Not Your Average Gal

Copywriter. Content Creator. Constant Sassypants.

Musings

A Holiday Change of Heart

By

I had a whole wonderfully witty but sad post written earlier this fall about why I hated the holidays. I was ready to post it when some nagging feeling kept telling me to wait. I try to listen to these nagging nuggets of wisdom as much as I can. So I waited. And waited.

I’m glad I did. Because something happened this year that has taken me by surprise.

I’m actually fucking enjoying the holidays.

omg

It’s started at Thanksgiving this year when I had an incredibly good time with family. Who knew?!

Okay, back up the train. Maybe it started last year, when the hubster and I spent Thanksgiving and Christmas together in our new home in Florida. We had just gotten back from our honeymoon in Southeast Asia. We didn’t decorate anything. We didn’t travel anywhere. We had no guests. We ordered Chinese food. We watched football. We cried over a glass of wine after a family member pulled a fast-one on us again. Oh wait, no. No, that was me. That was only me.

But you know what? It was one of my fondest holidays until this Thanksgiving.

I never quite understood, as an adult, how the holidays could be so magical for people. Dare I say, I was even, cynical about it.

No. Who, me?

In complete honesty, there are some pretty legit reasons why the holidays have sucked for me that I won’t go in depth about. In a nutshell, the holidays have always been a mixture of feeling like an inconvenience and when I was younger, being shuffled around seeing who I could go visit. I still try to coordinate schedules and am finding that since we don’t have kids, we have very little pull over who will come see us. This may be our reality from here on out or we may have to resort to begging?

That’s a good reason to have kids, right? Presents and shit.

This year, I really focused on the wonderfully supportive people I have in my life. I reminded myself again, that I’ve been given a chance to start my own traditions, create my own less drama-filled holidays. I absolutely love that feeling!

We may be small, but I have my own little family of three, if you include my overweight, ginger cat. Said ginger cat also looooooves being dressed up for the holidays.

1916096_10100122116559254_7055218_n

I love our little family. We create some hysterical memories. One of the best things about meeting my husband has been the life we’ve brought together, just the two of us…and said ginger kitty.

10245344_10104782907881084_8742568824750376592_n
Just another Sunday morning around here.

I wanted to celebrate and embrace this newfound love of the holidays, so I busted out our holiday decorations. Remember how I didn’t even want to decorate for Halloween? What is happening to me?

grinch

I noticed, quickly, that I donated a majority of items a couple years ago. So, of course, I had to go to Target to get more. Then, the hubster was on-call on a Friday, so I went back to Target after work…and got more.

I was Clark fucking Griswold. I just couldn’t stop!

I spent the evening drinking wine, listening to Christmas music and decorating with all my new and old goodies. (It all still fits in 1 Rubbermaid bin, my practical mind wouldn’t allow too much.) I think the results are quite pretty!

The hubster keeps walking around our place saying, “I really like all the decorations, honey.”

Maybe he just likes that I’m not totally annoyed by the holiday season and I’m actually pretty happy.

And I have to admit it…I am too.

smiling

Happy Holidays, guys!

A Time for Thanks

By

I really don’t like the holidays. It’s something I have a future blog written about, but in general, it brings up lots of mixed feelings for me. All that said, I think there’s always time for gratitude and I’m very thankful for the time I just spent over Thanksgiving.

I may need to rethink my stance on not liking the holidays because lots of smiling occurred, which makes my heart incredibly grateful.

Take a look.

I took an early flight out of Fort Lauderdale on Thanksgiving.

Ready. See you soon #LAS. After a layover in ATL. 💃

A photo posted by Caroline (@carolinemadethis) on

 

Landed in Vegas just in time to see this turkey.

IMG_6870

Enjoyed this amazing Thanksgiving spread from my sister-in-law’s parents.

IMG_6881

Had one of my girliest moments ever when the hubster surprised me by secretly flying out to join us. (Med school rotations often throw a kink in holiday plans…or plans of any sort.)

(it’s playing sideways. I’ll fix it later…) 

Saw another glorious Nevada sunset.    

IMG_6883

PAID to be cold.

IMG_6885

Took a wonderful, non-sweaty run. Even clocked my best mile pace in years. (So what if the last .15 was all downhill…)

724B2143-8131-4492-BD24-90427BD6E112 D93325E6-BAED-46FB-9663-5B81E0EBE595

 Went shopping with Carlos…errrr, my niece. 

 

I mean…COME ON! 😂 #adelynnjo

 

A photo posted by Caroline (@carolinemadethis) on

 

Put those pants we got her in Thailand to good use.

IMG_3932 IMG_3916

Hiked around Valley of Fire.

IMG_4034 valley of fire valley of fire

Sipped one last Vegas margarita at Chili’s in the airport because that’s mandatory when you take a red-eye.

IMG_6923

Somehow managed to get upgraded with this clown on our way home.

