Happy New Year

“Tomorrow is the first blank page of a 365 page book. Write a good one,” 2014 (Anonymous).

It’s New Years Eve and just like last year, I am spending it alone at home. I am cooking myself a nice meal, indulging in a few beers and reflecting on the past year. I saw the quote above on Facebook a few times today and it really spoke to me. While most people are partying it up, I decided to stay home and start literally writing the book of 2014. I have wanted to write my whole life, yet my own demons and other people (assholes mainly), have gotten in the way of that the past 30 years (that’s right the new year also equals me entering my 30’s…holy fucking shit!!!).

I attempted to start writing regularly in 2012 and failed, because I had a lot of personal things I needed to accomplish. Although my struggle to pursue writing has haunted me throughout 2013, I realized that I needed 2013 to grow personally. On January 18, 2013, I decided to leave my hometown of Orange County, CA and move to the desert of Arizona all by myself. I knew some family and one friend (my bestie since the age of three, but I moved somewhere in this scorpion filled land all alone).

I learned quickly that one job wasn’t going to hack it in the bill area, even in a cheaper area of living. So for months I worked crazy hours at two jobs, but I wouldn’t change that experience for anything. I am pretty resilient and although lack of sleep affected my mood at times, I proved to myself that despite moments of insanity, I could do whatever it takes to survive financially on my own (the main goal of moving to Arizona was to finally gain independence and to help relieve my parents of the burden of helping me). The next year I plan to blog daily and share what I learned in 2013 with the world. I also plan to start writing the book that has been bubbling inside my head for years. I don’t want to waste another minute of my life wishing I was pursuing my dreams (that’s what my 30^th birthday made me realize…. holy shit I’m 30! My dreams need to start now before I am another minute older…just sayin’).

 I spent the holidays with my parents who have loved and supported me no matter what. My dad’s gift to me was a lot of writing support, my friends in Arizona gave me writing journals for my birthday and my mom is just amazing always. My friends back home believe in me and support me as well. 2014 is literally about me writing my book. I am committing this year to pursuing my dreams that so many people support (I even returned to work after 5 days off to a post-it from a customer about a writing website…love-it from a post-it).

All in all…. I am 30, single (ugh! Another battle you will experience, because everyone on Facebook is married with kids!) and pursuing my dreams. I am planning to write a book and literally write continuously for the next 365 days of 2014! I hope you follow my pursuit of my dreams, learn from my experiences and through my journey start to follow your own dreams…whatever that may be to you. 

S@#$ Happens...But Seriously?

The other day on Instagram, a person who shall remain nameless, posted a picture of their child’s poop all over her clothes. Really? Does this seem to be something that anyone needs to witness?

As a single lady who still remains undecided about the need to fill her own life with a child or two, I find certain things about your child should remain on a-need-to-know-basis or maybe even be placed in the “what-you-do-in-your-private-time-is-really-known-of-my-business” category.

At my age I find myself inundated with pictures of my former high school classmates holding count downs until baby three comes on Facebook, pictures of baby bumps, pictures of newborns, and holiday cards of families. I enjoy witnessing my friend’s son pitch his first baseball game on Facebook, because my busy life does not allow me to attend these moments all the time. I truly remain happy that people from my past found love and joy in building a family life. I myself remain a kid at heart.

Certain pictures of a child and what they do should remain off the Internet, because as much as we love our friends child and his or her pictures, we do not need to know every time they use the restroom or view pictures of explosive diarrhea on Instagram…seriously?

Maybe taking sort of a “What would Jesus do?” outlook of the situation, but for parents “What would my friends do if they saw this?” or remember this blog post, and ask yourself, “What would Styna do?” If I do ever decide to bare a child in this lifetime, Styna would not share puke, poop, broken bones from hockey matches, or any other thing that might make all my followers on Instagram throw up in their mouth…just sayin’.

I want to know when my friends kid wins an award, scores a soccer goal, and what they wear for Halloween, the cute things. The exciting moments Facebook allows people to share with family and friends, so even during the hustle and bustle we still feel present in our friend’s kid’s lives. But certain things I would rather pretend did not happen, because as a single childless lady I often disregard that gross things happen when a child enters the world.

I know an Emoji exists where a pile of poop displays a smiley face (this makes people laugh), but images of a baby’s poop on Instagram will not receive a smiley face response from all your followers.

Lonely Inspiration

I spent the past few weeks on my new adventure to Scorpionville, adjusting to the idea of being alone. The opportunity to shoot one of my besties a text asking to grab a quick bite after work no longer appears to be an option. Unfortunately friends do not appear at the front door over night with wine in one hand and “The Notebook” in the other, ready to indulge in girls night (neither do hot cowboys with roses in hand asking to spend the night line dancing…a lady’s entitled to a good daydream).

I literally reverted to my 12-year-old self and found myself crying rivers of poor-me-I’m-friendless-in-the-desert (along with sexless in the desert). I went from a small private elementary school to a giant public Jr. High back in the day, I literally knew no one the first day of school. I ate lunch alone and cried to my mom every night. I swore I would never make friends and my life clearly was two lonely lunches away from ending. Eventually, I made friends (some of which I still talk to regularly) and from ages 12-29 I actually made 100’s of friends. The past three weeks I felt disheartened again that no one would ever want to eat lunch with me (I flashed back to me wearing a pair of jeans and a Roxy shirt in a corner alone eating a PB&J sandwich with the crust cut off). I even started to wonder if I made the wrong decision moving away from everyone I knew and loved for the past 29 years.

