Kristie Was Here

Fail: The Day of Saint Valentine

2012-02-10T19:35:00.000-08:00

It's no secret that Valentine's Day has been a day of failure for me (of epic proportions).

This year I face it single while living above a greeting card shop that is well-stocked with love-ness. The universe is hilarious, no? :: sarcastic knee slap :: If I've learned anything these past few months it is to be intentional about life, Valentine's Day included. It doesn't make everything better, but it does mean the day is less likely to end in tears and a bad 90's playlist.

So, this year I'm owning V-day. I'm not going to ignore it because that would be silly (everyone knows denial only works on non-Hallmark holidays). I'm setting February 14th as a deadline and I'm writing out some legit letters to the people I love. I'm going to give.

I'm going to give words, and memories, and inked smiles.

I'm going to get these fingers dirty, scribble on some pages, lick an envelope, and snail mail my heart. I'm not going to give candy or roses or chocolates because those things are not me on February 14th. They are for the regular days--when things are on sale and my roommate needs a hug. A special day means something real, authentic, me. So, I'm writing valentines--long winded, illegible, and honest valentines. Won't you join me?

P.S. If you don't get a card it doesn't mean I don't love you.
I do have something for you, and you should enter to win it here.

Have any questions you want me to answer in my vlog?
Leave a comment here or email me at kristieprice1@gmail.com.

A Gift: One Key to My Heart

2012-02-08T04:00:00.000-08:00

I'd like to give you the Key to My Heart.

Okay, so it's not literally the key to my heart, but I still think you'll like it.

It's a beautiful necklace from Shabby Apple and it's awesome. Yup. Get excited.
It's my special Valentine's Day gift for you.

Enter Below!
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Good luck!

This giveaway is for U.S. readers only.
Image credit: Shabby Apple

Questions + Answers = Vlog

2012-02-06T04:00:00.000-08:00

Hello, My name is Kristie. Didn't you know? I'm an incredibly fascinating individual.

In second grade I decided to be a junior high English teacher. In college (senior year) I decided to keep the English part, and drop the teacher. My mom asked me what I planned to do with an English degree. I told her anything I want.

Did you know I love running but have never beaten a 9 minute mile? Maybe that means I love jogging. Either way, I ran on the varsity cross-country team in high school. It's okay to laugh.

Did you know I'm a certified healthcare practitioner? I think anatomy and physiology are awesome. I earned my massage license and actually know the real names of the muscles in your body.

See? I'm Interesting. Clearly.

Now, I'd like to open the floor for some of your burning questions. Ask me anything you want. Anything. I'm going to answer your questions in a vlog, so make 'em good, people.

Ready? Set? Go!

PS If you're not convinced I can pull off a vlog without looking ridiculous, rest assured, you're right. Did you check out that video?? Here's the link to watch it on YouTube.

target moments

2012-02-03T04:00:00.000-08:00

yesterday i wandered around target in a daze, a 27-year-old with dementia. what am i here for? where is it? what can i get that will make my best friend's apartment feel like home, my home.

then i realized that was my problem, looking for home in the middle of a linoleum aisle and red bullseyes. it just wasn't going to happen.

while i was debating between going back to the apartment or sitting on the floor of the store, i rounded the corner to find what i needed. then i got my shit together and actually finished my errand.

so there are moments. target moments. safeway moments. moments in parking lots, shopping, around people, asking for clear polyurethane satin gloss at lowe's... you get the picture. there are moments where i don't quite loose it but i don't quite have it together--where i need to take a time out, press the pause button.

they're mostly at night now, while i'm cleaning or organizing, trying to get things to just work dammit, putting together shelves or figuring out where my missing gym shorts are.

sometimes they're good but painfully sad. like when i realized i just fuckin' moved my ass 14 hours away with all my stuff, packed it, unloaded it, and survived. it's a lonely sort of accomplishment, one i want to share with him. tell him i can make it. i am making it. i'm good and whole and capable, but i can't tell him or, rather, i won't because that wouldn't be helpful and my blackberry was quite dead.

and that's one of the hardest parts about all of this...leaving someone who wasn't just my husband but my friend. so, to those of you who are emailing and calling and being there even when i don't reply. thanks. those moments are making all the other ones a bit more bearable.

the wall

2012-02-01T04:00:00.000-08:00

It's coming. The wall--it's coming. In fact, it might just be here: the stopping point after months of running around, and signing papers, and saying non-goodbyes because I don't actually know how long this move will be.

