This blog is a collection of a young woman's random thoughts, many tangents, and occasional
short stories and novel excerpts. Stay tuned for plenty of bull and brief moments of brilliance.

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Even If You Don't Feel Like You Need To, You Want To

Sometimes things happen in your life and you don't feel like you should have to tell anyone about them. It's your own personal life, your choices, your thoughts, who else should be privy to those? You realize things about yourself and you like the idea of keeping it to yourself.

But then you remember you like to write. That strange emotions and feelings make more sense when you write them down and share them with others. It's not for the attention or for any sort of admiration, but there is a catharsis in telling people something about yourself you're only just starting to understand.

It's something I've wrestled with the past couple years, only really became obvious to me this past year, and something I've accepted in the past couple months. There were things I needed to sort out in my own life before I could figure any of this shit out.

I'm bisexual.

I don't know why that looks so weird and feels so weird to write out. When I think about it, it makes complete sense, but seeing it on paper makes me feel strange. I'm guessing that's because I've always thought of myself as an obnoxiously straight girl, an ally yes, but straight. I've always liked guys, perhaps was a bit too obsessed at times with them in middle/high school, and always dated guys.

On the other hand, I've always thought girls were pretty. Girls have a very touchy-feely attitude about them so I thought all girls thought like this. It's normal to look at a girl and think about her, think she's pretty, etc. It's even a bit normal to have crushes on girls, right? Innocent, school-girl crushes.

But then in the past few years it's been more than a few crushes. Always random, out of the blue, but there have been girls in my life who have given me butterflies in the most confusing ways. Thoughts lingered perhaps a bit too long and their smiles would get to me.

Being in a relationship for almost a year and a half now, I'd consider myself a very devout girlfriend. Cheating is the ultimate rule-breaker for me and I've never really been able to have legitimate feelings for someone else while in a relationship. I could appreciate someone is attractive, even have a bit of a crush, but it stops there.

You can see now why it was hard to identify if this was anything more than appreciating cute ladies around me. When I'm in love, I find it impossible to feel anything more than admiration toward other people. I'm stuck on one guy in particular and I don't see falling out of love with him any time soon. He completes me in every way possible and is honestly my best friend. He still makes me blush even after all this time.

So...what's the point of all of this? Why even think all of this through or worry about this at all? For me, for myself, and entirely for my own sense of calm. As a constant over-thinker, it helps to understand my thoughts and feelings even if I'm not going to act on them. It explains lots of things over the years and why I was always so interested in the concept of bisexuality.

Perhaps, most importantly, bisexuality isn't how I would describe it. I hate labels (oh, how "millennial" of me) and like to think of it more of a fluid sexuality. People are awesome. People are cute. I think cute people are awesome, regardless of genitalia. No, I'm not running away from the awesomeness in my life that I honestly think comes around once in a lifetime, but it helps me get me.

This declaration, if you will, is not to lay out or explain away past or future actions. It's to make sense of the insanity inside my head, make sense of what I see and feel, and come to a better understanding of what makes Molly Jane so Molly Jane. I am me, odd bits and all, happily in love but someone who also appreciates a wide spectrum of people.

Beauty is beauty to me. Not having to put a marker or an explanation on what kind of beauty I see in the world is strangely freeing in a rather confusing way.

Did this post make sense? No, not really. Do I think it was necessary and will I probably regret posting it afterwards? Meh, I rarely regret posting things about myself (again, how "millennial" of me). Does this change much if anything about me? Nope, just that I can admire a nice pair of boobies and adorable man butt. And isn't that the point of life? Boobies and man butt? Indeed it is.

New life slogan coined.

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Why the Idea of "The One" is Wrong

I have always had an issue with this quintessential, all-encompassing idea of "The One," the one man you'll meet who was meant for you and only for you and will be your own true love and perfect soul mate. This is the person God meant to be your partner in life and when you find them, you'll know instantly, the connection will be real, and it'll be intense and all-consuming.

Does this strike anyone else as utter horseshit?

