Well, I did it. I turned…thhhhhh………………………..hold on, give me a minute….. thhhhhhh………………………irrrrrrrrrrty. Thirty. There. I’ve written it, I’ve said it and it still doesn’t really feel real, but…it is. And so far, thirty hasn’t been as bad as I expected it to be. Like someone else told me, the idea of turning 30 is worse than actually turning 30. Plus, having a fantastic trip to Cali leading up to my birthday greatly helped soften the blow.

I still don’t feel like I should be this old though. When you’re 10 years old you think 30 is ancient and then when you hit it you think, but….but….but I still feel 18. I hope I feel this way at 40…and 50…and 60. People used to say your 20’s were the best years of your life but now it seems to be the 30’s. So, we’ll see.

But…………………if anyone asks……………………I’m still 23. Got it?

Two weeks ago I watched Julie & Julia with my mom and my aunt Linda and while I wasn’t overwhelmed with the film, I was indeed inspired. Watching Amy Adams play this woman who took on this task that inevitably turned her life around made me think “hmm….I can totally do that.” So here I am. I’m not doing anything crazy like cooking 536 Julia Child recipes in 365 days, but I am venturing out into this crazy world with my very own book review blog.

Introducing….Literary Reflections.

I just posted my first review and I’m looking for guest writers to do reviews of their own because my goal is to compile as many reviews as possible. E-mail me if you’re interested.

Today I had a huge slap in the face at how much things change without you even realizing it’s happening. I came to the beach this morning to spend some time with my mom and see some friends/family. After I got here, my mom wanted to get out of the house, so we got in the car to go to Target and ended up taking a little detour out to this small island in Gulf Shores where a few members of my family used to live. My step-dad’s family lived on this island for as long as I can remember. I recall being a small child, still young enough to stand up in the back of the car and not touch the roof, and coming to visit and asking my mom on the drive down how much longer until we saw Gracie, aka my cousin who used to live on the island. So, needless to say, this is a place I’ve been coming most of my life.

Back in 2004, Hurricane Ivan wiped out many of the houses on the island, including my step-dad’s mother’s house. The house was condemned and, since she passed away in the 90’s, all the kids decided to sell it since there was no longer a house to live in on the property. So they sold it, and I haven’t been out there since.

So, today, my mom and I drove out there and it was…depressing. I saw a piece of my childhood disappear before my eyes. Neither house that family members once occupied are there anymore and whoever purchased the land has done nothing with it, so there are trees and overgrowth where there used to be lawns. What was once a great piece of waterfront property now looks like nothing more than an overgrown jungle, with growth so high you can’t even see the water anymore.

I look back at my childhood and remember all the time I spent there….in the house that’s no longer there. On the shrimp boat that used to dock out back. And then I look at what that’s become and well, such is life I guess. You grow up, and you change, and everything around you changes…makes me wish I’d learn to use my camera a little more.

It’s been a long time since I’ve written. So much has happened to catch up on.

First off, life is good. Maybe it’s because it’s summer and the dreaded “seasonal depression” has vacated my body, or maybe it’s just because I’ve found a little inner peace. But life is good. I had an epiphany in May that I had honest to God lost track of myself and everything I ever stood for. So now I’m taking steps to remedy that and, day by day, I feel a little closer than I did the day before.

Part of this is due to some changes at work. I’ve always liked my job. Going to work there was the best decision I’ve made for myself in the last 2 years. It got me out of a job where I wasn’t be utilized and wasn’t working in my field and got me into a job in my field and I was happy. But last month, I began the trek into fully working on the production side of things and that’s made all the difference. I really love going to work now. My days are busy from start to finish. I thrive on deadlines, and, trust me, I’ve got plenty now. Because not only am I doing a new job, but continuing my old one as well…so I’m about 3 times as busy as I was. I. Love. It. It’s nice to be working more in something that I enjoy.

I also cut a voiceover demo last week. Call this step 2. I’m hoping to eventually get some voiceover work. I’m not quite sure how to go about marketing myself yet though. Still figuring that one out. If anyone has any suggestions, I’d love to hear them.

On a different note, Alex and I went to Indy last month to see Nine Inch Nails. It was probably one of the best trips we’ve ever taken together…not to mention some of the happiest times we’ve ever spent together. It’s a great feeling watching someone you love be genuinely happy…and meeting NIN made him so happy. Not to mention finding the used Criterion sale of the century in FYE. I know that 20 years from now, this trip will be one of my fondest memories.

Then 2 weekends ago, we went to Atlanta for Joe Walker’s 29th birthday party. His wife was nice enough to arrange a birthday party in his favorite city, so Alex and I went up for the day. Another really nice day away from Birmingham. I’m learning that these are vital to my happiness. Just a little escape…even if it is only for a day…and even if it is only Atlanta.

