As many of you know, my birthday is right around the weekend corner: Sunday, February 27^th. The entire philosophy behind February seems to hold so much meaning in my life. It was named after the Latin word februum, which means purification. My explanation of choice hails from the Finnish version, whereby February is helmikuu, the month of the pearl. This idea spawns from the common deceptive February weather. I myself oftentimes forget that after January, where I assume winter is at it’s chilliest, that February holds it’s own place card. February taunts us with the sun of springtime, but still retains the icy wind that chills to the bone. The month of the pearl idea originates from this exact occurrence: whereby in the sun, the snow melts on the tree branches, forming droplets. As those droplets re-freeze in the icy cold wind, they form pearls of ice. It’s gorgeous imagery at its finest. The ideal pearl is round and smooth, but many other shapes occur – kind of like with people. There is an ideal, but there is so much beauty outside of the cookie-cutter.

But as we continue the onion of complexity that is the month of February, I find myself intricately wound within it. Generally it is mispronounced because FebRuaRy has the dissimilation effect of two R’s so closely put together. And if nothing else, I am a lover of language and insofar find the lack of attention paid to this word one of my biggest pet peeves. It is the month to celebrate Black History and it is also full of important dates. We’re all aware of the big ones: Valentine’s Day, Groundhog’s Day and President’s Day – but there are so many more. The Chinese New Year. Abraham Lincoln’s birthday. George Washington’s birthday. Liberation Day in Kuwait. Dominican Republic’s Independence Day. And those are just a few. It is also the shortest month of the year and every fourth year is a leap year and includes long-forgotten February 29^th. There is also a bunch of symbolism and ideology behind the month of February. The birthstone is the amethyst, which signifies piety, humility, spiritual wisdom and sincerity.

Although I may be hesitant and unwilling to accept the idea that the month I was born in thoroughly dictates my personality, I am however, willing to state that the month of February and I are intertwined. For the better or the worse, I have learned so much about myself as of late. And to be honest, even though I’ve been going through a rough, lonely phase as of late, I am falling in love with this whole experience of life. The pain, the frustration, the happiness that sneaks up on you – it’s all a part of the mystery and the fun. I truly am in love with the whole world. :)

valentine's day thoughts.

My first one was spent, caught off-guard by a guy blasting Deep Blue Something’s “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” from his car speakers in the school parking lot. One year it was that same guy at the bottom of my staircase, holding a simple rose accompanied by his simple, sweet smile; a reminder that good things do,  in fact, last. The following year was filled with the soundless noises that accompany a heartbreaking phone call. I think the world was trying to remind me to enjoy every last second, because who knows when it would all be gone. There was the one I spent with my closest girlfriends, guzzling cheap wine, modeling ridiculous costumes and quoting Disney movies. A few years later, it was alongside the man I wanted to spend my life with. He fit the mold perfectly, with a stuffed puppy and a bouquet of flowers in one arm and in the other he gripped a list of reasons why he couldn’t wait to spend his life with me. Last year, it was a candle-lit dinner and a box of handmade vegan truffles – a reminder that romance is not dead, that chivalry is still alive and well. And this year, it’s spent on my own, celebrating a promotion with a glass of vanilla tea and a soak in a hot bath. I’ve had all sorts of Valentine’s days. Some I’ve been single for, some I’ve been lucky enough to share with that special someone. Some have been filled with total happiness and some have been filled with unimaginable pain.  I’ve had the ability to experience it all.

And now, sitting back, wondering about where it’s all gotten me – I can’t help but ponder about how quickly a year can completely change a life. Hearts can be broken. Friendships can be made. Promises can be forgiven and wars can be started. Things are constantly changing, constantly evolving. As am I.

Last year, I thought I was stuck living a life I didn’t have any say in whatsoever. I was a slave to the job, to the expectations of those around me. Nothing felt like my own. I felt like I was losing my voice. And now, here I am, breathing deep, embracing an entirely new life. I am making my own decisions, writing a book and accepting a promotion. Living my life, on my own terms. A dream fully realized came true. And for me, that is the best valentine’s day present to date. Because nothing is more romantic, more exciting or more long-lasting, than the love you have for – YOURSELF ;)

choice.
[ch ois] noun
an act of selecting or making a decision when faced with two or more possibilities.

my life has been all about choices lately.
trying to make the decision between left or right,
up or down, around or over.

there have been choices defined by the emotional and the mechanical.
things i needed to weigh heavily on and things that were more fly by the moment.
but as i write this particular entry, i can't help but wonder if
almost all of our choices are heavier than they seem to be.

yes, some of our choices are banal and will have no effect on our lives.
but others might set into motion a set of events that define, change and develop us.

a recent job opportunity is one such choice.
i have accepted the promotion to shift supervisor at starbucks.
it will open up the doors to more hours and more money
and logistically, at this time, i feel this is the best move for me.
i am excited to see where this will lead.

and then another decision, of the more emotional nature.

i won't go into specifics, let's just say that choices were made.
things happened. some of them good, some of them bad.
and now it has led me to another choice;
to leave it all behind and move on.

sometimes you make decisions without knowing what is right,
you just take it on faith, blindly hoping that things will pan out.
i may not know all of the answers and maybe i've chosen wrong,
but all of it will lead me to a life i want to live.

because while i may not know everything,
i do know myself and the kind of person i want to be.
and for right now, that's all i need to know.

i hope things are going well for you.
and as always, love, t.

A little update; because I've missed just talking to you.

So as many of you know, I've been hard at work, writing my second novel. Originally it started as an idea about the life of a schizophrenic serial killer, wondering about the paradoxes that sort of paramount might dredge up. I have always had a fascination with the morbid, or psychologically disturbing. So the idea of creating up my own serial killer seemed to be a logical progression. However, somewhere in attempting to write said story, I got lost in the creation process. Feeling the weight of insurmountable writer's block, I decided to take a break and explore other stories.

That's where the beginnings of my MAX Musings book came about. I began writing in a smaller, bound journal I found whilst thrift shopping in downtown Portland. Inspired by all of the curious people around me, I felt their stories, in conjunction with my own, needed to be told. And so a new idea was born. MAX Musings is a book comprised of entirely real-life events and so, in order to dissuade any fictional intricacies I might be tempted to bore into it, it has been a slow writing process. I carry my small bound journal with me at all times, jot down stories I feel might be relevant and then edit them later that same night. However, the creative side of my brain is always furiously at work, whether I am aware of it or not.

And so, armed with a new project, I was motivated to take up new ground on existing projects. I fell in love with my serial killer story all over again, but this time, in a new light. Instead of writing it from the actual serial killer's perspective, I decided to trek new ground -- telling the story from his wife's perspective. There have been so many books derived of the serial killers themselves, but so few literature exists in the realm of the people they are surrounded by. I wanted to breakdown the truths of a relationship in a way people could relate to, but still keep an element of elusiveness to it. And so, here I find myself - sitting in coffee shops, surrounded by six cups of coffee, a pack of cigarette, furiously typing away on my pink covered Macbook.

This breath of fresh air in the writer's realm has inspired new direction into my own life. It has awakened and reminded me of my passion for writing, for creating and for dreaming. I feel the best I have ever felt and have loved sharing this journey with each of you. I hope to continue writing for as long as my brain can stand it.

Thank you to everyone for your love and support.
and as always, love, tiff.