Something about the idea of "The One" seems horribly unromantic. It takes away the beauty and chaos that is trekking through the jungle of a relationship. If you are meant for one person, you're taking a rather passive and backseat approach to your love live; you have no control over it and therefore no responsibility. It's a cold, calculated algorithm that determines your destiny. You have no power over who is chosen for you and it just happens. If love is not something you have to struggle with and rather happens because it's supposed to, it takes the work out of it. Don't let anyone fool you; love is hard work. It should be. It shouldn't be a horrible, painstaking bloodbath but there should be trials and tribulations.

Another thing is the religious aspect which I've heard connected to the idea of "The One" and some sort of romantic journey we're all apparently on. I consider myself a Christian and am well read and learned in many Judeo-Christian works. Why in the hell would God pick one person for you that is going to be your everything? This assumes that anyone who ends up alone in adulthood is either: a) unloved by God, b) missed their opportunity by some random situation, or c) their "One" died in a horrible bus crash years ago. If you get divorced, did you ruin someone else's chance of finding their "One" if they become jaded by the idea of a committed relationship? If you find that you actually prefer being by yourself are you destroying the forces of the universe?

Personally, I prefer the idea that love is chance, a crazy, insane, beautiful mess of a chance. It's like those little white puffs that fly off of trees that you used to try to catch when you were a kid. If you caught one, you got to make a wish and it would come true. If you stand in one place forever, you may never get a little white puff fall perfectly into your hand. You have to run around, live your life, try out different puffs if you have to to discover what you want and need out of life.

My point is this: don't discount the idea of being with many people in your life, and I don't just mean sexually (but if you want to, by all means, go enjoy yourself, you delightful little lady!). You learn so much more about yourself by falling in love more than once. Fall in love as often and as differently as you can. I have a best friend who got it right on the first try, and I do mean she hit the jackpot. She found the love of her life on the first time around the track but most of us aren't so lucky. Don't sit idly by and say you're just waiting for "The One." Don't date a bunch of dipshits either, but take a chance once in a while.

You don't have a "One," sorry. No Prince Charming is going to come break down your door as you sit wantonly by your window waiting patiently. On the flip side you don't need to be running around tits first into everyone you can find on the street in a desperate attempt to find someone who will hang out with you. If you live your life beautifully, and I mean truly passionately with a fire unlike anything else, people will naturally be drawn to you.

So stop worrying that you haven't found "The One." You will find someone to marry someday, or you won't. Either way you'll still be a fantastic and flawless bitch. We're all guilty of over thinking love and thinking that we'll never find it in our lives. Worrying endlessly about what eternal love life may materialize based on some archaic and slightly religiously rooted idea that there is one person assigned to your vagina is stupid. You are your own woman and ladies, it's time to start acting like it.

If you are lucky enough to find love, and I mean a love that feels so real and wonderful it hurts you smile so often, do not let it go. But if you find yourself alone don't assume you will be forever and at the same time, don't assume being alone means you are going to have any less of a happy life. You make your own destiny, as corny as it sounds, and love is a fickle and difficult beast to find. If it was easy, it would take away all the fun. Be you, don't be the person you need your future husband to find. Don't worry about your future husband or even the possibility of one. Love will find you, even if not through romantic ventures, in one way or another.

But most importantly, love yourself, because out of all the uncertainty that is our human existence, you are the one person you can count on. Love yourself in all parts of life; love every last damn piece of you. You are not the sum of parts predetermined for you by someone else. You are who you let yourself be. And that person is pretty fucking special.

Monday, March 3, 2014

Holy Three (Almost Four) Months, Batman!

Have I mentioned lately that I suck? Because I do. I cannot believe it's been four months since I've posted anything on this blog. The worst thing is that I link to it in my current staff bio (more on that later) and there was nothing new even to reference. I feel horrible.

To be fair, I have been terribly busy. The move went off without any major bumps in the road and after last week from a trip back up to Milwaukee, I finally have some substantial furniture. Within a couple weeks here in Carol Stream (the Chicago suburb I'm currently living in, hopefully I can move closer to downtown sometime in the next year or two), I had two new jobs! I'm still working at Longhorn in Schaumburg and am meshing in nicely with the awesome people who work there.

Some pictures of the new apartment:
Bedroom, new desk, and my pup.

