either get it or you don’t.

Fun little fact: Last week was our big 0-4 wedding anniversary! We’ve been together 10 years now, so no, it’s not all still new. He still leaves his dirty boxers right. next. to. the. hamper. Anyway, I’ve never really shared anything about our wedding or why we chose to have a destination wedding.

In England. At a castle.

(SEE! Those are the facts and they still induce the vomit hand motion for me, too.)

But, hell, if you’ve ever considered a destination wedding because of your love for travel or you’ve ever been the least bit interested in learning more about our nuptials, then you’re in the right place. Doing a destination wedding was bar none, the best decision we made for our wedding day(s). I wholeheartedly will fist pump **YES** to anyone who ever asks me if I think they should do a destination wedding. Do you, boo.

Maybe someday I’ll delve more into the deets of the day. But for now, let’s explore why we chose to do a destination wedding.

5 Reasons Why We Had A Destination Wedding

 

We love to travel.

Pretty self explanatory, really. We understand the value of traveling and the experiences that it provides. Funny enough, we also looked into doing our wedding on some neighboring islands in the Caribbean, but the only time we could get married with the hubster’s med school schedule, was in June. Hurricane Season. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

So many people will tell you this during the wedding process, but it never hurts to say it again: This is your time, do it how you want. We got so much push back, especially from certain family members, telling us our destination wedding idea was absurd.

I believe the phrase used was, “This is too extravagant for this time in your life.” 1) If they only knew the final costs they’d realize how silly that sounds and 2) during this time in our lives? So I should wait to have another wedding… These are also the same people who went on and on after our wedding telling everyone how wonderful it was.

Do you.

We wanted more than 4 hours with loved ones.

Certainly, there are rushed aspects to your wedding day. You have a schedule to abide by and, even as a guest, often times you feel it too. I didn’t want that. I wanted our wedding to be the cherry on top to the time spent exploring and experiencing.

I really wanted to avoid playing catch up with people as we thanked them for coming. I wanted genuine time together.

We yearned for something different and authentic.

The hubster and I have been to 28 weddings. I was in 7 wedding parties. **cue 27 Dresses jokes** We wanted something different. Each wedding we attended certainly had its own take and wonderful, personal feel. Especially with all that love is patient, love is kind stuff. JOKES!

After being in so many weddings myself, I chose not to have a wedding party — which again, set off the traditionalists who felt they could share a few choice words with us. But the point was, I didn’t want anyone to buy a dress or suit and everything else that is associated with being a part of a wedding party and also pay for flying across the pond. No wedding party? No biggie!

Since there were no designated VIPS, this meant we got to share more authentic moments with people. We had our siblings get up front and center during our wedding rehearsal and take their vows to us. “Do you promise not to call then soon-to-be Dr. Hubster in the middle of the night for prescriptions once he graduates med school?” “I do.”

We asked friends to read lyrics from some of our favorite songs, during our wedding — including the Spice Girls! Seating cards consisted of embarrassing photos of each of our wedding guests. Each step of the way, we wanted everyone to play a part in our wedding as a whole.

We wanted an experience, not an evening.

Hands down, the best part of having a wedding abroad was seeing everyone else get to experience the nuances of a different country I love so much. It was so cool watching everyone walk though and explore every room in North Cadbury Court.

Besides that, we moseyed around the town too, amongst the rolling hills of the English countryside, finding ourselves cozied up next to the locals at the town pub.

The day after our wedding, we also rented a bus for everyone and took them to the town of Bath, so our guests could further explore at their own pace. That was very slowly for me since we had a good night the prior evening at the reception. ;)

We wanted a smaller wedding.

The beauty of a destination wedding is your guest list is smaller than doing it “at home.” We had 40 people hop across the pond — which is actually quite large for a destination wedding! I honestly say that humbly; it was such a wonderful feeling to be surrounded by those who were there. On that note too, when it’s a destination, the people who come, want to be there.

Another major benefit of having a smaller wedding? We spent less than the average cost of an American wedding. Yes, for real. (Also, see below.) While the average costs may have increased in the course of 4 years, back then, we spent less. And, keeping it real because that’s how I roll: While the hubster and I did contribute quite a bit to our wedding budget, we couldn’t have done it without my dad and in-laws.

We weren’t caught up in the details.

