Starting on Monday, September 6, 2010 (at 4:00 in the morning, so technically Sunday, September 5), I started taking a picture of something that made me happy every day. My Project Happiness 365 started as a proactive act on my part to ward off deep depression. It was spurred by heartbreak as an effort to pull myself out of the wreckage, but now it's fueled by gratitude and a desire to find the beauty in everyday, "mundane" life. This is my honest, vulnerable journey from Hot Mess to Winning. I hope this helps. Oh, and if you're in pain, good; that means you put your whole heart into something. And if you think it won't ever get better, I promise it will. Here's my proof.

Surface: I know it’s been awhile. It’s amazing how caught up you can get in the great things, like boyfriends, and the small things, like sub-leasers. I have packed up almost all my stuff from my apartment! And when I say packed up, I mean I organized everything into a specific pile. I even organized my books: plays, textbooks, singing books, piano books. Yeah, b*tches, the Apocalypse is among us; I have become organized. And I am in the final stages of finding sub-leasers, which is nice… seeing as I move out TOMORROW. Um. I got some random work in Madison; on Saturday I’m doing some yardwork for some stranger… God, please don’t let me get rape, not on the West side of Madison. Anywhere but there. That’s enough for now.

Countdowns
Leaving for Idaho: 33 days til June 22
My Birthday: 49 days

I would include more countdowns but it would become a bit excessive. Besides, this is my blog. One thing I can make about myself. Whoops.

Deeper:
If you’re sick of the story of my bike accident, then you can skip this blog. But if you’re in need of A) Things NOT to do while riding a bike or B) A story that changed my life… then you should keep reading. So here’s the story:

Two summers ago I rode would ride my bike from this Park-and-Ride on the edges of Waunakee all the way to Madison. It’s about a 15-mile bike ride. But I was pretty poor, and I didn’t have a car. And after a while I realized how fun it was. Riding through the country on my bike as the cars whizzed past. So refreshing. I would ride my bike to Spencer’s house. One time, I was biking in flip-flops and my sandal got caught in the spoke and my bike skidded to a stop and I stumbled off. I lied on the sidewalk for a little bit, because I couldn’t figure out how to get my foot out of my wheel. Thinking about it now, it was pretty funny, because I was trying to keep my cool and all, which went REALLY well for me. There ain’t nothing sexier than hopping around with a bike as an anklet. And noooobody stopped to be like, “Whoa, dude, are you alright?” I’m lucky I didn’t hit my head, because I wasn’t wearing a helmet. I finally pulled my foot out and biked the couple blocks to Spencer’s. When his mom, Jeannie, found out I wasn’t wearing a helmet she was quite upset. She told me a scary story of a friend who was biking around the block, got hit by a car and suffered a lot of damage from it. I said I didn’t have a helmet, and she gave me one.

So I started wearing my helmet. One of my favorite things was riding through the countryside, no-handed and talking on my cell phone. Katie was in New York at Playland, so it was nice catching up with her on the phone. So a week after my sexy bike accident, I’m biking wearing my new Retellian helmet. I’m riding no-handed, CONVINCED I was doing wonders for my abs, and talking to Stacy. It’s pretty hot out so all I’m wearing on top is an A-top, also called a wife beater. It’s all swell and dandy until I hit a rock patch. And there was no sexy way to go about this bike accident. I go flying over the handlebars of my bike, headfirst. I land on my head with my feet in the air. I bounced on my head/helmet a couple times, my sunglasses break, I land on my left shoulder and start skidding and I eventually land on my ass and skid a couple feet. All I can think is, “OH MY GOD I BROKE MY ASS!” It hurt so bad. I look down at my phone, which I’m clutching for dear life, and I realize Stacy is still on the line. I say, “I gotta go,” in a daze and hang up. A car of two guys pull over, and they say they saw everything.

Skip ahead. Huge ordeal. Go to the hospital. Pushed around by mean troll. Find out my collarbone is broken. Perform opening night of Rocky Horror high as a kite on Percoset. Go to the doctor for checkup on my “healthy callus”. Find out, after 4 weeks of “healing”, I need to get surgery to remove the four weeks of “healing” only to be replaced with a metal disk and some screws. Get surgery. Can’t sleep on my side, because my scar opens up and pours blood. High on Percoset for a lot of my life, and missing out.

But I learned a lot.
1) Everything happens for a reason. If I hadn’t gotten in my initial sexy bike accident, Jeannie never would have reprimanded me for not wearing a helmet, and I would’ve landed on my head in my second bike accident. I could have had intense brain damage. Yikes.
2) I had been missing a lot before I broke my collarbone. I took for granted how good it felt to lay in a bed at night. Maybe it was the Percoset, maybe it was my newfound gratitude, but I would MOAN in bed until I felt asleep, because lying there felt so good. And I had been taking for granted all the friends I had. I told them about how I couldn’t wash myselft because my left arm was basically useless, and almost all of them offered to help bathe me, no questions asked. And I forgot how good FOOD tasted. This goes on and on. I had taken my amazing family for granted. And I told myself not to do that anymore. I had gone through a radical shift in my frame of reference. And this shift was much needed. I used to complain about having $0 but at least I was still alive! You get the point, hopefully.

Anyway, this is really important for me to revisit, because lately I’ve been letting the small things get me down: rude people, sub-leasers, money, etc. When those are just THINGS. I have such great people in my life. I won’t get mushy, but yea. Yeah. Great people. And that’s what matters. When I’m old, I’m gonna be thinking about all my great friendships; I won’t be thinking, ‘God, I wish I had found a sub-leaser in the Summer of 2010.’ Who cares?!

This blog entry is moreso for myself. Grey’s Anatomy made me super reflective, and I realized how grateful I am for what I have. Period.

If anyone reads this, I hope it helps. I just hope people can wake themselves up from their own simple frustrations. I don’t want anyone to have to experience something worse, like a broken bone or … ya know, death. So. I’m gonna reevaluate my life and my priorities. Wanna play?

I love you and I cry when I think about how much I love you. And I use my FILTHY hankie to wipe my rivers of tears and snot. Snears? Tont? Agh. I love you.

Come home.

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Comments on: "Once Upon A Collarbone…" (2)

  1. Wow, how did I miss the whole collarbone event? I remember you being in Rocky Horror, but I don’t remember a bike incident. Well, now we have something else in common – we both have metal and screws in our backs! hehe

    Thanks for reminding us to have gratitude – I appreciate you sharing all these thoughts!

  2. While you are crying rivets with love, i am smiling rom ear to ear with how much these posts give me joy and hope…thank for that 🙂

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