It's the first time I'm on my own in a truer sense than ever before. And some mornings come with: "Fuck my life. I'm unemployed, divorced, and have no furniture to my name." Other mornings are a celebration that I finally slept and I'm a few hours closer to normal--wherever normal is hiding these days.

You should know that I've never needed this many hugs, this many you're-going-to-be-okay pep talks, or this many pages to catch the thoughts pouring from my fingers.

So much sighing and realizing I might be safe here, okay, strong, and loved.
I don't trust it yet,
I'm hoping I will soon.

December 10, 2011

the bank

2012-01-30T04:00:00.000-08:00

It's funny to me how strangers can sometimes be the kindest people.

The lady at the bank--I forget her name--was the first person I told out loud "I'm in the middle of a divorce." It just came out. It was weird to tell the truth to someone, someone I knew for 30 seconds. But she completely understood why I wouldn't want my checking account statements being mailed to someone else's attention.

When I went in a week later she remembered me. She apologized for needing to see my ID, "I know I've already seen it, it's just our policy." It was only the second time we'd met.

There are days when these people completely make up for the assholes that work for unicef.

I remember opening up my computer and typing the words in blue from a couch in my best friend's apartment, thinking that the pain would swallow me whole; the mess of it all would consume me.
The insecurities would never end. But they are ending, leaving, dissolving. Oh, they are. Thank. God.

They're not over but they're better, which means progress; and right now I'm celebrating progress.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
November 5, 2011
It rocks you. It changes you.
It leaves you wondering if you can ever make a good decision,
if this was ever a good decision, if you really are a
fuck up or if it's just this,this mess, this one time.
It's painful. Did I mention how painful?
Did I mention how I wish it would all go away and never come back?

take a picture, live your story

2012-01-28T04:00:00.000-08:00

Today is the anniversary of my dad's death. I'm remembering the lessons and pain and the laughter that are part of me because he was here, because his life shaped mine.

I might not have picked this, all of it, if given the choice. But had I written my story before the pain, before the tears, it would have been a dull novel no one wanted to read. It is the journey, the complicated, the sorrow the pain the grief that make the joy and laughter and tenderness fall into a rhythm of beauty.

So I am living my story,
celebrating the choices,
wandering in the questions,
and giving myself some grace.

I will take a picture,
hold on to memories,
and create,
remembering that to to live,
truly live, is a privilege.

road trip

2012-01-27T04:00:00.000-08:00

December 6, 2011

i skipped town today. it was earlier than planned, but it was time.
there was no point staring at a packed car and empty condo.

we said goodbye, like we've been saying--living--all week
or all month, really.

and the new is starting,
a painful beginning,
but a beginning nonetheless.

i'm in a stylish super 8 motel in random tiny town, oregon.
it has free shampoo and wi-fi.
basically, heaven.

and it's 9pm so i'm going to bed--
signing papers, stuffing a car
and trying to pump your own gas in oregon
can be exhausting.

the department of licensing

2012-01-25T04:00:00.000-08:00

I was at the Department of Licensing today, transferring the title of my car to me. It's always been my car but it was under Dan's name. Mine, but his on paper. He had to give it to me, sign it over, in those documents with margins.

Debbie helped me today. Debbie at the Department of Licensing. It made me feel a bit better that she had the same name as my mom. A strong name. She was kind and helpful, and it was all quite surprising under the florescent lights and 1970's decor. She knew about the divorce. It came up, so I told her. She told me she had been there, done that. She knew. It's comforting to have people who know. Really know. Because they know you didn't choose the easy way out. How could this be easy? They know you're trying. They know it's hard, and complicated, and even if it's best it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. They know that just because you were able to shower and smile today doesn't mean you won't fall apart in the parking lot. It's nice to have people that know because they are kind enough to know without judging.