Somebody let these nutbags in first class today. Jokes. I earn those freaking upgrades. 💃 A photo posted by Caroline (@carolinemadethis) on

 

And in between all of that, we laughed. Oh, did we laugh. I’m so thankful for laughter. I hope your Thanksgiving was filled with lots of laughter and love…and a crazy family, of course.

What did you guys do for the holiday?

You Will Always be Too Much of Something for Someone

By

Jazz hands are always necessary in Sydney, Australia

Ever had one of those epiphanies and ask yourself why you put up with the same shit for so many years?

I had it happen to me at the end of last week. Staring right at me on my computer screen. Right there. In the comments awaiting moderation on this very site.

There was a nice, little nasty-gram comment that struck me as odd b/c it wasn’t spammy; it didn’t contain any links and the email address looked legit. I ask you to provide an email address (that is never published) when making a comment for security purposes. Quack email addresses get sent to SPAM and those without email addresses can’t comment. Sometimes there are lots to wade through and I miss some, but I had just cleared comments out so I only had 2 comments to moderate. I didn’t recognize this email address though and the person made up a fake name “All your friends.”

Curious about it, I looked up the IP Address (as anyone can do). It was a mundane reaction as I wasn’t expecting to find anything. I saw where the IP address was located and after a super ah-ha moment (meaning I only know one person who works at this place), I knew who it was.

As in, I know this person. Or loser, as my husband and friends said.

Yup. My first nasty comment was from someone I know. How fun, right?

My website is getting good traction these days – I LOVE YOU GUYS – but let’s keep it real. Until I gain more readership (which will happen) the vast majority of people who are reading this know me in some capacity, either having met me or knowing me virtually. Internet trolls are usually total strangers.

So this one was a fun one. Trolls that you know.

This one made me smirk and say, “Finally. VALIDATION!”

*Epiphany engaged*

You see, I have plenty of supportive, wonderful friends in my life. This person really wasn’t one of them. I sucked up instinctive feelings and pushed aside obvious actions over the years for the sake of remaining affable.

I had something staring me right in the face late last week that said— Forget ’em.

Yes!

It’s funny, I had a conversation with a close guy friend of mine maybe over a decade ago, but the memory is very vivid. I was confiding in him that one of my friends had hurt my feelings and it was hard to push past them. He told me something that has stuck with me to this day. The gist of it basically went like this:

Look, Caroline, snap out of it, you turd.

Just kidding.

Look, Caroline, friends aren’t always going to be perfect or say the right things and they may even be mean unintentionally, but at the end of the day, it’s the guys that are waiting out in the parking lot to defend you when someone is picking a fight with you, that are your real friends.

While I think this is a very masculine way of saying, your real friends are loyal, I got what he was saying and it held true after the absurd comment was left on my blog. (Which you can find if you look through, it’s not tough.) Support came from texts and calls, a comment back and even encouragement on Facebook.

I have a great support system. With or without nasty comments left on my blog.

I realize writing about this event is bringing more unnecessary attention to it and I want you to know the reason I chose to write about it is because I know the struggle is real. In a world filled with just the highlights of the “good life” on Facebook and balancing out what real friendships mean, you have no room or obligation to keep people around who aren’t supportive. I’m not talking blowing-hot-air-up-your-ass supportive, either. True friends give it to you straight when necessary. Not under a fake name and not without a shred of credibility to hold their stance.

That’s what gets me about leaving a stupid comment under the guise of a fake name, why take the time? You don’t like me but are still coming here to read and watch what I do? (Hi. Hello. I’m sure you’re reading this.)

I’d rather be someone’s shot of whiskey than everyone’s cup of tea. Don’t like me? Move on. It took me far too many years to embrace that. Sometimes it’s still a struggle in my people-pleasing head. But, it’s true.

Make no apologies for who you are. Learn, grow from mistakes, evolve as a friend or wife or sister, fill your heart with experiences, apologize when necessary, but don’t ask for forgiveness for being your unique self.

And more importantly don’t waste my time and yours by putting up this charade masked in friendship. Time is valuable and I’m spending it on genuine relationships.

So put that in your peace pipe and smoke it.

Don't apologize for being who you are. - Caroline Made This www.carolinemadethis.com

 

Be Soft. Do Not Let The World Make You Hard.

By

No matter how prepared you are to deal with any situation, there are still unwelcome events that can give even the most emotionally equipped person a nice case of whiplash.

The emotions are swift. A rogue wave of sorts. You can’t turn your face quick enough as it’s frigid force smashes into you, soaking your clothes, leaving you gasping for air at its bone-chilling temperature. Finally able to gather your breath, you gently shake off your clothes and quietly say,

“Where did THAT come from?”

Recently, the selfish, exploitative actions of someone I know delivered a swift punch to my gut and caused a very visceral reaction.

I felt like spikes were going to shoot out of my spine. I was unusually pissed off for what was, and still is, an all-together sad situation.

In these moments, I get mad at the world and immediately want to put on armor; shield myself from the other manipulative stunts this person may bring into my corner of the universe.

