I haven’t talked about it much to many people, unless you’ve asked me point blank, but the rumors are true: I found a condo!! Firstly, yup, I’m super jazzed. I’m now addicted as f#$k to Pinterest, Craigslist, and OfferUp. I bought a graph notebook and have been playing around with ideas for how I want to set up each room…
…complete with little graph paper furniture that I can rearrange.
Continue reading Adulting: Buying a Condo, Part II: Yep, I’m Single
Remember that one time I said I was ready to buy a condo? That was due in part to the fact that I was done focusing on finding a husband/relationship (you know, whichever comes first). I was never giving up on finding a mate, but I was no longer going to make it my sole focus.
Earlier this week, I saw a condo in Oak Park for a second time that I’m really digging. Driving there, I started to have a mini-panic attack. What was I doing?! Was I really going to replace my desire to find a man with my desire to buy a home? Was I really ready to give up on men being my #1 priority????
Okay, so of course, men were/are not my no. 1 priority, but finding one of my soulmates was/is up there on my to-do list. I know that by buying my own place it doesn’t mean I can’t still find and/or look for a mate, but it does take my thoughts away from the husband-finding process. Which, I KNOW is a good thing, but it’s darn scary! I’ve spent so much time and energy looking for *the one* that I think I’m going through withdrawals.
So, yea, guys, I’m freaking out a little. It’s definitely first-time-home-buyer jitters. But it’s also this worry that I’m making a mistake by not prioritizing my love life.
As 2017 comes to a close and I prepare for the last crappy dinner party of the year, I wanted to write a post about how thankful I am for my friendships.
There’s this saying that friendships are either for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. I’m sure you can think of a friend who was only in your life long enough to teach you something or to show you the way {reason}. Maybe you have a friendship that lasted only while you were employed at the same place, attending the same school, or playing on the same sports team {season}. And many of us are lucky enough to have friendships that’ve lasted through it all and those friends that will stand by you no matter what {lifetime}.
As I was lamenting the end of a friendship while sitting on my therapist’s couch a while back, she told me, “Ashley, what if you still had all of the friends you’d ever made? How would you have time for all of them? You wouldn’t! And they wouldn’t all have time for you.” She’s right (as she typically is). Yes, it is sad when a friendship ends. Two-fold silver lining, though:
And with all of those wonderful friendships I have, we do some really wonderful things together. Here are some of my favorites:
Crappy Dinner Parties
Even though I live by myself, pay taxes, contribute $400 a month to my 403b, spend way too much money at the grocery store on all-natural and organic foods, no longer have student loans, own my own car, and work a 9-5, I still don’t feel like an adult. I keep thinking that maybe I’ll truly feel like an adult when I get married or have kids or buy a house. I don’t feel like a child or even a young adult, but I just don’t feel like…my parents.
There are some perks to not feeling like an adult. I still look youthful, I get lots of birthday and Christmas presents from my family, and no one seems to expect me to bring anything to the holiday family get-togethers.
Recently, though, I got the itch to buy my own place. I’ve lived in Chicago for five years and for 4 years and 11 months of that, I had no desire to own a house. I even said I was happy to rent for the rest of my life. About a month ago, the flip was switched. I was ready!
With only a few months left of living in Hong Kong, I was grabbed by a stranger who ran past me on the sidewalk near my house. I turned and watched him run away, my feet unable to move. I screamed obscenities at him. I texted my friends. I called the police. I went to the station and told many people my story. I went to court but didn’t have to testify because the culprit pleaded guilty.
I hesitate to call it sexual assault, but he did violate me and my personal space. After the incident, I was shaken and pissed that this man had taken a piece of my dignity. I hated that he made me feel unsafe and unsure in my seemingly very safe Hong Kong bubble.
Afterwards, I was more cautious about where I went and how I got there. But in the five years since, I’m still fairly nonchalant about my safety. I’ve never once carried pepper spray, I leave my second floor windows open all the time, and I take public transportation/walk home whenever I can.
Last Saturday, my mom sent me an article about a woman who was sexually assaulted not five minutes from my house. She was the twelfth victim in a month in the neighborhood directly south of mine. That night I went on a very bad “date” where as soon as the guy sat down, he told me that he “forgot his roofies”. When I schooled him on how NOT funny rape jokes are, he asked if “it” had “ever happened to me.” I told him no. “Has it happened to someone you know?” Again, I told him no. “Then why do you care so much?”
“Excuse me, you POS, just because I have never been raped or don’t have friends that have told me if they have been raped, it doesn’t mean that I can’t have a stance on rape or on rape jokes.”
I’ve flirted with the idea of meditation for quite some time (what is meditation you ask? read here). In December 2015, I went to a yoga and meditation retreat where five minutes into every 30 minute-session my legs ached from sitting still – we did that twice a day for five days, mind you. A while back, I read an article about seven ways to happiness (see previous post) which states that you should meditate for two minutes every day. I tried that for like…2 days…then I gave up. At one point, I downloaded the Headspace app. Fell asleep every time…because I did it before bed. *insert eye roll emoji here*
I have been lucky enough to have some amazing “out of body” experiences, too (literally and figuratively). When I first started taking yoga classes in college, I’d lay in savasana (that relaxing pose at the end of every class) and could SEE MYSELF. No freakin’ joke. I’d be above myself looking AT myself. (And, no, I wasn’t dead, in purgatory, or in seven minutes in heaven.) Also, almost every time I go to my acupuncturist, I can zone out in mediation with needles stuck out of my head, hands, legs, and feet for a good 20-30 minutes.