"Sometimes I think that divorced people might actually make the best Christians," she thought to herself...

this is my life right now

2012-01-23T04:00:00.000-08:00

November 30, 2011

music
books
a few smiles
tears
and airports

my answer to the question
"how are you doing"
is officially
"i'm doing pretty well, all things considered."

my answer to
"are you staying in seattle"
is "not right now. i'm taking a life sabbatical.
i'll be in san jose if you need me."

and flying into seattle last night
i told myself that it was okay to not
have a home for awhile. it really was.
and she agreed.

Saturday Link Love

2012-01-21T10:55:00.000-08:00

Sometimes the weekends are well spent traveling about with friends. Therefore, a drive to Tahoe has ensued. But if your weekend is spent indoors all cozy with a computer, then take a look at what I discovered...

+ Nothing beats an awesome conversation with Katy Perry.
Some days you just feel like a plastic bag, ya know?

+ Hiking and fashion go together. For real. Don't fight it.

+ Sometimes we could all use a letter from our
older selves telling us that, "The useless days will add up to something...
The hours reading poetry and story collections and novels and
dead people’s diaries and wondering about sex and God and
whether you should shave under your arms or not.
These things are your becoming."

+ A blog about a church plant? Virginia to Vegas by way of Idaho?
Yes. Yes, please. Say hello to my lil' sis.

unicef doesn't care either

2012-01-20T04:00:00.000-08:00

The day began at 6am, a long journey of trying to get home to a condo that was locked and cold. It was two planes and a Starbucks stop, then the light rail, and a walk to a bus route.

Jared or Jason or someone who on any other day would have probably made a wonderful friend interrupted my walk to the bus and I wanted to punch Jay-Jared in his energetic face.

He worked for unicef and asked me what I was doing. “Uh, trying to catch a bus.” Then he introduced himself. I offered up my name while internally replaying words that have been said to me on more than one occasion: Kristie, you’re too nice. I stood in 40 degree weather with a bulging carryon, laptop, and not enough sleep, while J-something went on about unicef and how if we want to change the conditions in developing countries then we needed to start with the children. “Or women” I interjected. “Or women,” he agreed, asking if I had read some book, presumably about empowering women in impoverished countries. “No.” I was really thinking “No dumb-ass, isn’t that just common knowledge? Remember that dude who won the nobel peace prize in '06? He knew that.”

J-fuck then realized he was off track and veering from the script and went back to unicef and children and statistics and sad news about the fate of children-kind everywhere except the US. And I stood patiently because it was all I could do to keep from physically assaulting him or bursting into tears. Since each hand held a bag, tears were going to be the faster option.

“How old are you?"
“27.”
“27?!”
Really, does every one of your sentences need to end with an exclamation point?
“Yes, 27.”
“Great! Well then you can donate anywhere from $15-$60 a month!”
“Oh, really?” Thanks for the artificial options.
He asked me to donate.
“I’m not going to.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m in the middle of a divorce and trying to figure out my finances. Because I would rather volunteer my time than money.”
“Really? So do you have time to take off a year and go to the horn of Africa?”
“I know you might not hear this often, but nothing is off the table for me right now; I just might.”
“You know, I hear that people would rather give their time than money a lot.”
“Well, I actually do. I volunteer at the Phinney Ridge food bank, okay?”
“Yea, I’m just saying that a lot of the stuff unicef does isn’t actually possible without money.”
“Look. I’m on the verge of tears and I need to catch a bus.”
“Ok. You don’t have to stand in front of me while I’m talking.”
So I didn’t.
I left.
And I called my best friend to ask her what the fuck one would expect me to do while carrying on a conversation.

I walked away toward a bus station with my eyes stinging, willing the tears to stay in only to realize the routes to my condo had been changed since I was last on 1st Avenue and Pike Street. Fuck.

So I stood at the bus stop staring down the street wanting to sit on my bag and cry in the middle of the city that was once the place I could go to escape everything. I hailed a cab, hoped in and when the cabby asked how I was doing I mustered everything within my being and lied through my teeth: “I’m good. You?”

limbo

2012-01-18T04:00:00.000-08:00

There are some days that start and I only look forward to their the end. Those are the days filled with uncertainty, pain, and divorce. It's exhausting being sure and holding steady and fighting for the end when it feels so far away. Some days it's surreal and mind-numbing--like limbo is all there is. And it's on those days I want to give up--just so I am grounded, so some place feels like home again, so I quit waking up staring at different walls wondering where the hell I am.