This may sound shocking, but I was incredibly laid back when it came to the small things. My wedding planner probably wasn’t amused with my responses a lot of the time. “Sorry, I guess I like these colors…”

Because of that, we spent quite a bit less, too. North Cadbury Court and Old Wardour Castle we’re amazing on their own — they didn’t need many decorations. Their backdrops alone were breathtaking, just add in a bride and groom and you’ve got the recipe for great photos. No need to fluff up pictures with flowers and gems and chair covers and bows and floating candles and so many other things we feel pressured to get.

I think this stems from — sorry friends and family — not actually remembering details of other people’s weddings: the centerpieces, what type of paper the menu was printed on, the bride’s bouquet, the desserts, etc. You know what I do remember? How much fun I did or didn’t have. I just wanted good times, good people and good laughs.

Ceremony: Old Wardour Castle
Reception/Accommodations: North Cadbury Court
Wedding Planner Extraordinaire: Matthew Oliver Weddings
Sparkly Photographer: Adam Sparkes Photography

There you have it. That’s why we chose to do a destination wedding and it was one of the best decisions we’ve made. Have you ever attended a destination wedding or have one of your own? What did you think?

Pin me!

Filed Under: Confessions, England, Soapbox, Travel

How Do You Make Friends As Adults?

June 20, 2017 By Caroline Peterson

First day of kindergarten. I’m the one in the knee-high socks, throwing a peace sign. Activist at age 5, apparently.

 

Funny story. Before the hubster and I were married, while in the throes of fairytale-dating love, we decided to try a painting class together. Real talk: After nearly 5 years together, things were getting stale and as much as I loved attending every softball game and participating on a bowling team, it was time for us to do some things that I loved – like painting!

We took a one-night class at a local art gallery. This isn’t the “paint by numbers” kind that most places are nowadays. This basically was like: open a bottle (or two) of wine and paint this particular art display of wine bottles and grapes that was on the center of the table on your nifty canvas with the help of an instructor.

Well, let me tell you about our instructor. She was a badass. She immediately took to the hubster and myself, because, well, duh, who wouldn’t? This feisty chick was hysterical while also providing some very helpful painting suggestions. I kept thinking to myself, I would love to hang out with her, she’s so fun and smart. As the night progressed, I was trying to figure out how to get her to hangout with the hubster and I (and some friends we were meeting up with) afterwards, without it sounding like a proposal for a threesome.

By the end of the night, I just couldn’t figure out how to ask her out without it sounding like I was hitting on her or inviting another person into my bedroom. I convinced myself I would see her again because, like the artsty-fartsy person I am, I frequented this art gallery.

Meaning, I chickened out.

Wouldn’t you know it, months later the hubster and I did run into her while partaking in some libations at a local watering hole and she totally remembered us! We shared a drink and before long she had to make her way somewhere else (if I remember correctly, it was a hazy time…). I knew I just had to ask her for her phone number because, man she was cool, and not cool in like a popular way, just cool as in self-confident and smart. Now, no offense ladies, cool chicks are sometimes a pretty rare fucking gem, especially at that time in my life when I was the Lone Ranger who wasn’t procreating or partaking in wedded bliss. So I ran through the 18 ways I could ask her for her phone number without sounding like a groupie and guess what?

I chickened out again.

I still think about that, like the anxiety-ridden, over-thinker that I am.

No more birthday parties with classmates at Burger King & McDonald’s.

 

Nearly 5 years later, I still have no freakin’ clue how to ask a person to be a friend. I mean, not like, “Hey, wanna be friends?” kind of way. But, maybe for instance, “Hey, in the few times we’ve met, I think you’re really cool and I’d like to hang out with you and maybe start a crocheting club, or perhaps we could watch bizarre documentaries on Netflix about the process of making stinky cheese and after a few times, I think that means we would be friends, right? So, what do you say?”

That’s how it goes, or so my mind has told me.

You know you’re likable and friendly and make a wonderful, supportive friend. But how do you prove your worthiness to people you’ve known such a short time?

I know part of the problem, for me, is the comparison to friends “back home.” My Michigan pals have known me for decades. Some I’ve even been friends with since the single digits. Some even before I had these glorious tits! They know me pretty friggin’ well. Some even choose to spend money and fly down to Florida to see me on the regular. SUCKAS.


One friend, in particular, texted me at work asking for pictures of the cars I saw while I was in Havana, Cuba so he could show his dad. I abided by the awesome request and checked in to see how his parents were doing, as they are unfortunately not doing well health-wise.

“We’re ok. Hanging in there.”

“Good.”

“Miss you.”

My eyes welled up at my desk, like the sap I am.

“Me too, buddy.”

Meeeee tooooo.

1400 miles away during tough times is…tough. I miss my friends and those friendships, a lot.