Let’s see…what else…OH…cut my hair off on Tuesday. Short, above my shoulders, short. I haven’t had my hair this short in YEAAAAAAAAAAAAARS. Today is the first day I actually like it. It’s definitely more work…and it’s been trial and error trying to get it right, but today I really like it. Not sure if I’ll keep it short. But, we’ll see. Alex loves it. But I still feel a little silly with short hair.

And that’s about that…for now anyway. Maybe this time I won’t stay away for so long.

I meant to write about this several days ago but am just getting around to it.

So remember how last weekend I decided to stay home from the beach? Well, my mom DID go down there last weekend and one night I get this call from her to tell me that she had run over…an alligator.

Yeah, no joke folks. She was driving down this long, dark road and she said she was right on it before the headlights caught it and she didn’t have time to swerve and just…hit it. Ran it right on over. An alligator.

She turned around and went back and saw that it was not moving…so she drove on and turned around again and it was still in the same position…not moving…so she just drove on home. She didn’t move it off the road or anything, but I mean, who can blame her? I certainly wouldn’t get out of my car to check and see if it was still breathing.

The funny thing is that the next day it wasn’t there anymore. I just imagine someone driving along and seeing a dead alligator on the side of the road and thought to themselves….DINNER!

I just wanted to add one thing to the “Things I learned/am learning” post.

11. I do not physically or mentally have the ability to let people go from my life. No matter how long it’s been. No matter if I don’t talk to the person anymore. No matter if it’s the right thing to do for me to walk away and move forward.

It’s hard.

Last week I had made plans with our neighbors to take our dogs out to Moss Rock Preserve and hike a bit on Saturday. Well, plans changed and they had to cancel, but I asked Alex if he’d still be up for going out there with me. So Alex & I, along with our friends Ben & Nadia, took our dog and my mom’s dog out Saturday. It was a gorgeous day. The PERFECT day for hiking and we were doing great and having a good time. And then…we got lost.

I think our biggest mistake was that we didn’t really pay attention to where we were or look for signs. We made the initial trek in and up to the rocks and then, instead of continuing to follow the trail we had come in on, we wandered up to the top of the rocks and found some unknown trail and then just picked a direction. And that’s pretty much what we did from there on out. It felt like I was back in FL playing “which way do we go?” with my roommate Patricia. I think I’ve discussed this before, but she & I would be bored and neither of us could make a decision as to what to do to save our life, so we’d simply get in the car and one of us would shout right or left when we got to a dead end and then whereever we ended up would be our entertainment for the day. This was a little like that…only with less civilization.

By the time we realized we were actually very lost it was about 1:10pm. Nadia, who is a massage therapist, had a client scheduled at 2:00pm. Fantastic. So we kept walking. Then, we heard the most amazing sound ever. CARS. Traffic…on a nearby road. Since our options were turn around and try to find our way back through the wilderness or head toward the sound of traffic, well…traffic it was. This involved a little rock climbing (with 2 dogs, mind you) and a few ant bites but finally we come up out of the woods and find ourselves on a road…in the middle of nowhere.

Interestingly enough, someone had posted makeshift signs on a telephone pole with mileage indicators written in black marker. We realize that we’re exactly 1 mile away from our car and Nadia has accepted that she isn’t going to make her appointment. So now we’re faced with whether we walk along the highway or go back down into the trails and try to find our way back. While we’re all just standing around, Nadia attempts to hitchhike. We’re all laughing about it because it’s funny that nobody is stopping…and then sure enough this nice old man in a truck stops and backs up and allows us to crawl in the back of his truck bed.

Now, this is not something I condone nor is it at all anything that I would normally do. My mom taught me from a very early age not to get in a car with strangers (even though my own mother hitchhiked with me and 2 of my friends to my 5th birthday party after we ran out of gas on the way to Showbiz Pizza…but that’s a story for another day and time). But since I didn’t want to walk a mile on the highway with 2 dogs, I climbed in and the nice man dropped us right off at our cars and Nadia was able to make her appointment after all.

The whole time we were out there I kept reciting Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken” over and over in my head. You know…”Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and sorry I could not travel both and be one traveler long I stood and looked down one as far as I could to where it bent in the undergrowth,” and so on a so forth. It’s one of only 2 poems I know by heart. I kept thinking of it because we’d come to these forked paths and someone would say which way we should go and we ended up on the smallest, barely even there path winding under branches and over big logs and through thorny weeds. In our case, the road less traveled was probably not our best choice. But it certainly was beautiful and exciting.

I had two choices this weekend: Go to the beach and play in the sand, or stay home and dogsit. I chose the latter. I’d like to take it back now.

I’m watching my mom’s dog, Jackson, for her. Everytime I’m asked to watch him I dread it, because he’s a 17lb Schnoodle who thinks he’s an 80lb killer. Plus, he barks…ALOT. And he’s anxious and whiny and neurotic and etc., etc., etc. But that’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that my dog has recently decided that Jackson coming to stay is not ok. And he expresses this feeling by repeatedly attacking the dog while he’s here, mostly over food.