Kitchen and not yet assembled kitchen table.
Living room and my little shrine to traveling.
My little reading corner.

The first of the two new jobs is as a bank teller in Glen Ellyn. It took two long months of training before I started, but this past week, I finally started on my own drawer and I'm really enjoying it. The second new job is a lot more exciting to me on an overall "goal" level: staff writer for FemaleIntel.com. Shortly after I moved an old family friend and former neighbor messaged me asking if I'd be interested in working for a site he was developing and obviously my answer was yes! I started on as a contributing writer and became a staff writer in mid-January.

Writing articles for Female Intel has been a necessary and cathartic outlet for me. The first two months here were stressful, beyond stressful, especially with my new tighter budget and a few unforeseen expenses (more gas money needed, stuff for Lucy when she moved in with me, new plates and licence, etc.). Life was difficult at the restaurant with the craziest fucking winter I can remember. I made due but it wasn't nearly as much as it would have been if there weren't six inches of snow every week or -40 degree windchill.
Check out my articles here: http://femaleintel.com/author/mollys/


Writing again felt good, and it still does. Fiction wise I've had a terrible writer's block for almost a year now, since last April or so. I don't know exactly what happened to cause it but I can't seem to shake it. I started feeling down on myself, like I was stuck in this rut and had had the key to my own creativity stolen from me. Female Intel gave me a couple bobby pins to break my way back into that creative sphere.

Overall though I'm happy with the move. It took a couple weeks but by January, even though Luke and I both agree that by all accounts it was a miserable month, I realized I had made the right choice. Being closer to him meant so much more to be than I ever thought possible. I felt like I had an arm missing. I figured out how to function with only one arm since I'm a strong and confident woman (thank you, DSHA) and most days could forget I was missing it all together. But that doesn't mean though that I forgot what it was like to have two arms.

The first night I got in, I had no bed yet (still back in Iowa City), and no furniture to speak of; I only had a couple boxes and suitcases to my name. When Luke got to my new apartment to come pick me up to stay at his place until my bed came in the next week, my heart actually stopped for a second. It felt surreal, like there was no way on earth that the long wait was finally over. We got into my place and that first hug, that first kiss, there were so many strong emotions wrapped up into them. I actually started to tear up a bit. He just stood there and hugged me and wouldn't let go.
Luke and I the day after I moved to IL.


Since then the high intensity of emotions has waned obviously and things feel back to "normal," but better even. Long distance did bring us closer together somehow. We just celebrated out one year anniversary in early February and our second Valentine's Day together and couldn't be happier. He's my right hand man, one of my best friends, and one of the only people I know who puts up with everything I do. When I burp at him he responds, "Bless you." You can't beat that.

Lucy loves it here even though it took her a good three weeks to get used to being home alone for eight or so hours a day. I will admit though that Lucy loves Luke so much more than me. If it's a choice between the two of us, it's him 90% of the time. When we go stay over at his place, she runs right up to his door and jumps up and down waiting for me to open it so she can kiss him. We're a great happy little family right now.
My little princess, Lucy. She knows she's cute.

Though my Fridays and Saturdays, when I work both jobs, can get me down and leave me feeling fully drained, I wouldn't give any of this up. I feel challenged on a daily basis and insanely lucky for everything that has happened to me. My bestest friend in the world, Michelle, got engaged recently and has asked me to be her Maid of Honor. I can't wait to start doing some legit planning on some raunchy parties for her. Last month I turned 23, my lucky number, so that means this year has to keep going well, right? By the power of the lucky number, I say it must.
23rd birthday, bitch!



Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Finally Moving

It's been a long five months since Luke moved away. Some days if feels like he just left and others the weight of the months can be felt in full force. I am almost having a hard time remembering that this weekend when I see him I won't have to say goodbye Sunday night. No more goodbyes, only see you later.

The car is mostly packed up; the only things that are missing are necessities like shampoo, makeup, and a couple outfits for my last days. I work a double tomorrow and then will drive up to Carol Stream on Friday morning. It's slightly telling that my entire life, sans my bed and a small dresser, can fit in my tiny ass pink car.

