I see it in their face when I tell them. They cannot comprehend why there are tears in my eyes.

A different person, a different year, a different life . . . I would feel the same as them. I would have the same confusion as they do. It shouldn’t be that big a deal. But for me, it is. It’s soul crushing.

I was told this week that our lease would not be renewed. Nothing against us, mother-in-law, blah blah blah. The reason why doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I have to move.

I have to really move. I have to leave the little community I’ve called home for 7 years. I have to give up walking to work. No more big freezer (the 24 hour grocery store 50 feet from my door).

When Michael and I broke up, I got “custody” of our community. I left our condo, but I refused to leave the location. When I first moved in, it felt like destiny. I found this place. It was mine. Moving out of our condo was made so much easier because I didn’t have to leave the community. It was infinitely easier on my heart.

It’s too much. The last 9 months are too much. Too much loss. Too much change. Too much pain.

I just want to stand still for a minute.

I want to feel a moment of comfort or safety or security.

I am exhausted. Bone weary. Every time I start to feel OK, something else changes, someone else leaves, everything breaks.

I miss the days when I could say to people “Nothing new. I’m boring. Same ole, same ole”

Every year I think “Finally. Finally there will be a year of calm, a year of happy” and every year (for YEARS now) I’m wrong.

I’m wrong.

I’m tired.

I’m homeless.

I’m back at the beginning. Again.

To be completely honest, though, I feel no trepidation about this. Also, to be completely honest, I feel a little robbed by that.

I think it would feel pretty “normal” if I was freaking out over turning 30. I know that normal is one of the most ridiculous words, yet, so many of us have the same idea of what normal means (but I kind of love that no one I know fits into that). I guess maybe if I were scared of turning 30 it would mean I wouldn’t be feeling all the other things I am feeling.

It’s no secret that I am not a fan of birthdays. Never have been. I am uncomfortable with any sort of “celebration” of me. Every once in a blue moon, I feel the need to celebrate and that’s always fun, but generally, I would prefer it to be a day like any other. That’s why, this year, I am grateful that I will be at home alone and then, traveling most of the day.

I am glad to be going home. Not excited, not reluctant, but just glad. I’m glad I won’t be here.

The thing is . . . the things is, that no matter how I celebrated my birthday with other people, the way I celebrated my birthday with Michael was very special. And then, the way I celebrated my birthday with Heidi was special. It’s a hard pill to swallow that I will not see either of them tomorrow. To be perfectly honest, they are the only 2 people I would give anything to see tomorrow. Since that is something I can’t have, being alone will be best for me.

I will have a nice time in New Mexico, though. On Friday, I will meet up with my friend Cara (we’ve been friends for 15 years!) and a few other people I haven’t seen since high school. Saturday is a double whammy of Grandpa breakfast and a good ole’ fashioned Gonzales Family throwdown. Sunday will just be a day to relax with my sister and nephews. Monday I will spend some of the day with my sister in Santa Fe and some of it heading back to Albuquerque, maybe meeting up with another old friend. And that’s it. It’s home again on Tuesday.

Today is the last day of my 20′s. I don’t know how other people celebrate the last day of their 20′s. I imagine they do something much cooler than going to work, packing, then going to bed early. That works for me, though.

That’s all that matters.

Today, we are moving in together. Life’s funny like that.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. (That’s a fake laugh)

Not that I’m not happy he’s here. Jeeze. Thank Gay Baby! I don’t think I would have been able to keep it together as well as I have (which is to say, not at all) if it weren’t for him. He makes me feel strong and capable. I honestly think that if he weren’t here, I would have gone home to NM, curled up in a ball and died. And if I survived, I would have regretted that. That’s not the right choice for me. He helps me see that.

This past week, while he was gone in MN, I was supposed to be moving, packing . . . disassembling my life. 7 years of a life lived as if there would be 50 more. But I haven’t been. I’ve been working late hours, playing around on my iPad and trying to sleep the lonely hours away. I just don’t want to face the task. It’s much too much.

But Joe’s back. And we are going to pack boxes and create a new home. It won’t be the same. If I know anything true about myself, it’s that I hate change. But it will be a home. A home where two lost souls (and a few Gray cats) started over from scratch.

One foot in front of the other. I guess it’s time for me to grab a fork and start eating my elephant.

Have you ever had someone tell you they don’t love you any more? Have you ever had it happen twice? I don’t doubt that all of have experienced it in one form or the other. It doesn’t make it feel less painful.

Every man I have ever loved has left me.

Including Michael.

This weekend he told me he didn’t love me anymore and he was leaving. And that’s it. He’s not willing to work on it in any way.

Things have been rough since January, but I never, ever believed it would come to this. I honestly believed I would grow old with him.

I guess I was wrong.

I can’t imagine how my life is supposed to look without him.

I have no idea where to go from here. I actually have no idea what I am even writing this, except maybe it makes it real. Even if I don’t want it to be. What else am I supposed to do? Never write again?

I don’t know.

I have no idea what I am supposed to do.