That's the thing about un-marriage, the un-engagement, the waiting before the finale. It's all this or that and not now but later and it can send a person into a lonely maddens fighting for a home address and a welcome mat. It's funny how creating something new can be one of the most exhausting things in the world.

It's the people, not the place, and all my people are waiting with me, holding hands, offering up love and silence and laughter to make it all a bit more bearable. Because it's a waiting game for them too. Who will they be left with as a friend when I make it to the other side? Will she be able to laugh again? Will the joy be able to sink deep enough to mix with the pain and make it all beautiful again?

When? How? So many questions during the in-between. And so many emails and appointments and deciding for a future self what might make sense once day on the other side.

feelings

2012-01-16T04:00:00.001-08:00

November 8, 2011

i'm sad

and scared of being lonely

of feeling loneliness so intensely and deeply

that it won't ever leave

When I land on my feet...

2012-01-13T04:00:00.000-08:00

They keep saying it to me: "When you land on your feet..."

My feet were planted firmly when I said, "I love you, but no."
I stood on my own to two feet, weighted, heavy: "This won't work for me; it needs to end."

If anything, the future of "landing on my feet" is actually a place to rest.
I've landed on my feet, and one day there will be a place for me to sit.
Because standing, landing, every single day, that is exhausting.

commercial break: hold the depression

2012-01-12T17:39:00.000-08:00

it has come to my attention that my blog has become somewhat depressing.

say whaaaaaa?!

oh, life. you can get that way sometimes.

since this is an honest space, a lot of life (my life) is making an appearance. however, you should know that what i'm writing about happened a few months back and i'm only now sharing it. so, to those lovely people who are worried that i'm feeling like shit and hating my new home in san jose, here's an honest and current update.

to date, the good days are outnumbering the bad.
word to your mother, that is something to celebrate.

*i threw a three kings day party last week.
it was epic. and by epic, i mean the food
i made was delicious and i'm having leftovers
the entire week.

*i'm applying for jobs and, oh my gosh,
i love california. it is january and it was
67 degrees on sunday. i felt the sunshine.
i told someone seattle's weather
was horrible. because i'm realizing it was, at
least for me, i just didn't know it while i was there.

*i sincerely miss my dog. im sure he's fine, but
i miss him nonetheless. he'd probably melt here.
but he'd still be happy. he always is.
a sister crafted a plan to get him to cali but
i told her it needed to include an apartment that
allows pets. she's getting back to me on that one.

*i miss my sisters. they are more awesome
than i remember. they still live too far away. we're
trying to fix that. too bad we're all great at
procrastinating. they promised to visit, and they're
good at keeping promises.

*i found IKEA and bought a mirror and a lamp.
this was no small feat because it was IKEA and
i was by myself, and things are much heavier than
they look. but i'm celebrating my purchase
and ability to lift more than 50lbs because
i can now see late at night by simply flipping a switch.
electricity is such a grand thing.

*i found a picture of me on the eve of the new year.
i think i look okay. better. less sad, more happy.
maybe a tad tired, but that's simply because
sleep is not a priority on the last night of hard year.
at least it wasn't for me.

like i said, good days are winning right now.
and i'm writing this just in case that changes sometime soon.
just to be safe.

i wrote it down for you, self

2012-01-11T04:00:00.000-08:00

There is nothing to writing.

All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein.
{Red Smith}

I know this is painful. I know your heart is aching, your eyes are swollen and your chest feels like it might crack open. I know. I also know that you will survive. You will get up each morning, you will get dressed, and you will go on, moving, talking and living.

There will be days you can barely breathe and other days when you will sigh with relief. You are not perfect. You made mistakes. You hurt him and he hurt you. And it was never right; it was never fair. But you are strong and have the power to choose. Use it. Use your words. Use your voice--look for it, find it, and don't ever let it go.

You are worthy. Even in all your imperfection, you are worthy of love and respect. Find your voice and don't ever let anyone take it from you.