Case in point: Last time Jackson was here Raimi drew blood, so this morning I decided to try a different approach. I was going to feed them both at the same time, but separately, and give Raimi his food first and then Jackson. I come walking out of the kitchen with 2 plates to call Jackson and Raimi sees him coming and immediately charges at him. I disciplined him, as Cesar the lovely Dog Whisperer has taught me to do, and started to walk back to the kitchen when Raimi went at him AGAIN. UGH. So, I called my neighbor, Brandon, who has this strange way of making dogs behave, and he comes over and helps me figure out how to feed them without one trying to eat the other one instead of his food. Success!

Fast forward 2 hours or so. I have a knock on my door. It’s Brandon again with his dog Cletus. Now, Cletus is Raimi’s best friend…and when I say they love each other, that is an understatement:

Normally when Cletus comes in my house, he just bounds through the door and he & Raimi take off chasing each other.  This time he ran right for Jackson.  Bad move, buddy.  Jackson is a 9 year old dog who doesn’t like other dogs in his face.  So, Cletus goes right for him, because he’s new, and Jackson wigs out and jumps on him, which, in turn, makes Cletus get aggressive right back.  It was an odd sight to see a 17lb dog be so aggressive with a 65lb dog…like Jackson actually had a chance.

After that Raimi got possessive of his toys, so I took every dog toy in the house and put it in the closet.  Jackson keeps whining to go outside and I won’t let him because it’s literally an every 5 minute thing.  So now I have 2 miserable, bored dogs who are barely getting along.

Who wants to change places with me this weekend?  Hmm?

Ever have one of those dreams where you wake up and say to yourself, what the hell was my subconscious thinking?

I have these fairly often.  Once I had a dream that my middle school had a spiral escalator in the middle of the lunchroom that kids got on and rode up to catch the bus at the end of the day.  How the buses got off the roof, I don’t know, but somehow they did.  So I’m on my way to catch the spiral escalator to get on the bus when I notice someone stole my flute out of my locker (yes, I play the flute).  I turn around to see some kid dragging a large chain of stolen musical instruments behind him.  I chased him into the lunchroom and he started climbing up the side of the escalator and I started to follow him and woke up.  That will probably forever remain the strangest dream I’ve ever had.

Last night, however, I dreamed that Alex & I were in Paris with my old youth group from high school.  We went to the Louvre and all I wanted was to see the Mona Lisa….only there wasn’t any Mona Lisa.  They didn’t have it anymore.  And the Louvre looked turned out to be pretty disappointing.  It was all one level…with 3 rooms…and paintings that looked like something a 5 year old might do.  It was pretty disappointing, so after 10 minutes we all left.  So…we’re in Paris and where do we go next?   TACO BELL!  Only nobody there spoke English…and we didn’t speak any French…so we were hungry and had no food and were once again disappointed, so we sat a table and stared at each other…and then my alarm went off.

Odd, right?  So this morning I decided to interpret my dream using www.dreammoods.com.  Here’s what I found:

Traveling
To dream that you are traveling, represents the path toward your life goals. It also parallels your daily routine and the way you progress. If your travels come to an end, then it symbolizes successful completion of your goals.

Paris
To dream that you are in Paris, symbolizes your need for romance and passion. It also suggests that you are a person of distinction. Your own personal experiences and knowledge of Paris will supercede the suggested interpretation here.

Disappointment
To dream of disappointment, indicates real-life experiences of being continually disappointed. Such dreams often reflect repressed disappointments accumulated over a period of time. You dream serves as an emotional outlet which can provide ease of mind.

So, to sum it all up…basically….I’m disappointed with the progress I’m making toward my life goals. The romance and passion bit…eh, I’ve got the romance. Passion though…I’ve been struggling with feeling like I’m no longer passionate about anything anymore…trying to find my passions again. All in all I’d say for a stupid little dream about Paris and the Mona Lisa, I’ve learned quite a lot about myself this morning.

There’s this weird feeling that I get everytime I realize an actor or actress has a different accent than I’ve been used to hearing them speak with. For example: Hugh Laurie. I love House…I love his accent in House. So the first time I ever heard him in an interview speaking in his native British tongue, it was odd and almost hard to swallow. It’s like the character I’ve watched for so long is the real person and this fake British accent he’s speaking to Jay Leno with is the character.

But one that really, really caught me off guard was Rachel Griffiths. Don’t know who she is?

She played Brenda in Six Feet Under and now plays Sarah on Brothers and Sisters. I’ve been watching Brothers and Sisters for a while now and just finished Season 1 of Six Feet Under on DVD. So…2 shows now I’ve been watching where she plays an American woman. Never in a million years would I have EVER thought that wasn’t her native tongue. So imagine my surprise last night when I’m watching the special features interview and out comes some AUSTRALIAN accent. I did a double take…and then my jaw hit the floor. WHY does this matter? I don’t know…but it’s like finding out Santa Claus isn’t real. For so long you’ve believed he was and then BAM…the rug is pulled out from underneath you. Just like that.