• Be My Friend. I’m an Extrovert.

    Having moved around as much as I have, you’d think I’d be a friendship MASTER. Well, I desperately wish I was. I’m the first to compliment you on your nails, delicate gold necklace, or ask where are those high waisted shorts from. Why? Because I genuinely like those things and the older you get there’s no “opening line” for adult female friendships.

    Also – I’ve received feedback it’s off-putting to ask, “Will you sit with me and talk about things that don’t matter but for some reason bring me immense joy?”

    The reality is that the older I’ve gotten the harder it has been for me to reach across a table, a hallway, or even social media and say, “Hi, do you think we could be friends?

    Because what I’m actually saying is “Uh hi, I’m an extrovert in desperate need of people. You seem like a delight. For the love of god please tell me you watched the Bravo reunion and like if not NO WORRIES BUT HAVE A GLASS OF WINE WITH ME K THANKS.” 

    In the words of Tayshia Adams…it’s a lotttttt. 

    There’s this pressure that we must be satisfied with our lives. Like there’s this magical Paris filter book somewhere with the guide to life, full of check mark boxes just waiting for your next milestone. I find this interesting because I personally value the ability to form community and make new friendships much more than I do the ability to have a bank lend you an overreaching mortgage. However, c’est la vie.

    I would say for the mildly reflective souls, there’s things on our childhood to-do lists that as adults we’ve traded in for gingham wallpaper and a false sense of stability. However, that might be my high functioning anxiety overthinking my everyday observations.  

    Speaking of observations – I marvel at influencers. My husband would much rather I lessen my time on social media, but what I think I’ve never been able to effectively communicate is that I find these men and women quite remarkable. Now it isn’t their outfits, pre-sets, or face tuning. That (having worked in the industry) is something I glaze over; but rather it’s their consistency in the narrative that life, or at least theirs is quite perfect.  They are open air kitchen shelves with jars that say Cookies. Meanwhile, I am over here delicately balancing one more wine glass to fit in my cheugy cupboard. Message received – we are not the same.

    Now of course one must insert an authentic crying storyline here or there to be relatable to the masses, but for the most part their feeds are beautiful Positano colored houses, lit up with only the happiest moments. It’s a city planner’s dream of square frames and clean yard lines. Uniform, yet seemingly never happier. It makes one think, what have we come to admire or value? 

    I plan for a living. Yet I find the act of planning pretty comical. Irony at its finest. When someone tells me their plan (friends please don’t unfriend me or stop telling me – I envy your outlook!) I am always nodding. 

    Mhmm. Yeah. That does make sense. 

    Oh you have a Plan B too? Wow. Look at you. 

    My life has never gone according to plan. Like ever. My angel of a wedding planner Rachael (seriously she is the BEST) put up countless questions from me which began with,

    “But like what if….”

    Because, if I’m honest, my life has been a “what if” run on sentence. And while that may strike fear into the monogrammed hearts of many, I have found the most glorious and fulfilling experiences in the “what if” terrain. What ifs are freeing in a way because they have led me to discover that what’s familiar might not always be what’s fulfilling.

    So, to come full circle on making friends, new friends aren’t necessarily familiar and yet I’m so thankful for the fulfilling friendships the “what ifs” have brought my way. The light that comes from a new friendship isn’t quite as magical as Positano – but it’s pretty damn close.

    I think we had it right back in Girl Scouts, “make new friends but keep the old – one is silver and the other gold.” My life milestones don’t quite fit the Paris filters, I don’t care for open air kitchen shelves (controversial I’m sorry), and I haven’t checked off as many boxes as the girl next door. But, this mixed metal life of mine is friendly, fulfilling – albeit not always familiar.


  • She back.

    It’s been a minute. Thousands of miles. 6 moves? Hell I’ve lost count.

    A swipe right, pandemic, and a wedding later since I’ve talked with y’all in this forum. 

    I’ll be honest, there have been days where I’ve pined for my old blogger days but I was convinced I had forgotten to write. Like I felt so distant from the days of typing out my real thoughts that I was horribly anxious I wouldn’t be able to show up even if I tried. But that’s the beauty in showing up I guess, showing up is success in itself. At least that’s what my youth soccer coach told my parents when I chased butterflies.

    Now back to the present day. How about that crazy ride into 2022? Remember how we all started to actually watch the news? Remember meeting in parks just to see each others beautiful faces? Remember zoom happy hours we initially found so novel and niche – and then so shortly after hated and often triggered PTSD? Ah the roaring 20’s!

    Quick update on location, I live in Nashville now with my … HUSBAND. Yeah. I did it. KB got married. What a wild thing this life is. But also what a complete and utter delight.

    When I told my husband I was a writer he was pretty surprised. But that’s what happens when you meet two weeks before March 15, 2020. You quarantine, fall in love, try to not get sick, and all while developing a new paranoia for touching elevator buttons. I still use my elbow because now I know too much.

    This time will be different. A little more grown up. Way more dry…think Whispering Angel. And, dare I say, possibly funnier?

    Also different this time is my darling tagline…. “Everything I Couldn’t Get Out In Time”

    I’ve said for years this would be the name of my stand up comedy show when I make it as a big shot actor and beloved American royalty. Yet when you suffer from severe stuttering, stand up comedy often takes a back seat. Enter stage left however- the ability to write. Because as I ALSO often say,

    God has to keep things fair.

    You know what God also has to do? Keep us humble. Just when I think my stuttering scenarios are behind me, he throws me for a real curve ball during a big marketing meeting during my time working for a doughnut company.

    I was crushing it. Strategy you ask? Right here Chad. Profit targets Karen? Let me show you slide 7.

    However I came up against one word and the world, along with my speaking abilities… stopped.

    You see when you have a stuttering episode, you can sometimes repeat the part of the word you’re stuck on for about 20-30 seconds. Those 20-30 seconds are hell. Because your mind is fully taking in what’s going on and your eyes are just watching these poor people wonder, is she broken?

    The culprit in this particular episode? The word REVENUE. I literally could not get passed the “rev” part. So here I am, on zoom, on camera saying “rev” every breath while my brain springs into action.

    Kristin. Do not move. Act like this was a computer glitch and not a mortifying moment in your marketing career. Act swiftly. Turn off the meeting.

    And that’s exactly what I did. Bouncing back onto the call allegedly unfazed and annoyed,

    “Gosh our internet is so bad my computer froze and I was stuck!! Can you believe?!”

    Spoiler alert. No one believed but my coworkers are kind and I only got about 2 slack messages asking me what tripped me up about the word revenue.

    My reply was and is always the same when my speech issues surprise me,

    God had to make things fair. I can’t be great at everything Cheryl.

    And that’s kind of like the last two years I guess in a nutshell. The highs and lows of surviving a pandemic. The reality that while everyday hasn’t been a thrill ride or a complete delight – there have been pockets where the lows have made me so appreciative of the chasing butterflies highs. Sure I can’t say the word revenue without some severe mental build up. And sure the pandemic robbed so many of us of the lives we thought were perfect and unchangeable. But here we are still standing. Fake computer glitches, happy hour zooms, and all.

    It feels good to be back writing to you and I’m sorry I was gone for so long. But I’ve learned a lot, saw a lot, and overheard even more. I’m happy I’m back and I can’t wait to chat.