It looks like Kylie is coming again in May! I am constantly looking for excuses to go to San Francisco, so it’s for sure happening. It’s even better because it’s over a weekend. So. freaking. happy.

Also, we are [hopefully] having a family retreat at my dad’s house in Minnesota this summer. Last time we kind of broke his water pipes mysteriously, so  . . .honestly, I wouldn’t be opposed to it again.

I want to take a weekend trip to Portland (to see my girl LSL). I want to take a weekend trip with my brother to Vancouver. I think I am going to go with Michael to the birth place of Jeni (aka Washington DC). And FOR SURES I am going home for Christmas. Seriously. If I don’t go home for Christmas, I better be dead.

In addition, my sister plans to come out in March. We will totally be getting new tattoos at the ONLY place I will get them now: Skin and Soul. I heart Dale. AND, plans aren’t firmed up yet, but I think my cousin Frankie is going to come out in July to see the last Harry Potter with me. This is kind of awesome because I took him to see the first Harry Potter way back in the day.

Finally, to kick it all off: I leave today to go visit Joe, et. al. in SLC.

I haven’t really, truly seen Joe since Edward’s graduation. I am excited, nervous, worried and blissfully happy. There is so much that could go wrong. But more than anything, it will be like coming home. I might sound crazy, but Joe part of my soul. Just hugging him is going to make me feel complete. And I get to do more than hug him! I get to laugh and read his mind and get competitive playing games and cook dinner and be siblings. Just thinking about it all brings happy tears to my eyes.

I feel like with this kind of start. . . 2011 can’t go wrong!

And, (FYI, I’m rambling now) I am loving that I want to blog again! I feel excited by it. I have, like, 2 or 3 post brewing! And I am turning 30 this year! Shit’s about to get crazy all up in here!

Phew. OK. I’m calm now. Off to Salt Lake!

Changes are afoot in casa de Gray Cat. Our bedroom is almost finished, we are working on re-doing the bathroom, I changed my hair to a dark red color and, oh yeah, I have a new job.

That’s right, a new job. Actually, it’s an old job. After 1 year, 4 months and 8 days, I am back with Tom. It’s all a little crazy.

So, Tom and I didn’t exactly leave things between us very good when he moved to P1 and I moved on. However, Tom and I were too close to continue not talking. Since I left, we’ve hung out at least once a quarter, enjoying our friendship. We had dinner and caught up in December, just after my dad left. As I have spoken about here, I have been dissatisfied with my job for some time. Tom has not been too pleased with the help he’s had since I left. He informed me of a few major changes in his office, one of them being that he is a manager. Two of the biggest reasons I refused to work in his office are now no longer factors. I let Tom know that if the right situation presented itself, I’d be willing to come back. I surprised even myself.

Both Tom and I thought the “right situation” may or may not ever come, yet just 3 weeks later, there it was. I will admit, though, I wasn’t completely sold on the idea. I’ve never felt that this job and this industry is where I am meant to be. Going back to Tom’s practice was making a commitment to him and his client that I was in it for the long haul. I don’t take that lightly. I didn’t want to go back just to leave again in a year. As I have documented well, I just don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.

This job isn’t exactly an ideal job (somehow I imagine myself more bohemian and less corporate), but I am good at this job. Tom and I work well together. I have been back a week and it’s like I never left. It fits well and it feels good.

I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow-up, but I don’t feel like I am wasting my time while I figure it out. I feel great about this choice. Don’t get me wrong, there will be days. But everyone has days at work. Even if you love your job. It’s life.

My life is moving in the right direction. I feel happy for the first time in years. Michael has a new job and he loves it. Things are going well. While there are still many things missing, it feels great to be a few steps closer.

For awhile, I have wanted to have a  family website. I didn’t want it to be a blog, per se. I wanted everyone in our family to have the ability to contribute. BUT, I knew if that was to be the case, it had to be EASY. Like, not just easy, but easier than sleeping. I mean, I knew if it was too complicated (i.e. having to log-in or send a friend request or anything that required me to literally show them, multiple times, how to do it) no one would do it.

Enter Posterous. This is PERFECT. You never have to log-in. Not even to see what people are posting to your site. All the posts can be emailed to you and you can email all the posts in. If you send in a link to a You Tube video, it will automatically embed it for you. If you send in 10 pics from your vacation, it will create a gallery for you. If you send in an mp3, it will convert and embed for you. All through email. You can even reply and comment through email. EASY. It couldn’t be easier. I KNOW everyone in my family checks their email at least once a day (even my grandma). It seemed perfect.

I told Dawn “This will either be my greatest achievement or an epic fail”

The jury may still be out.

I sent an email to the family (there are a good number of us) and explained the idea and how easy the site was. I got a few favorable responses. Then? Then I got hit over the head with a frying pan.

I named the site GNN. It seemed fitting. We have used that word for years (no, seriously, like probably 6 or 7 years) to describe family news. “What’s the latest GNN?” = “What’s up with everyone? Anything new I should know about”. Hell, GNN is one of my categories on this blog. I generally use it in posts that have news of some sort, especially about family. From my perspective, it’s always been a positive thing.