I've been getting nostalgic the past couple days but not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. I think that's because I already said goodbye to Iowa City six months ago when I graduated. It's as though I've been living here on borrowed time. I feel like a dinner guest that has overstayed her welcome; it's time for me to go.

The actual move date snuck up on me faster than I thought it would. Everything is set except for finding someone to take my current apartment. I can financially take care of it through January but after that things will get interesting, and not in a good way. I hope people who are moving to the area for second semester will start looking for their apartments soon.

I have a couple interviews when I get to town and the part-time gig at the steakhouse up in Schaumburg. My apartment is great and I cannot wait to get settled in even though I have no furniture to my name so the amenities will be severely limited.

Since I've graduated, I've had the worst writer's block I've had since freshman year of college. It's gotten worse since I started worrying about the move. Maybe changing my scenery will help get me back on track, or at the very least, itching to produce something.

Luke mentioned to me tonight that I haven't written in a while. It bothers me how defensive I get when he mentions that but it's good that he does; no one else would dare call me out on something like that. For the first time in a while I've been trying to write again the past week with little success. But I'll keep trying harder especially in the winter months when there is little else to do.

Besides Luke I don't know anyone else in the Northwest suburbs. Hopefully that'll be to my benefit to make some creative solitude. I'm both excited and terrified for this move for this reason: I don't know anyone. I'm fairly good at making new friends but to be perfectly honest I don't really feel like putting forth the effort. I've been exhausted in every aspect of my life the past few months that any effort that isn't toward making money doesn't seem worth it. I need to get out of this mind-frame.

Anyways, enough babbling about nothing. I have one more relaxing evening here in Iowa City before I schlep myself across the state and over to Illinois. I will miss this town greatly; it has been my home for five years. I have made so many friends and had some of my more important life-changing experiences in this fantastic city.

So thank you, Iowa City, for housing me and helping me grow up. And thank you to the entire state of Iowa for being so welcoming and loving these past five years. I fell in love with this little Midwestern pocket. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Some Days are Just Like This

Today has been a particularly shitty day.

When I woke up I thought I'd go get coffee with my best friend who just got engaged the other day. Upon getting in my car, I noticed the tire pressure light was on. That's fine, I thought, it's cold out and that's probably the problem so I'll just go to Kum & Go to fill them up a bit.

After finishing filling the tires, I was upset to see my light wouldn't go off still. Fine, I thought, you can just go to the dealership in Coralville and see what's up. I turned to get back in my car and realized I had locked my keys in the car. At this point I was thoroughly pissed and started hitting my car.

I waited inside for the road side assistance to get there (which thankfully my insurance covered) and paced the entirety of Kum & Go for a half hour. My coffee date was now ruined. The shining star in this whole fiasco was the wonderful people at Kum & Go who I've known for five years now making me laugh and giving me free coffee.

After the road side assistance people left I noticed someone had keyed my car...my entire car. Fine, I thought, when you're at the dealership ask them about it. The dealership fixed my tire pressure light and sent me next door about the keying. The guy was friendly and helpful but let me know, before insurance, it would cost about $2,400 to repair. He said insurance would cover a majority most likely though.

I finally get home and am exhausted. I try to log in on the insurance website to find out what I can do and realize my password is wrong which locks me out of the system. I call them and after another half hour, they fix it. After all that, my last thought was spending an hour on the phone with the insurance company. That's a call for another day.

I realize I haven't heard from the apartment company I'm looking at in Chicago for a couple days so I give them a call. They let me know that I've been approved for the place except for verification from the apartment company here where I live. I laughed a bit on the phone when they said they called and left a message. I said, "Yeah, it might take a couple days."

From a horrible beginning to a surprisingly positive end, it's been an odd fucking day...and I haven't even started my shift at work yet. I'm already tired.

I've been accepted over at the LongHorn in Schaumburg so that's a plus. I'm closer to finding a person to take my apartment here. All I need to do is find a second job now and my plans will be perfect.

These last couple weeks finalizing everything have been horribly stressful and the person taking the brunt of my stress is my loving boyfriend, Luke. I'll need to find some way to make it up to him for all of his patience. Hopefully his epic Christmas present will do some good. If I didn't have someone like him by my side helping me through this, I would be a mess right now. And as it stands, thinks are sort of going well.

