Past posts, because I am working on it.

So here it goes everyone...Obviously I did not write "more tomorrow," nor did I keep to my everyday promise to myself and the world at large. But here at least are two entries from the past that were scratched out on notepads and airlines. Although not directly on the airplane, because I think United would have objected and qualified my musings as graffiti. Or not, post-modern art maybe? Either way, again, trying to do better. After all, my favorite quote of all time is from Samuel Beckett...

No matter, try again.
Fail again. Fail Better.

Post written from my west coast bound cross country United flight on January 19, 2010. Or at least one of the three legs:

I am currently on a flight from Chicago to San Francisco. Being in the time of my life where I can afford a plane ticket, but yet can’t (at least not consistently) afford the six extra inches of leg room the seat directly in front of me possesses I find at least a little comfort in the fact the online movie is something that not only have I not seen before, but is something I was actually hoping to eventually see. Granted, the screen it’s playing on seems to be the size of a cd case and is approximately six rows in front of me, but I guess I’ll take what I can get.

Heading back to the West Coast. It’s strange to look at my clock and see the time as 7:12pm. Especially when my body is definitely telling me it’s 10:12pm. Not that I would normally be going to sleep now, on the contrary, I don’t think I’ve gone to bed earlier than midnight in several years, obviously excluding naps. I love sleeping, but I suppose I should probably join that new facebook group “I don’t get enough sleep because I stay up late for no reason.” Because seriously, how much Poker After Dark does one actually need?

My biggest fear heading back to the West Coast is falling back into old habits. I’m not heading directly back to Newport, taking a quick fam-damily stop over in the valley to sort through some stuff with my mother. Mostly, she’s quite rightly insisting I call the student loan people and correct the mishap which has left them automatically withdrawing my monthly payment from her account instead of mine and me constantly having to go to the bank to then transfer that money back into her account from mine. Why I haven’t done this yet, when really it’s just creating a headache for all involved is beyond me. Sometimes I procrastinate on the stupidest things. But I want to really really really turn over a new leaf. Getting up early, being productive, exercising, finding work, writing, finishing the masters. Taking the LSAT? That’s maybe on the list. You know, I think I’m going to study and take it either way. Because then it’s done, and I don’t have to stress about it if and when I do decided to go to law school. So there’s all that. But that’s going to take up a good deal of time. Which is good, I tend to function much better when I’m really busy. But what about the rest of it? Life that is. Well, surfing and sailing are seasonally soon, and definitely priorities. So I’ll make time.  But I feel like, especially with my 29th birthday looming on the horizon, this is my time. I actually want to focus on my career, become a workaholic and create something awesome. And that’s what I plan on doing. Totally.

Post written on a note pad while sitting in a restaurant in Newport, Or on February 11, 2010:

And I’m back in the game! Crossing the country tends to do this to me, create a sense of re-imagining, or better put, of re-adjusting. Finding my bearing in an all to recognizable yet strangely unfamiliar landscape takes a couple of turns. I’m always ripe with distractions. But is writing everyday too daunting of a task?

Maybe. (side note from February 21, probably as I’m just now getting around to typing this up. I’m working on it people!) But I suspect my unwillingness or incapability to keep a promise to myself lies more in my fears about not what I might find (although there are some inner demons I’ve definitely been ignoring), but rather the idiotic and unspoken, almost unacknowledged but never un-thought, idea that not becoming a bigger and better version of myself allows me to fail myself first. Isn’t that always easier?

Maybe not smarter or even logical in the least…but easier it always is. The old adage of being your own worst critic has always held true for me. Nelson Mandela’s coinage of (and I am ad-libbing here), “Who are we not to be [great]?” holds true and even stirs something within me to critique myself further. Self-sabotage becomes a trusted friend, a confidant who is steady, steadfast and unchanging. Something to hold onto and something to count on has me clinging to its familiarity. I cherish my fuck ups because they give me something to better. I push away people I need and love to keep my own greatness at bay. This sucks. But maybe the acknowledgment is the first step. Anyways, here’s hoping…