Where My Golden Girls At?

Thank you for being a friend. If you haven’t watched the Golden Girls, you’re not living life to its fullest potential. If your dream isn’t to live with your best girlfriends (I would be Dorothy) on the beach when you’re old and your husbands have long since pissed you off, I ain’t here for you, honey britches.

Let’s talk about friendship. High School. Let’s start there. Do you remember being terrified of not being cool? Do these Abercrombie jeans make me look like I’m 18? Have you seen my Doc Martens anywhere? When all you thought about was what you and your friends were going to do next and how you were going to convince your parents that Emily’s parents were totally going to be there on Saturday night. You had a clique and as long as you had them with you, you were in the safe zone. But OMG when you were a one man show, lord help your little lost lamb. It doesn’t matter if you were that stuck up cheerleader or obnoxious know it all who rolled their eyes at anything fun. Your social status has no playground here, you’re an adult now and nobody cares that you had the hottest boyfriend who is now, after all these years FINALLY the manager of the grocery store. Swoon.

College. Where friendship could be bought in many ways and you could easily meet your new BFF in any bar bathroom when you held her phone while she peed or took selfies with her because bathroom selfies were all the rage. You didn’t really care if you were cool, you had your own place, well you weren’t living at home anyway, and you could eat and drink whatever you wanted and not do laundry for a month all while smoking cigs. Bliss.

On to Adulthood. Here’s where it gets rough. You’re out of college and your “bitches” have either grown with you and got big kid jobs or have remained a permanent fixture on the bar scene. You start to figure out that you can’t go out every night because you have to be at work in the morning and why does my head hurt so bad? The friends who don’t have jobs get annoyed and they invite you out less and less, you get it. So then you have your work friends. Some of those are legit and others it’s like a second and third job to be nice and politely come up with yet another excuse why you simply can’t go to their bbq this weekend but if you didn’t have them as work buddies, you’d be bored all day so sometimes you have to go to keep the peace.

So you get the timeline and how each phase of your life comes with a new set of people. You will have your few friends that you’ve had since childhood that you keep up with on social media, through your Mother or at Wal-Mart when you’re home for the holidays, if you’re lucky. What kind of friends do you want or need in your life right now? Do you need someone who’s motivating in nature and can help you get off your money maker and have fun or improve your self? Do you need someone who is like you or the complete opposite? Need another Mama to cuddle up to on those impossible days? Everyone needs something different. Or maybe you’re in that phase where you don’t have time for friends because you’re really focused on your career or your new man friend.

It’s hard to make friends. I need ladies who are real and want to enjoy life. If you are a crazy organized woman who carries a sack of supplements with you and does CrossFit for fun, I love it. If you are so obsessed with your animals that they have their own closet full of clothes, I love that too. As long as you’re doing what makes you happy and don’t sugar coat the “crazy”, I want to know you. These days there are a lot of women who have two sides. One for social media and one at home in their old skanky cheer shorts and dirty feet. Listen, if you don’t have the boobs to be you in front of the internet, I would hate to hear your thoughts when you lay down at night. There’s a reason you don’t feel like you can be you and I hate that for you. Now I get it. I get why women feel the need to look their best and show their best life for all to see. Judgement is hard. Feeling less than is hard. Maybe if I show this picture of me all dressed up for a fun night on the town other girls will see it, like it and want to be my friend! Y’all, we’re all still little girls inside who want friends and ponies. Many things set women apart. Money, children, religion, jealousy, six pack abs, careers, eyelashes for example. If we all looked the same, we’d all be friends.

I said all of that to say this…let’s be friends! I want to grow, learn and experience all that you have to offer. Looking at myself and analyzing how I’ve been so unapproachable in many settings. Why was I like that? Probably because I was scared of being judged or maybe I was people watching and my RBF was on display in full force. Either way, I don’t want someone to look at me and think they can’t come chat. I want my daughter to know how precious friendships are to your soul. I want her to be able to walk up to anyone, introduce herself and have an experience. I don’t need the fake you. You don’t have to keep her around anymore, the real you is where it’s at. You’re doing great!

Cheers, Lana.

Anxiety Hell

Fun title, eh? I am made up of half anxiety, half normal person (that may be stretching it). I have anxiety about everything and I mean, everything. It’s exhausting and irrational and I’m always fine once I get passed the thing that worries me but lord does it take it out of me. Do you have anxiety? I feel like everyone does to some extent but maybe I just tell myself that so I don’t feel alone. Well, if you do, do you ever feel like you can talk about it or do you just angrily throw the wet clothes in the dryer with your bitten off nails and huffy breathing? Here’s my reality. Wont you join me in this black hole?

Over the years, I have taught myself to deal with anxiety by having order. Order in my home, in my job, in my relationships, etc. I live for a routine and lists. When I can’t clean or create/find order, I panic and turn on the people who love me. I plan everything. I anticipate every outcome so I can be prepared. Fight or flight baby.

Here are some fun examples of my crazy, I’m going to imagine you nodding your head while reading these so I can exhale.

If you’ve ever made plans to go to the movies with me, you know that I CANNOT be late. I will be on the edge of my seat with worry that I’m going to miss something or not get a good seat, not have time to get my icee or the movie being sold out. The ride to the movies when we’re “Lana late” is SUPER fun. For the record, I’ve never missed any part of a movie, but I sure have worried myself into a tizzy about it. Thank you friends and family for still inviting my fun and calming self to go out in public.

Secondly, I have to be on top of everything all of the time. My house has to be clean and organized. If my house is a mess I can’t function out in the world. My “base” has to be good to go before I can enjoy anything else. You know, in case the Board of Housewives drops by for judgement. I want to tell you not to care about what other people think but Jesus knows when I’m lying. Carrying on…everything has its place. Having a baby has REALLY tested that part of my anxiety. Penelope has so much stuff and I’ve had to find homes for everything so I can get over myself and live life (she’s worth every second of it). I frequently clean out cabinets, drawers etc. My husband hates this because he thinks I’m just making room to go buy more stuff to fill it right back up. Sometimes he’s right but please don’t tell him, I can’t with him and his not being like me ways.

Then there’s my physical self. Ughhh, it’s never ending. Am I doing everything I can to be the healthiest? Should I fake tan myself this week? Nails or no nails? Should I put a mask on my hair? Are my teeth white enough? I wonder if that spot on my leg is cancer? I’m exhausted just writing this, if you’re still reading along, bless you. I worry about every little twinge. Google is not my friend. I lay in bed at night thinking it’s just a matter of time until they find some tumor or something cancerous. I can hear my Mother saying “Why do you do that to yourself” as I type this. I know I’m my worst enemy. Therapy has helped me so much in this part of my life. Yes, I was worse. I’m learning to prioritize my crazy and talk to my inner child and calm her ass down. Remembering that I have to take care of myself too and not just allow myself to stay in the same t-shirt and shorts for two days that are covered in spit-up while throwing myself a pity party. All those questions at the beginning of this paragraph? Yeah, I just worry about those things, I don’t always do any of them to help myself… I just sit and stress about needing to do them.

I hope this post makes you feel better if you, like myself, think you’re crazy. Let’s be friends and stress together.

After saying all of that, I do put A LOT of work into being me and always growing and becoming a better version of myself. I’m doing the best I can with who I am right now. Maybe I’ll always stress. I stress when I’m laying on the beach…vacay anyone!? Or maybe as I age, I will learn to stress less and get over myself. Who knows. But you? Sugar bear, you’re doing great too. You’re not the only crazy one. Is there a club?

Cheers to you.