Apparently, my grandma wouldn’t agree. She has taken it (again, for 6 or 7 years) to mean Grandma News Network and that it’s only gossip. Meaning, we think she is the queen of Gossip. Now, I don’t want to debate the veracity of that statement, but I’m not gonna lie: our family DOES do its fair share of gossiping. Honestly, it’s netiher here nor there. The crux of the problem is that for 6 or 7 years, we’ve been saying something that has hurt my grandma.

Suffice to say, my sister and I were horrified. We, along with my dad, pretty much coined the term and use it liberally. FOR SEVEN YEARS. We’ve been hurting my grandma and building resentment for seven years. I felt like the most horrible person on earth.

BUT I was mad too. Because, apparently, Grandma has told EVERYONE except us (meaning my dad’s branch of the family) that she hates this term. So, for seven year, everyone knows she hates it, yet we use it in conversation-especially when family is together-ALL THE TIME. We have looked like the biggest, most insensitive assholes for years.

I just don’t understand why she wouldn’t say anything to us. At least to my dad, who could have trickled the information down the pipe. OR, for that matter, why didn’t my aunt or uncle or cousin say something? We’ve used that term around them plenty of times when my grandma wasn’t even there. A simple “hey, you should know, Grandma hates when you guys say that” would have been appropriate. No. They couldn’t do that.

Why? Because it was better for them to be the kind, understanding ones whilst we are the mean, assholes. I’m not joking. There has been animosity towards my dad’s branch of the family ever since I knew what the word animosity meant. Why, it was only a few years ago that, while planning for a huge family camping trip for my Grandparents 50th wedding anniversary, that an ugly letter went around complaining about certain people in the family. The outcome? The trip was canceled by my grandfather. AND THEN, a few weeks later, all the people that were supposed to go on this camping trip, MINUS my dad’s branch, went camping together. One big happy family.

I don’t understand the resentment. I don’t know what we did. All I know is that, as the years go on, my delusion that we are the best family ever invented has slowly faded away. I know who I can trust, I know who really loves me and I know who will stab me in the back for a kind word.

Is it the way it should be? No. But it’s the way it is. All part of growing up, I guess.

This skill has served me well the last few years, especially at my job. I always knew what was happening before anyone else. Sometimes, Michael would come home and find out all of these things that happened at his office that day-things that pertained to him! Even after I left last November, I have been kept in the loop.

In my little community, I don’t have many neighbors I like. Most of them are old busybodies who like to stick their nose in your business. Luckily, my neighbors directly to each side of me are AWESOME. One of them left her job earlier this year and has been enjoying an extended “funemployment” (as I’ve heard LSL call it). We got to talking a few weeks ago and I made some suggestions about her going into a similar position that I am in. I told her I would put the word out.

Well, lo and behold, not more than a week later, I got a bite. It’s actually kind of strange, because it’s in my old office, with all my old co-workers AND she’d be sitting in my exact old office and desk. To be honest, I am a tad jealous. But not really. I found out she started today and I am BEYOND thrilled! In fact, I was feeling annoyed all morning, but upon hearing that news, my day just turned around!

Honestly, I love helping people find jobs. Which means I might make a good recruiter, but the recruiters I have met in the past when hiring have always left a bad taste in my mouth. I worked with at least 4 different local companies and they were all too un-professional and dis-organized for my taste. I could never see myself working there.

The search continues.

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Hurray, hurray, I’m your silver lining. Hurray, hurray, but now I’m gold.

-Jenny Lewis, Silver Lining, Under The Blacklight

Last night, I went to see my fave singer, Jenny Lewis, in concert. This was the third time I’ve seen her, as her. I’ve also seen her twice with Rilo Kiley. It was awesome. AND she played the Landon song (aka Jack Killed Mom). We call this the Landon song because Landon has a major Oedipus Complex and the song is a story about a similar young chap. I recorded the performance with my Flip. You can view it here. Please forgive the shakey camera work. I mean, I was at a concert. She also sang an awesome version of Silver Lining-acoustic (I bend over for acoustic). I tried recording it, but I got yelled at for bootlegging. I’m an outlaw like that.

Even bigger news than that is who I went to the concert with: Heidi. I saw Heidi a few weeks ago, before my trip home. I didn’t really talk about it with anyone; I was scared of jinxing it, of getting my hopes up, of being let down. We hadn’t really talked since I got back, both of us feeling weird and unsure about contacting the other. We traded voicemail all day Saturday and we sealed the deal on the concert. We both wanted to try somewhere new for dinner, but couldn’t decide where exactly. Every once in awhile we decide to branch out. We went to Pearl, the new restaurant in Bellevue everyone is raving about. It was fantastic. I think the best part is, Heidi and I really hashed out a lot of feelings and thoughts about everything that’s happened. I feel hopeful that we can have a better, stronger friendship than before. I have hope.

I think I still have a lot of things to deal with in the aftermath of the Jeni/Joe/Heidi debacle, but huge steps have been made. I think I can make it happen.

Silver lining, indeed.

(pictures from the infamous Showbox photo booth. It starts taking pictures before you have a chance to do anything)