A conversation with a coworker though lifted my spirits, as I pouted like a 12-year-old about my loneliness and my desire to appear in social settings once again. He reminded me that three weeks did not allow enough time to make life long friends and not to worry. Him and another coworker expressed that my move alone to the unknown is not something most people seem capable of experiencing and my ability to do so showed strength.

After that conversation I now realize, like my 12-year-old self, I would eventually be ok and make new friends (I always do…people enjoy my company…just sayin’). Along with multiple pep talks from people back home, I noticed my actions began helping my ability to achieve one of my goals… to inspire people.

Inspiring people to step outside their comfort zone and pursue dreams along the way makes the 12-year-old inside of me resilient and helps me realize my dream to achieve my bigger goal of writing remains my number one purpose of traveling to the land of the cacti. The concept of inspiring people through my own life experiences could only be described as awesome and of coarse I began to make friends just like I did seventeen years ago.

A Life Without Target = Sadface

The biggest adjustment to my move to cacti country would be the absence of a Target conveniently located down the street. In order for me to enjoy a stroll through Target I must take a journey, which involves driving on a freeway, exiting about 8.53 miles away from my house, and the kicker, the Target does not even hold a Starbucks inside. I might as well drive a few more miles south to the Super Target where all my needs are fulfilled.

About one mile north and south of me, Wal-Mart appears and unfortunately my favorite store lost my sales to one of my least favorite stores due to convenience and of coarse gas mileage (with gas prices these days I need to conserve as much as possible).

My heart remains broken by the lack of Target in my life. The clothes that appear organized on hangers that I love so much disappeared. The book, music and movie sections no longer help me relieve stress from a bad day at work. The home décor section I roam the aisles of, while creating a wish list in my mind for my apartment is now a distance memory from my past.

Now I must force myself to experience the organized chaos that calls itself Wal-Mart. The sale DVDS appear in giant bins in the middle of the aisles, where I find myself digging through a germ pool in order to see if one of my favorite romantic comedies finally went below $19.99 plus tax. I do not even enter the jungle they refer to as the “clothing” section, because I find it impossible to maneuver my cart through a maze of clothes. And every time I step into a Wal-Mart, children scream bloody murder and I almost lose a toe as crazy moms sprint through Wal-Mart aisles as if her shopping cart turned into a racecar in the Indy500.

A void in my soul appeared about two months ago when I discovered my favorite store no longer could be apart of my weekly list of activities. Back in the day when Target existed within walking distance of my house, I would often just enjoy browsing in an effort to lift my spirits. Wal-Mart back in the day became a place that I would run in and out of for one item, while achieving an anxiety attack or two in the process.

Although Wal-Mart does carry Cadbury Mini Eggs in bulk for $5.99, I truthfully dream that the town I live in sees the need for a Target soon. I would rather buy my favorite Easter candy for two dollars more, then endure multiple anxiety attacks trying to purchase toilet paper on sale at Stress-R-Us (aka Wal-Mart)…just sayin’.

Sexless in the Desert...OkCupid in Scorpionville

The desire to fulfill my need for companionship found me once again scrolling through my Inbox on OKCupid, but this time desert style. The messages exceed the comedic level of those received in my home state of California. Seriously though, with my experience with men…the messages do not surprise me.

“Very sexy. We should do it (insert bad form of phrase) sometime!”…Thanks? I could not respond to this message. I felt suddenly that I died and found myself reincarnated as a prostitute on Harbor Blvd. The young male that wrote these words to me does deserve a high five for brutal honesty on the other hand.

A 19-year-old male said, “Do you have any interest in “hooking up” with a younger guy?” I did not sign up to loseyourvirginitymingle.com. Nowhere in my profile do I report that I am “DTF” jersey shore style…just sayin’.

“I am a professional poker player and I live with my parents.” No honey, I saw a red flag in this message and it screams my parents support my gambling problem.

I went on date with a respectable, nice man, with a job and enjoyed his company in the friend zone, but once again felt my inner fate seeker whisper to me that online dating feels forced. Interview questions for an hour and half (towards the middle of these dates I always wished I stayed at home and read a book). The decent men on OKCupid remind me of little girls dreaming of white picket fences and mini vans (my dreams of the near future involve traveling and a career change…and I would never drive a mini van).

I found a quote today in my pocket book, “Live Love Laugh”, which I felt applied to my dating traumas. “It is only possible to live happily ever after on a day to day basis.”-Margaret Bonnano.

I decided today to stop the search for companionship. My whole life I bought into the “they lived happily ever after” fantasies, I know my best friend for life will not show up on a white horse, but truthfully I finally realized he would not appear via OkCupid message either. I deleted my app and I’m signing offline, for good.

I believe in fate and love, the old fashioned way. When you catch eyes with someone from across the room and feel compelled to be in their presence whatever the cost. Best friends attempting to live life happily together one day at a time. I know the fairy tale life does not exist, but I do feel if I wait and stop searching, Mr. Right will be worth the wait and together we will attempt to live happily one day at a time.

 Until the day my match-up with fate arrives, I remain sexless in the desert and my online dating life must come to an end (the troubles of single life will still continue via sexless in the desert).