"Sort of" is okay for me at the moment; "perfect" would be scary because I would be worrying that something would fall through and go wrong. I'll gladly ride the "sort of" train straight into Chicagoland.

Monday, November 4, 2013

Breaking Down and Still Being Okay

Three days ago I had the first mild flashback I've had in years.

I guess it was a bit cocky of me to think those days were entirely behind me, but a girl can always hope. It was the smell of a perfume insert that triggered it and while it was not nearly as bad as others, it was still jarring and affected me for a couple hours.

I didn't think much of it, just ignored it and went about my weekend, until about an hour ago. On the way home from a long-ish lunch shift I was listening to the radio on the drive. The song "Brave" by Sara Bareilles came on and I started singing along. Zipping down the Coralville strip, I sang happily to the upbeat and inspirational lyrics.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, I started bawling. I'm talking big puppy dog tears for no particular reason. Sure I could stretch and try to connect the song to my childhood but I feel like it would be a reach. Maybe it was a combination of the cloudy skies and that I'm moving in six weeks and stressed about that, but what I had been holding in for days came tumbling out.

After the song was over, I dried my eyes, deposited some money at the bank, and was fine.

Now this could be a depressing story of the past haunting me and my inability to handle "flare ups" but I'd rather not see it that way. To me, I was faced with an issue, dealt with it in the only way I knew how, and moved on. I broke down a bit and was still okay at the end.

I look back at all the therapy over the years and wonder how much of it really helped me. I think back on that a lot, actually. But beyond that I wonder when I "became okay" and able to handle all of these emotions. I wish there was a more concrete marker for such an event besides crying and getting over it but I cannot find one. It was a journey, as these things often are, but it feels good to have some level of control in my life.

The stress of the impending move is coming at me full speed. From waiting to hear if the LongHorn in Schaumburg will take me (my manager said it's almost a guarantee...but almost scares me), to finding someone to take my current apartment, to finding one in the Northwest suburbs that will take Lucy and me, it's amazing I'm not curled up in a ball.

It's days like today that remind me I am capable of handling all of this and I can make it work. Sometimes you need to fall apart a little to remember you can pick up the pieces and bounce back.

Monday, October 14, 2013

So Many Changes in So Little Time

Oh I apologize, I apologize so hard. These past couple months have been all over the place and writing, let alone blogging, has been the farthest thing from my mind. On August 4, my boyfriend moved to Chicago. Within twenty four hours of finding this out a week prior, I decided to follow suit. It was a remarkably easy decision when I realized Iowa City was never going to be my forever home. I needed a push or a pull of some kind finally to get me to leave the safe confines of my former college town and move on to something greater.

It is now mid-October and the move is almost exactly two months away. The Craigslist posting is up for my current apartment and I'm going to set up three or four apartment showings for the next time I am in Chicago (early November). Luckily for me, working at a corporate restaurant has it's perks. One of the greatest ones would have to be the ability to transfer to another location with ease. And with this great help I have a job in Shaumburg and am currently looking for another part-time one to make ends meet.

I was in Chicago this past weekend and it was probably the best weekend Luke and I have had to date since he left. Him leaving was infinitely harder on me than I imagined, but we've made it work. We each visit the other every two weeks and Skype/call frequently and text constantly. It's strange, but I've felt closer to him since he left. I value time with him much more than I ever did. You don't realize how much you take for granted time with others until it's severely limited.

The other crazy thing about this past weekend was that the idea of the move was no longer an idea; I was thinking about which town I would live in and which stores would be closest to my new home. I was thinking about how far I would live from Luke and work and how to manage all the traveling. It felt weird that the thinking was no longer thinking; it was planning for a very real future. I'm still enjoying my life as a server, even if I've been stretching myself a bit too thin trying to make it all work. 

Alright, now I'm two very full glasses of wine in to this post and I should probably stop typing because I'm tempted to stay something like, "Live, life, love." So yeah, that's it for now. I promise to keep this more updated as a come closer to the move date and with my new life as a Chicago girl.