Remember, you are loved.

sitting in the ashes

2012-01-09T04:00:00.000-08:00

loneliness abounds in the dust of what
once claimed to be marriage.

i feel broken and ugly and insecure inside--
a failure for letting this all happen, for giving up control,
for not knowing how marriage--how us--could get so tangled-broken.

a note to the blogoshphere

2012-01-07T04:00:00.000-08:00

via

i am overwhelmed by the goodness in people, in you, in strangers.

i am touched by your kindness, your love, your letters and emails and compassion. i am overwhelmed by your kind presence in the life of someone you know only through a url and a picture, a keyboard and an inbox.

it doesn't matter if we've never met face-to-face because we have met here, at this address, and it has worked for us. we've planned movie nights, and dance parties, and beautiful hikes and mini breakdowns. we laugh at the same jokes and struggle in the same world. we know each other better because we've figured out how to use language and photos and, if we're lucky, google reader and instagram.

it's a weird place, this online one. it takes effort and time and patience. it can strip us bare, make us whole, create community. it can inspire and empower.

i find myself referencing more friends whose lives i'm a part of because we have email and twitter and an authentic voice that crosses timezones. and there are so many of you holding space, sending love, whispering prayers for someone, me, a person you have never met--at least not in the conventional sense.

so, thank you.

thank you for caring, for being kind, for not intruding or judging or minimizing. thank you for understanding the area between black and white. thank you for being you and thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for letting me be me.

-k

Because There Was Also Good

2012-01-06T04:00:00.000-08:00

I wanted to marry you, not just anybody, but you, sir. You were the guy I fell in love with in high school who made me laugh and made me question things, who helped me have adventures and take risks. Thank you for that. Thank you for making my world bigger and for letting me see a part of the world I have never seen before. Thank you for helping me rediscover my love for new places and good food and for sharing your passions with me. We are both different people for knowing each other and we will forever be changed.

Closed Wide Shut

2012-01-04T04:00:00.000-08:00

i don't walk to talk.
i want to be alone behind the door that i keep
pushing, shoving, gradually moving.

i need it closed--shut.
wide shut.

the expression is "wide open." i know.
i need the opposite--the opposite of now.

let me be,
overcoming the first draft i created,
we created
redoing.

A Letter to End a Marriage

2012-01-02T04:00:00.000-08:00

October 23, 2011

I am broken. It feels like I might split in two. But I haven't. I don't think I will. It is all crumbling, and falling, and changing. I know this because I am the one holding the sledge hammer.

After 11 years together, Dan and I are separating. We are signing documents, filing paperwork, and getting divorced.

I take a breath and knock over another wall.

I love him and he loves me and our marriage has changed us both. Knowing each other on this journey has been a privilege. I am stronger. I know my voice. I've tried new things and struggled so very hard to find myself. And I am finding her, and loving her, and I know he loves her and who I am becoming.

I cry and inhale, not wanting this change but longing for it. I contradict myself. More bricks fall.

I'm proud of you, Dan. I'm proud of all you accomplished. I'm proud of your ability to be creative and find new solutions, of your desire to think and know and discover. You are a gift to this world. Please don't forget that. You have been a gift to me.

Tears fall. He offers his hand and we watch another wall, another door, another window shatter.

We have been together for so very long and it's hard to imagine anything different. But I think different can be good and change can be needed--you helped me discover that. I know we vowed "Till death do us part," and I think that will always be true. You will be here woven into my life in the small corners of memories of laughter and tears.

We are human, we make mistakes and sometimes the decision to rewrite the ending is a gift on this journey, not a mark of failure. So, I need to say goodbye, at least for now, because finding my voice, my truth, my happiness has suddenly become real to me.

I wipe away more tears and strike again, the weight of it all in my firm hands.

There was a time when I would have grabbed onto anything, anything even if it hurt me. But I'm not doing that anymore. I won't. Not because I don't love you but because I love me and sometimes you and me are not good or great or healthy.

You have been patient with me when I least deserved it. We have been there for each other through death and life, sorrow and pain, in sickness and in health. We are strong sturdy beings who have much life left--at least I hope we do. But if we don't, if we only have a few days or hours left, that will be okay too because this was worth it.

