And this is how my blog is revitalized. I experienced a drought in my life.. my desire to write shriveled. I did not entirely lose myself, but I did forget a piece of myself. Misplaced most likely. Somewhere. So I planted some blue flowers. Promise to forget-me-not.

documentation of my neuroses, eccentricities, imperfections, lame puns & other rad bullshit

I’D LIKE TO CALL FOR A TOAST

I’D LIKE TO CALL FOR A TOAST

No, no, not avocado toast, but I would not question it if some magically turned up at my front doorstep right now.

I still remember taking the risk of starting a blog–

as lame as that sounds, I was terrified.

I bought “herlifeontheveg” two months before I decided to actually go for it. The intimidation was indescribable; the best way I can put it is that it involved me driving straight into the unknown.. forgetting to turn on my headlights. But it is taking a risk that can evolve your spirit & alter the course of your orbit. I often tell myself to take shots in the dark–

I mean if it does not work out& it’s a SHIT-TASTROPHE, then it makes a hilarious story to tell later.

So no matter what, you win.

Anyhoo, it’s wild to me, you know, how we like hesitate at the sight of our dreams.

I mean I adore crappy writing and cringe-worthy puns, so why second guess myself?

It was definitely a decision when you only consider the opinions of others & sit there debating whether you want to be the next joke on everyone’s finstas.

But I went for it.

& I have had a stellar run.

Yet these past six months, I put my blog on the top shelf that you have to stand on your tippy-toes to reach.

It collected dust & became one of those broken toy cars (maybe missing a wheel or two) that we choose not to get rid of…

we just can’t.

It’s become part of who we are.

& to throw it away would be throwing away a piece of ourselves.

It took a stroll in Buffalo Park for me to recognize this. The iconic Flagstaff wind was smacking me in the face, chapping my lips (the worst am I right), & making me wish I was not a stupid fuck who forgets to bring some good ol’ H2O on hikes.. when I suddenly stumbled upon this realization. Kinda like the way you dramatically roll your ankle & then eat shit on the flattest part of the trail. ” Ugh did this really just happen??”

But truthfully, this past semester I traded a bite of Ri Bread for what?

For nothing.

I deemed myself as “not having enough time” to partake in a hobby that brought me genuine happiness. Blogging, as crappy as I am at it, left me smiling in coffee shops during a date alone. & the weird glances from the customers at the table next to mine, giggling at my not-so-clever-wannabe-jokes…

those are what I got my energy from.

Let me tell you, if there’s anything I’ve learned this year in school (actually I’ve learned a shit ton about mitchondria [the powerhouse of the cell] ayyyee), it is that a 4.0 GPA might decorate your resume, but the sleepless hours that display themselves as luggage under your eyes, the missed memories with your friends on random weekday nights, the mere 5% better you do on your test..

well, is it worth it?

You could die tomorrow & is that 91.2% on the chemistry test that transformed your body into an overly-titrated solution.. was it worth it?

No.

Balancing 2 jobs, 2 internships, & 8 classes has led me to making sacrifices.

I showed blogging, running, shenanigans, etc. to the door.

& as it came to a shut, the click of the lock did not even phase me.

&& there is soOoo much wrong with that.

It might require having your first anxiety attack,

an epiphany,

a mental crash,

a phone call with your mom,

or maybe a public restroom tear sesh

for you to understand your priorities are in the wrong places.

Blogging was my morning sunrise, which has not met my eyes since last February.

As I type this out now, I reintroduce myself to it’s amiable rays. This time I promise to keep in touch.

 

Well, as of SUMMER 2K18 (aka today) WOOT WOOOOT ’tis am making a return.

When your life becomes a 9-5 shift, with no breaks, no homemade dinners, no lazy nights on the couch no watching Family Guy, no bubble baths–

When life becomes a shattered champagne flute (the one that looked so DAMN fancy with those plastic crystals from your local 99 cents store)..

When life becomes a pothole in the road,

a “lost satellite connection” *insert robot girl British accent*,

a nasty sun burn that leaves you shedding like a snake.. &massive amounts of epidermis falling..maybe making up for the lack of snow we got this year??? Who’s ready to hit the slopes!!!

When life becomes a pissed off night where you stare at the blank ceiling cursing at the world for making you aimlessly exhausted, yet unable to fall asleep… the clock ticks on as your heart loudly thuds against your chest, a continual reminder that you’re still awake.

That’s when you must choose between what is necessary for your existence & what is not.

& that’s when I made my decision.

I’m not going to live to work or work to live–

I’m choosing to solely live.

We fear the future, but all fine wines take time to acquire that crispy tingle your palate waters over.

So, this is my way of saying cheers to my accomplishments,

but I can no longer hold up my glass like a trophy,

for it’s lost the substances within:

the opulent reds,

the lush whites,

& the sparkling wines that release my bubbly personality & provide a dainty buzz to those I intoxicate.

I’d like to call for a toast.

A toast to honor the neglected passions, the betrayed desires, the disdain towards one’s zeal.

Because today, I hope you will all join me in summoning the aspects of life that have given you purpose.

Reach for them swiftly, grasp them between your palms, & place them in your pocket as you walk down the street.

But this time, do not take the usual route to the office or to class & put down that GPS–

just continue to walk& have confidence that the universe will guide you.

THE BLOG IS BACK KIDDOS.

*BUM BUM BUMMMMM*



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