It’s in those knee-jerk, “I’ll show ’em”, “Fine! Then I’ll take all of my toys and just go home” moments, that I have to remember how very seldom I actually feel this way.

Because in reality, it doesn’t last long.

Perhaps it’s part of my stubborn will to refuse to believe that evil outweighs the good in the world.

I will not let the disingenuous actions of someone else define my reality, which is surrounded by supportive, loving souls. This world is a wonderful place and I won’t let anyone shatter that belief.

I will not let it make me hard.

besoft4

 

But I deserve it.

By

I guess it can be called a pet peeve of mine, since it makes my hair stand on end the second it comes out of someone’s mouth. Interestingly, it happens on House Hunters a lot. The couple looking for a home has a laundry list of “must-haves” that their realtor can’t possibly meet except to go over their initial budget. Once the couple narrows down their choice of houses from 3 to 1, the conversation sometimes goes like this:

But, it’s over our budget.

Yes, but that back yard and the stainless steel appliances?

We could maybe make it work…

Those granite counter tops and hard wood floors are something we’ve always wanted.

Yeah. They are nice…

Come on, honey. We deserve it. 

*Cue to the house choice that is over budget but is everything the couple feels they deserve.*

 

Back up the train. No. Just no.

They don’t deserve any of that.

Let me age myself by 30 years and give you…

 

A quick list of what you deserve in life:

  • Love
  • An education
  • A roof over your head
  • A full belly
  • Happiness

 

The last of which…can’t be bought because you deserve granite counter-tops.

The Glorification of Busy

By

sobusy

My iPhone screen shattered this past weekend. (I don’t want to talk about it…) I waited nearly 4 years to upgrade my old phone and fell madly in love with my new iPhone 6. We made out a couple times.

Anyway, I turned off my cracked phone earlier this week (as requested by Apple) until my scheduled appointment to fix it yesterday.

I didn’t tell anyone about turning off my phone, except the hubster, because 1) I know I’m not that popular and 2) I didn’t actually want to talk to anyone, so it worked out! Know what happens in 2 days when you don’t have a phone?

You’re quickly reminded how inconsequential your life is.

No, really. Not in a bad sense. In sort of a refreshing sense.

Sadly, I turned on my phone in the morning to see if anyone called or texted.

bjdallbymyself

Just 1 text.

I kept it on throughout the morning (bad!) and I got 2 more texts.

That’s it.

The world still rotated on its axis. Stocks didn’t plummet. Justin Timberlake is still married. (sigh.)

In general, I’m a busy gal. Much like one of my favorite bloggers, I thrive on busy. As Roni says:

“Not busy for busy's sake busy but truly busy with lots of projects, activities and things I'm trying to accomplish.”

I’m always, always juggling a few outside projects and I’ve had an extremely busy, pressure-filled couple months at just work alone. Not to mention trying to train for a half marathon, this blog, etc., etc., the list goes on and on. But so does yours, right?

My point is, we’re not all as busy as we think we are.

Turning off my phone made that perfectly clear.

I’m so beyond all the excuses of how much busier another person is than me or you or your mama.

I have a girlfriend who I swear to baby Jesus is always sick. (Not life threatening. I’m not that cold.) Every single time I talk to her, she’s sick. Sick and busy. Just so so so so so SO busy. You know what that’s like to call after a while? Sort of exhausting. I don’t want to add to her busy schedule that she makes abundantly clear to me by calling and interrupting. And that’s exactly how it comes across when I’m basically making her more busy by talking to me. This happened for years…so I stopped calling.

glorification of busy

Ever send or return something to someone and fail to hear if they got it? Even an email. Then you wonder if they got it, so you wait the appropriate amount of time (you know, weeks) to ask if they got it, only to be blown off with the incredibly cliché and typical:

Oh sorry. Yeah. You know how busy we are. 

Yeah, I do. Guess what? We’re all busy! Busy or not, rude is rude. I’m not even looking for a thank you. I’m looking for a “Hey, got it!” But that’s too much for people who are too busy.

Let’s set aside forgetfulness for the moment. It happens to all of us and people understand because everyone has been there. Sometimes I totally forget to call or text back or tell someone, “Got your email. On it. Sorry I haven’t responded yet.”

carolinemadethis

…I was “busy” taking selfies of perfecting my top bun and FINALLY earning my chick card.

But a constant forgetfulness that’s attributed to being “so busy all the time” is just a crutch for being careless in my humble opinion.

I realize there’s a psychological undertone to all of this. People who are “always busy” probably feel they’re contributing something. There is a very primal need for you and me to know we are valued. Perhaps their value is wrapped tightly around the idea of busyness.

But at what point do you become so consumed with your own type of busy, that you forget you’re not the only one who is?

Unless you’re a diplomat stuck in very real deliberations for world peace, your busy is no more significant than mine.

Busy is such an incredibly relative term.

So let’s stop it. Let’s stop the glorification of busy.

glorification of busy