The pain and growth and love and tears...It was worth becoming who I am so I could choose joy, so I could choose love, and so that I could tell you that I will always love you and I need to let this relationship go.

We drop our hands and turn toward the water, letting time bury the beautiful mess we have created. This has been the reality of our lives, slowly, gradually, and then all of a sudden.

We are two friends, forever changed, no longer husband and wife.

writing truth, writing stories

2011-12-30T04:00:00.002-08:00

"People have often told me I said the things they are thinking themselves. I probably haven't said anything here that you didn't already know or have already thought. That's what a writer does. There aren't too many original thoughts in the world."

I have written and scribbled and typed in private, waiting for words to work themselves out into something ready for here, something ready for me, something ready. And it's almost done, or as ready as it will be.

January will be a month of raw honesty because sometimes sharing my story is the only thing I have left to offer. Being open, transparent, and vulnerable is something I want to take with me into the new year, into 2012. It's a different sort of resolution, and it's one I want to hold on to, with both hands, tightly.

"A writer's job is tell the truth. I believe that if all the truth were known about everything in the world it would be a better place to live."

That is why I want this space to be honest--or as honest as it can be. So, come January I'm opening up a bit more and creating some more space for the realities of life. You might not like it. You might judge me. You might not agree, or you might realize that if all the truth were known about everything in the world it would be a better place to live.

So, get ready.
2012 is going to bring it...

Quotes by Andy Rooney.
Please note that any comments left in January will be moderated by my sister Kelsey.
She'll be privy to what you post and will be helping me with replies.

An Open Letter to 2012

2011-12-29T04:00:00.000-08:00

Let me say hello and let you know I'm ready, ready to meet you, with arms wide open. 2011 is taken care of, treasured, valued, and lived. It was full of love, and lessons, and deeper truths that had been hiding in years past. 2011 delivered in ways that cannot quite be explained. I found more of myself through writing and shared more of myself with strangers. 2011 was the beginning of a new story. It was a good year, a hard year, and it is over. Finally.

2012, I'm hoping you'll be met with a smile and a rhythm, a hug and laughter. But if tears find their way into the night you arrive, that's okay too. Tears are a sign of being present, of living in the now, and I want to do more of that, be more of that this time around. I want to be present in the stories people are living. But please know I don't wear waterproof mascara. So, let's take it easy on the 1st, okay?

This year I want to be honest, lovingly honest. I want to be myself so deeply that to meet me is to know me, and to read my words is see a bit of my soul. I want to be careful when I need to be, I want to love and protect the person inside while letting her be free; I want her to live life with reckless abandon. I want to stare at all this fear and know I can move forward anyway. I want to be a better friend, remember birthdays, share laughter, discover my voice. I want to enjoy fresh flowers and go on long walks. I want to loose track of time, take pictures, and write it down.

I want to dance, but you already knew that. I want to hear the music and feel the melodies in words, in books, in people, in myself. There must be movement, 2012. I need it. But I also need those sacred weekends for watching too many movies and leaving the bed unmade. I want one long lazy Saturday, nestled between the sheets, enjoying the stillness and knowing I can be completely myself and that is 100% okay. Now that I think about it, I'll take a few of those Saturdays...

I want to give. I want to share with others the joy I have found in loving, in living, in knowing there is something greater, something beyond me that has given me the strength to survive. I want my story to be bigger than just me. I don't know how, but I know there's a way and we can figure it out together. I want to offer hope, and truth, and joy, and give back the blessings I know this year will bring. I know goodness will come, 2012. It's no secret. It's in the cool mornings with warm sunbeams and hot tea, the changing leaves, and simple smiles. It is everywhere, falling into our lives and making the dreary days seem a bit more bearable.

I want to learn, and travel, and discover. I want to work and preferably make money; and if we could find someway to include writing and photography and Europe into that equation you'd be doing me a solid. I promise to work hard and I trust you'll do the same. We've got 12 months to make this all happen. And we'll do it one day at a time.

So cheers to you, 2012!

Let's dance,
Kristie

2 Reasons Everybody Loves Me

2011-12-28T00:00:00.000-08:00

Reason Number One:

Click here to view this video on YouTube

Reason Number Two:

Click here to view this video on YouTube