But how do you even begin down that path of long-term friendship? Hell, even short term, without sounding like a total psycho because there isn’t an adult recess that I know about or birthday parties still being thrown at McDonald’s and lunch time often consists of me slurping down grub at my desk.

I’m lucky enough to work along side some pretty cool people. Sometimes interests don’t always align though. So, what about outside work? How do you expand your horizons?

I’ve joined “meet up” groups and often they are geared towards singletons looking to hook up — which, is totally cool, whatever floats your boat — or it’s all about bar meet ups and getting smashed — which, again, totally cool, whatever melts your butter. It’s just not my jam. At least not with people who aren’t my husband and with strangers (on both accounts).

Last year, after the hubster moved 1400 miles away, I decided to do more than just donate to my favorite social causes and actually attend their local groups; I get to hang with amazing, incredible and truly motivating human beings. I love the relationships I’ve made thus far and certainly hope I get the courage to ask some out for coffee tequila. But, we’re just not there yet.

And I’ll probably chicken out.

 

How do you make friends as adults?

Filed Under: Confessions, Soapbox

We Almost Joined The Rat Race

May 29, 2017 By Caroline Peterson

Want to know how to induce an uber dramatic eye roll from me?

By telling me, unsolicited I might add, how much money you make or how big your house is.

Gigantic.

Earth shattering.

Epic.

Eye. roll.

Engaged.

I have little time or respect for people who use their money or buying power to impress me. It fundamentally does something to my body. It’s hard to explain how much I despise it. Not only is it a great character assessment for me, but it’s also is a great indicator of how little this person may know me to think that somehow that information is 1) beneficial to my life and 2) something that gets my rocks off…if I were to have rocks, that is.

“We bought a house!”

“Congratulations!”

“It has 5 bedrooms.”

“Did you have an army of children I didn’t know about? Oh, wait. Shit. That was out-loud… Congratulations again!” 

So, what happened that we are now ready to dip our toes into the house-buying pool to join the legion of people who brag about their square footage?

Jokes. You know we’d only brag about how many beers our new fridge could fit. I’m fully convinced we would be THE WORST couple ever on House Hunters. 

“Hey honey, did you see the new stainless steel appliances? Oooohhh, I can’t wait to be wiping finger prints off of that forever.”

“Honey, we need to leave. You’re falling in love with this view.”

 

It was a perfect storm of wanting to be closer to the beach, the ability to always be able to rent out a condo we own if we’re closer to said beach, the threat of further interest rate hikes, the tax incentive of owning, and housing prices gradually increasing that made us look into buying our first home.

Something small; a 1 or 2 bedroom condo. A water view (either the Intracoastal or beach). Walkable to the beach. Ability to walk to some restaurants and basic errands.

Simple enough, right?

Turns out, in the current South Florida market, we aren’t exactly opening doors with our short “wants list.” Plus, the house hunting season in South Florida is short. As our realtor said, “Good luck finding a condo after October 1st.” If the owners aren’t getting offers they like, they simply rent it out to snowbirds who don’t leave until April. So it’s a tight window and as most people who are house hunting are currently experiencing, it’s inflated and competitive.

We simply aren’t willing to go over what we’re comfortable with just to join the mortgage rat race.

I know this seems logical, but man, buying a home can be emotional and I’ve witnessed far too many people I know buy in the spur-of-the-moment, and then be cash-strapped for other expenses that may pop up.

Like, you know, going to Japan or South Korea.

Note: That is not our boat or future house. ;)

 

Per usual, the hubster and I are not like most people, and we’d rather not use the prescriptive 25%-35% (I’ve even seen up to 50%!) of our monthly income to be spent on housing. Sure, that’s normal. That falls in the standard line items of most household budgets.

But what about the name of my freakin’ website says I’m average?

So, after seeing move-in ready condos on the Intracoastal with little hope of much resell value to total gut jobs with great views of the Intracoastal and beach to even semi-move-in ready condos right on the beach, we decided to slow our roll.

Side note: what an underused phrase. Especially if you say it with a long drawwwwl.

We enjoy our lifestyle. We really love our current condo and where we live; I would just love to be closer to work and the beach.  We need the flexibility (read: liquidity) to travel to see each other on a whim. We place value on experiences like traveling, donating our time and money, personal hobbies, trying new places to eat and buying everything under the sun with Amazon Prime  funding our retirement accounts.

We aren’t big spenders on the stereotypical items: cars or houses or name-brand clothes. But, certainly, after going over our budget with a fine-toothed comb again and again, until even Excel hated us, we know we can cut back on certain columns.

