the light of day

One thing I’ve been learning about myself is that I’m a greater starter.  Finishing..not so much.  I remember in October my roommates and I had gone to Oregon for fall break; I was laying on the singular chair in the bedroom airbnb we had rented and I cracked open the third book that I attempted to start on that five day trip.  I turned to my roommates and said “if I ever die, make sure you don’t say something like “oh Georgia always finished anything she set her mind to”’.  Finishing is not my forte (at least I’m self aware!).  And why would my track record be any different when it came to keeping up with these blog posts.  So instead of sitting down and finishing any or all of them, I decided I could just share the start of some of the blog posts that I’ve begun within the last year that never ended up being finished or seeing the light of day.  

September 2023 

I feel the weight of fall heavy.  Like how I imagine the sidewalk feels when the leaves begin to fall, followed by the weighted white blanket of winter.  As the shoes get clunkier, the sidewalk burdens and cracks.  I feel the changes all around me as the colors on the trees begin to change.  Nostalgia is the only feeling I can seem to name each year when the crisp fall weather comes around.  

A post I started in March 2022, tried to pick back up in April 2023, and still never finished: 

I've been in the passenger seat a lot in my life, and in particular lately, I find myself in that seat more often than not.  Actually, I'm in the passenger seat right now while I'm writing this. (or when I started this 8 months ago) 

The passenger seat is an interesting place.  It’s like getting runner up; you didn’t make it to be the driver, but you’re not quite in the backseat.  However, if you’re someone like me, who honestly doesn’t love driving (shoutout rollover car accident ily), I’ve realized the passenger seat isn’t quite so bad of a place to be. 

In literal terms, the passenger is responsible for some of the most important parts of the drive: navigating to get to the destination, choosing the music, entertaining the driver - all crucial parts to make the trip.  Being a passenger also gives you a chance to do some of the more mundane things; admiring the scenery, sleeping, getting stuff done or pondering all of the what if’s of the drive and also, of life.  

Aside from sitting in the actual seat to the right of the driver, I also have felt recently that I’m in the passenger seat of my life.  Along for the ride, but a lot of aspects are out of my control.  No secret, Utah wasn't what I anticipated, but I stayed and rode it out to see where it led me.  I've spent time admiring the scenery, sleeping, choosing the music and getting stuff done.

***

I started this while Jules and I were driving to Sedona where we were going to camp for one night and then go to Phoenix to see Peach Pit the next.  She was the one who had her car there, so I was in my normal position immediately to her right, the passenger seat.  I began the blog post in my trusty notes app, and then got distracted.  The sun was setting over the red rock of the Navajo nation as we recorded another one of our podcast episodes (when we get famous we’ll release it to look back on how far we’ve come), and the cassettes rang loud. So I intended to return to it at a later date, and here I am 370 days later.  

When it came time for me to step into the driver’s seat and bring myself back to West Virginia, I was begging to become the passenger.  I asked anyone and everyone what decision I should make, and yet somehow I found myself as the only person who was able to get behind the wheel, make the decision.  Now let’s be clear, I’ve never considered myself a good driver (refer back to the rollover accident agin, yeah, you see), so why did I trust myself with this decision - who knows.  

February 2023

I love to write 

Always have, probably always will 

It’s a peaceful escape.  I’m not one to always share what I’m feeling or thinking, a lot of people have told me my blog is the only time they get an insight to my true feelings.  

Spilling onto a blank page has always been easier for me than speaking my thoughts to people out loud.  

I’m taking a creative writing class this semester and prioritize my assignments in that class over all others.  I would rather spend 10 hours on my writing class than 30 minutes on my math class. 

That might be my English professor dad, or, it’s just who I am.  

I worry about myself when I can’t get myself to journal.  I feel like often it’s because I put too much pressure on myself, that the writing has to be eloquently worded, or resonate with every single person.  

But my excitement and passion about writing never used to be about that.  I would write it for myself, as a place for my memories to gather. 

November 2021

Goodbyes have really been the theme of today.  That's definitely not what I expected, but at the end of the night when I was driving home I found myself thinking a lot about goodbyes, or the last time you do something, or when you think about how special a moment is and realize it is never going to happen again.  I saw a quote today that said "I think about it almost everyday, how we never got to say goodbye in a normal way", my mind obviously first jumped to my recent friend breakup, but then I thought about how unlikely it is to actually get to say goodbye in a "normal" way. Rarely in life do you get the chance to say goodbye and know for sure that is going to be the end.  

June 27th, 2020 is a day that sticks out in my head.  It was a normal day - my friends all went to Izzy’s grandpa's pool, then we got Slyce for dinner (I could even tell you what we ordered but I’ll spare the detail), and ended the night in Kylie’s backyard where we made Tik Toks and laughed about how much of a failure our senior year was.  In the moment that day meant nothing, it was normal, I left and probably didn’t even say a real goodbye. Likely, my friends don’t even remember that day or what we did, but to me I thought about that day everyday for the next few months.  

On the morning of the 28th, I woke up to drive to Ohio and ended up getting in a really severe car accident.  To be honest, I have no idea how I’m alive, or how I at least don’t have any life-changing injuries.  I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the 27th.  How in that moment I had no idea what was about to happen the next day, and what if that had been my last time I had ever seen my friends. Sure in theory I likely said bye,  but it was a hurried one, one you say everytime you leave someone that you expect to see the next day or in the near future.  What if that had really been our last goodbye?

I never really understand the magnitude of saying goodbye.  Today, I said goodbye to my friends.  They all were back to college to finish the semester, this goodbye seemed simple and “normal”.  I don’t know when I’ll see them again, and I don’t know what I or they will experience before we do see each other again.  Saying goodbye next time will be saying goodbye to the person I am in that moment, and who they are. 

I remember saying in Yellowstone how hard it was that nothing was ever going to be the same, because even if I was with my same friends again and even at the same place, and even if by some stroke of the universe we were all working there again - it wouldn't be the same as when we were all there for the first time.  Who we were then, what we had experienced, we would be different, everything would be different.  It is a hard thought to comprehend that everything has to come to an end, and usually at least for me, it's when I'm not quite ready yet.  I just shuffled my songs and coincidentally the first song that came on was "Only for a Moment", and that's how everything is in life - just as long as it's supposed to.  

Now back to April 2024 me.  

I hadn't read a lot of these posts since whenever they are mostly recently dated until tonight.  I think one of the best parts of keeping a journal or writing on this blog is being able to look back and see how far I've come since certain moments when I write these entries, it seems like a keepsake,  Maybe some of these weren't meant to be finished, or they could have been and that pressure I talked about in February 2023 crept up on me.  But the imperfectness of them are just life, and that is what I have been growing to accept (and don't worry the recurring theme of not being able to open up my feelings is currently being discussed in therapy).