it takes two.

I sat on a big green couch the other day and filled a good friend of mine in on some recent stresses/dramas/fires that needed to put out...I spoke for what seemed like forever, getting myself heated over the whole thing all over again. I finished with, "I don't know why I do this to myself...what do you think?"

She simply replied, "It takes two, Rachel."

Nothing profound there. We've all heard it a million times. So I don't know why, on this particular Sunday night, it suddenly resonates. It takes two... It takes two to make any relationship work. Whether it's referring to a boy, a friend, a sister, etc it requires two parties trying to make the effort, compromising, communicating, relearning what they think they know. Relationships fall apart when one is giving far more than the other. I can certainly attest to that.

It also takes two to perpetuate drama.
True story.

I can blame whomever I want for whatever I want to, but the fact of the matter is... I still participate. I still respond. I even instigate it every now & again. And for what? I always know the outcome. No one wins. It's just an addiction...an addiction to drama.

No one can make you miserable unless you let them in close enough to allow it.

Instead of putting oneself out there and then regretting it/beating your head against that exact same wall immediately after, learn how to walk in the other direction. And quickly. It's a complete re-training of everything I know... but sweet baby Jesus, I know it'll be worth it.

No more recycling.

Me: He can't "Hey you" me!
Friend: No, he definitely can't "Hey you" you.

Why is it that guys think they can text you, completely out of the blue, and it always starts with "Hey you.." Trust me, I've been around the block, I'm experienced in the game. If you're texting me randomly after being totally okay no communication for however long, one of 3 things is happening...1) You're drunk 2) You haven't been laid in awhile 3) Your girlfriend and you just broke up.

You can't play a player, fellas.

Contradictory to what many may say/think...Boyfriends/boy toys (whatever he was) are not recyclable. Please let me testify to that fact until I have no voice to preach on.

I read a great book years ago when me and my ex were "trying to make it work" for the 29th time. The book was called...
It's Called A Break Up Because It's Broken. Brilliant, right?

Now if only it were that simple...

But the facts are the facts.
All those reasons you broke up, that you were unhappy, you wrote him a novel via text & then turned off your phone, that you slept in separate rooms because you thought you might kill him if he was within reach...9 times out of 10, those reasons still ring true this very moment. No matter what text messages he may send you, how he may plead, how you may romanticize about "the good times"...those "good times" obviously didn't keep you afloat in your relationship. Therefore, they aren't going to keep your head above water now. And let's just say, if he really loved you, he'd be stepping up and proving it. Nothing in the world is worth fighting for more than love. And TEXTING IT isn't proving jackshit. Just so we're clear.

Obviously, I'm on my soapbox for a reason...some friends that just won't listen to any advice. Particular family members who drive me crazy with their on and off again-ness. And ultimately, myself...because I too fall victim to this "let's beat a dead horse" cycle.

Another resolution for 2012.
No more recycling.

own it.

I only blog when it's late and I should be in bed reading my gossip magazine. I certainly shouldn't be online, contemplating life, and blogging about it. But then again, when have I ever done anything that I'm "supposed" to do..?

Time to start owning things. Taking responsibility for what I do and where I'm headed.
It's that age-old philosophy of "Only you can control your happiness" or something like that. It's cliche, and it sounds pretty damn generic. If you're anything like me, I need specifics...how do I control it? Where do I turn this ship? Is it going to be hard? What exactly do I have to give up? Can't I just pawn this off on someone else?

Um, wake up call Rachel.
You've been pawning it off on everyone else.
And look where it's gotten you...

Dun Dun Dun

January has been a confusing month in some ways (love/relationships...things I'll probably never get right even if God himself delivers Mr. Right to my door), however, there's also a lot to be excited for. I'm excited to get into the studio and finish up my EP. I'm excited for the photo shoot. I'm excited to assemble the new band and completely gut/renovate/re-work my show in every way. I'm excited for all the meetings and advice/suggestions being thrown my way. I'm absorbing it like a sponge. I'm excited for all the co-writes coming up in the next couple weeks with people I highly respect and much to my stupidity, haven't written with in far too long. I'm excited to make music "full time" again, and this time, fully commit.

Own it.

Own my dreams, my goals...and don't make bullshit excuses as to why it's not happening. Own my plans, my motivation and follow through. Own my feelings and don't let them drive me crazy. Own my opinions and expectations and don't settle for anything less, don't back down if it's worth the fight. Own my mistakes...acknowledge when I'm stupid, learn what I need to learn, and try hard as hell not to repeat these moments of utter stupidity again.

Smell what I'm stepping in? Good ;)

Insanity at it's finest.

Here's the thing.
I apparently don't know how to "stay on my best behavior". I can barely comprehend what that statement even means. Should I interpret as I should be running as far as humanly possible away from the drama? Because if so, I seem to run straight into the fire each and every time. Without fail. Don't know what attracts me to the flame, but it's there. And it's irritating. Especially in this last week.

I should know better, but evidently, I still don't.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not out there Lindsay Lohan-ing it up by any means or anything like that. It's just certain situations, certain conversations, certain individuals that will remind me every now and then how far I haven't quite come yet. And unfortunately, several of these conversations/individuals have decided to pop up within my first week of 2012.

So ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the confessions of an attention-whore. This addiction will get you each and every time and it's rarely ever worth it. There are so many more important things in this world than making sure you always have something to do, somewhere to go, someone constantly entertaining you, boys chasing you 24/7.

Now, what all those other "things" are, I have yet to know...but I'm committing myself to the task of finding out.

My "love language"

The holidays were insane here. And from the sounds of it, it was insane everywhere.
My house was never so full of people and dogs and food and presents than it was yesterday. I'm still recovering, which is bad news for me considering I have to drive 8 hours back to Nashville tomorrow. I swear, every time I come home it doesn't feel like long enough. However, when I feel guilted that I haven't seen people as frequently as they/I would have liked, I have to remind myself that I do make the long haul from Tennessee to Michigan more often than most (at least every 3 months). So, I guess that makes me feel a little better. It was funny tonight though, talking with old friends from high school over beers and glasses of wine at a local restaurant, about our family life... I would say with utmost certainty that I'm closer with my family than most people I grew up with, even people that I'm currently friends with now in Nashville. No doubt that it's a blessing, but it doesn't come without consequence. I definitely feel the strain like I could have spent more time with "so and so" every time I load up the car to drive back. But 8 hours later, when I'm exhausted from my drive back, I tend to forgive myself and praise God that me & the Buick made it yet another 1000 mile trip.

Been talking to a lot of people about the current book I'm reading/listening to on audio book called "The Five Love Languages". I asked everyone at dinner tonight and it sparked a rather interesting conversation. According to this book, everyone has a dominant "love language". And if your partner doesn't recognize/understand that language then communication within that relationship pretty much a fruitless effort. It says that out of the following, one is dominant over all in your "love language": Words of Affirmations, Quality Time, Receiving Gifts, Acts of Service, and Physical Touch.

While listening to this book on the trip up, I related to my most recent ex-boyfriends (which I've only had 2 ex-boyfriends for this year, if you were counting). I think I've nailed down what each one of their individual "love language" was, which was mind stimulating enough. Then the second half of the book is determining what yours is. I'm pretty sure I've got that pegged as well. However, that is for another blog entry. One in which I have more time and I will be not quite so buzzed from cheap local Pinot Noir.

Until next time, sweet blog o' mine ;)

When you come from crazy...

I'm in Michigan.
'Nuff said.

Just kidding :)

I spent the afternoon with my sisters and my brother, trying to finish up the Christmas gift for our parents, that once again, we were piecing together at the very last minute. It was during our "soap opera/fake family meltdown" in the middle of Belleville's Walmart, amongst the inappropriate comments and the pulling of each other's hair, I realized...I have no hope of ever being 'normal'. My brother and I singing Adele (throwing in some crazy interpretive dance moves) throughout our kitchen and creating completely vulgar song parodies and raps in a serious manner. Again, not so normal. When my sister and I danced nonstop for hours in the local bar last night like we were in a never-ending Zumba class, full of dips, Michael Jackson moves, cheerleading jumps, and her holding my head to her chest (considering I'm 5'1 and she's 5'11...it just seemed natural), only breaking to go swig on OJ and vodka out of a water bottle in the bathroom. Again, not normal.

My grandmother asked me yesterday, "So do you think you and ___ broke up because he met our crazy family?" Wow, Granny...way to put the pin to the balloon. Actually, no, I don't. However, I will say that seeing the root of my craziness was probably a bit eye-opening for him. My sister proceeds to add salt to the wound by saying, "Yeah, from here on out, I'll meet your new boyfriend when you're married." Great. This said by the girl who's had the same boyfriend for 4 years. If I make it to 4 months, I'm impressed with myself. Apparently I didn't inherit the "committment" gene.

So yes, I've been single less than 3 weeks now and yes, I've gone out with several different gentlemen. Most of them didn't go beyond the 2nd date. Butttt...that doesn't mean that I don't want a "relationship" persay. Or that I wouldn't like to keep someone around longer than a few months, especially after meeting mi familia. I guess this is where we separate the weak from the strong, the boys from the men. If meeting my family aids in this, then so be it. Because let it be said, I've never laughed harder, fought louder, danced crazier, or just been downright entertained than when I come home to see my family.

At this very moment, my little bubsy Nolan is reached for my phone that's right beside me. Might not be a bad idea to turn over my cell to a one year old. I'm sure he'd make better decisions with it than me.

...

And now I'm distracted because Mom's demanding my help in the kitchen for our big Polish feast tonight. This should be amusing.
Me. My mother. In a kitchen.
Someone make a YouTube video of this please.

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!

Time-out.

Had a friend text me tonight and asked how I was doing. I responded with the typical "Oh, things are great. Super busy, but I'm good." I then got the response of "No, really...how are you doing?" Kind of stopped me in my tracks for a minute.

Let's just say this much...
I cannot possibly keep up with myself these days. And to be quite honest with you, I probably don't wouldn't want to anyway.

I am looking soooo forward to a week away from everything & everyone but my crazy/hysterical family in Michigan. I never think of my time in Michigan as a time to "rejunvenate" or "re-prioritize" by any means, but being around people who know you/love you/accept you through and through is a comfort you only know with your family. I can't wait. And seeing my little peanut excites me in ways I cannot even explain. Seriously. I've had a half bottle of Chardonnay with my co-workers after our shift tonight and I literally cannot explain it ;)