Side note: Please tell the hubster that seeing my dermatologist isn’t a personal expense, it should be medical. It’s tough to keep looking this good. ;)

It was a good, quick reminder. In the midst of life-changing, emotionally charged decisions, take a step back. Remind yourself who you are and what is really, truly important to you.

So, when all is said and done — we almost joined the rat race, but we aren’t settling. We will still keep our eyes open and stay in touch with our realtor, so if something perfect (or near perfect) pops up, we’ll be ready to roll.

Someday.

Filed Under: Confessions, Soapbox

On Changing Perspectives…

April 17, 2017 By Caroline Peterson

Full disclosure: This post will be heavy for a bit, but I promise I’ll sum it up with my usual wit. 

I recently had a close friend lose a child. At a loss for words, I struggled to even find the most basic set of reassurances to comfort her in those delicate, first moments of revelation. The loss is so deep, the event so horrific, that nothing, especially what may come across as trivial words in comparison to such monumental circumstances, would ever be able to take away the pain.

The hubster and I often speak in the mornings when I’m on my way into work and he’s coming off his night shift. I listen intently as I dodge traffic, and Lincoln Continentals, and he exhaustingly describes his eventful evening in the ER. Often I don’t speak for minutes at a time while he recounts some of the harrowing things he sees. This most recent discussion ended with him being on top of an elderly patient doing chest compressions for thirty minutes, finally getting a pulse and, in the end, eventually losing the patient. Again, I found myself at a loss for words.

This is what I do for a living; find the right thing to say to produce a feeling or action. Writing is my mainstay, my security blanket and often, writing has certainly helped when plucking some obscurities out of the back of my brain to say to someone during conversations. But, I just couldn’t pull it together in these instances.

My words couldn’t help and something shifted.

In a world filled with deadlines and urgent emails and frustrating “What in the Hell was that backup for?!” evening traffic jams and gossip and Pinterest perfect moms and politics and cliques and unending paperwork and dirty dishes and an Explanation of Benefits letter from your health insurance where you fail to see the actual benefits and those damn sour cream containers that never open properly, so you put more pressure on the sides trying to lift it up the top until a deluge of sour cream is unleashed onto your counter and shirt and in that sour cream thunderstorm you know it’s not going to make or break your life but, dammit, in that moment it sure feels like it.

But it’s not life or death. Literally life or death.

In the haste of other’s judgement, I often find that I second guess my words, my work, my feelings, my reality, my personality…myself. It is so easy to get caught up in the day-to-day rumblings, and forget who you are through the complexities of another lens. My perspective needed a shake up and in the twisted way life works, the awful things my loved ones experienced provided that jolt - this isn’t life or death.

I am a kind, intelligent, conscientious gal. I am enough. You are enough. That’s it. Simple as that. If someone else doesn’t see your good soul based on their own leanings – oh well – you are still enough.

So, don’t ever let anyone tell you that your feelings are invalid because in that moment, as the slimy sour cream stream makes its way down your brand new Banana Republic button-up shirt, it sure feels shitty. Just know, it’s not going to matter 5 years down the road.

Perspective change, engaged.

Filed Under: Confessions, Health, Mental Health, Soapbox

I’ve Had It.

March 12, 2017 By Caroline Peterson

Consider this a rally cry for the gals who are taken for granted.

I’m done with:

Being disrespected under the guise of a joke.

Always being the one to call.

Having to organize and plan even the most mundane tasks.

Not giving myself enough time in the morning to curl my hair.

Taking time out of my busy schedule to help when asked to and not even getting a response.

Only being cared about or hell, even remembered, when it’s convenient.

Not getting a “thank you.”

Cancun still being 3 weeks away.

Having to be the one to carry on the conversation.

Being there for people who have no concern or idea what’s actually going on in my life.

Repeating myself to loved ones over the most basic aspects of my life.

Flying 1400 miles to be met with the inconvenience of driving 20.

Not looking forward to the holidays because I know I’m not going to be visited.

Lame, mile-long excuses, each and every time.

This extra weight I’m carrying.

Being second choice, at best, because I don’t have kids.

Always asking the tough questions.

Inviting the same people time and time again knowing they won’t come.

Sharing an important moment knowing I’m not being listened to.

Not being celebrated the way I celebrate other people’s achievements.

The assumption that I don’t know what I’m doing.

Saying sorry.

Being too young and too old at the same fucking time.

Second guessing myself.

My iPhone not recognizing my damn fingerprint.

Filed Under: Confessions, Soapbox

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