Nostalgia.

The older I get, the more nostalgia rears its ugly head. I miss all the happiness I once had because those moments have become very few these days.

When I’m out in the wide open desert, it reminds me of Rawhide – a place where I gained friends that became family and a sort of home I was lucky enough to once have – and I become calm. That feeling fades once I’m back to reality; back home in the overcrowded city rat race that is currently my life.

I have a love hate relationship with my current job. I adore some of the people I work with, but I cannot stand the callers and their anger. Essentially, that us the reason for customer service I suppose, but with my empathetic heart it has ground me down mentally to almost nothing. I’ve come a long way from being the angry person I once was, and that guarded, pissed off at the world person is coming back.

Some people love having an ever-changing, fast-paced lifestyle. The constant grind of city life calms their frantic mind. For a while, that worked for me as well. More and more I realise that’s not who I truly am. I’m not even 40 years old and my heart and mind scream, “take me away from all of this madness, I’m too old for this shit!”

I, as well as my lads, frequently reminisce about our lives in Minnesota. While it wasn’t perfect and we had our obstacles, we all miss the deafening silence of St. Paul nights and snowy days – the weather, the history, the bonfires, the lakes, the calm. We didn’t have much there but it felt like home. I wish they could’ve grown up there. We needed to go but a part of me regrets leaving and wishes we would’ve tried harder to stay.

My body craves colder weather and a greener climate. I find myself daydreaming of a place I can live in and call home, not just a place I can sometime visit. I long for a home where I can write, take photographs, relax with my family and friends… somewhere that can calm me and my thoughts.

I need a life that I don’t want to escape from.

My heart, mind, body and soul need to be elsewhere. I’m holding onto the hope that I’ll eventually find that peace again.

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Home.

It’s no secret that I’ve always hated the desert; the vast open spaces filled with dirt, cacti, sun and heat was always disgusting to me.

Today I realised, whilst waiting for TJ in a doctor’s waiting room, that this place no longer sickens me like it used to.

After having worked in dirt, heat and sunny grossness for well over a year, it’s taken until this day to actually *GASP* appreciate it. Now I even sort of miss working outside in it.

This is the view from the waiting room window. It’s oddly calming.

That realisation shocks me more than anyone else, I’m sure.

Classical music is playing over the speakers, which is further calming and causing me to reminisce…

The long, amusing, hilarious, informative, genuine talks we had on overly sunny days.. Us all melting into human puddles together… Working raves even though techno isn’t good like it used to be… Caring for farm animals.. That’s what this view reminds me of – my favourite humans and the moments we’ve shared.

Even though working there was physically hard on my seemingly ailing body, and it caused tons of heat and light triggered migraines, I wouldn’t trade those people (or the growing I did) for the world.

Don’t get me wrong… I still hate the heat, and sweat is the bane of my existence. But, until I can be a forest dwelling crazy cat lady witch of the night, this is my home and I’m okay with that.

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So.. house hunting is one of the most frustrating things on the planet!

For those of you that know me personally, you know I have a disabled husband (whom I also take care of) and that we’ve been fighting social security for disability benefits for three (possibly more) years (it’s been so long, I’ve lost count). Well, this year he FINALLY won, and now we can begin his road to recovery! That road begins with house hunting for a larger place that our family will be comfortable in. Not TOO comfortable, we don’t need to live outside of our means, just something a bit bigger than the current crackerjack box we currently reside in.

Before he became disabled, TJ was a truck driver (I was a stay at home Mum – I now work outside the home). At the time, we lived in a decent sized two bdrm one and a half bath town home. It was mostly the lads, our one furbaby and I alone in that big place unless the mister was in town, which wasn’t often as he was constantly on the road. It was just too large for us, so we moved into a smaller (two bdrm, one bath) apartment. It was fine until TJ became disabled and came home, which is when we realised living in a tuna can with giants (he is around 6’3” and the oldest is probably around 5’9”, if not taller) and three furbabies (plus the random family that stay with us) is no bueno.

Flash forward to house hunting… cue angry and frustrated Sinai.

Firstly, for what we want – which is nothing too crazy; just a three (two if we can’t find something in our price range) bdrm with two baths (you try fighting a houseful of boys over one bathroom) and preferably a backyard (because the mister would like a service animal/furbaby of his own) – we’d have to make two to three times the rent AND be able to afford $1200 per month (that’s just monthly base rent). People that make two to three times the rent are most likely not renting, they’re buying, so wot in tarnation are management companies thinking!? We’ve found a few places, within our price range, which we’re hoping aren’t occupied by the time we’re ready to move in August. Unfortunately, they’re mostly two bdrm apartments and not stand alone houses, like we wanted.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m immensely grateful we’ve gotten far enough in life to move somewhere nice as there was once a time we were homeless. We were just hopeful we’d be able to live in a home, even if it were a small home. It’s just frustrating trying to find somewhere with everything we want within our budget, that’s actually decent. I can even deal with semi-decent, as long as I never have to use a public laundromat again.

So, here’s to hoping we find a great place by the time Aug. rolls around. Here’s to also hoping they invent trees that grow money within the near future (come on, science, you can do it!), because I know some of us could really use that. Cheers. ✌️

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New year, but not a new me.

I could never get into the whole “new year, new me” bullshit. I’m constantly working on myself during the year; not just at the beginning, not just for a “resolution”. Bettering yourself has to be a conscious effort throughout your entire life or what point is there really?

A while back I started writing down the goals I wanted to achieve each year, ticking them off the list as I accomplished them. Well, I’ve lost last year’s list at some point so I decided to graduate to making a mental list of everything I want to accomplish this year. As I thought through the last year of my life I realised I’ve accomplished a lot more than just what I wanted to and that I’ve started actually planting roots somewhere.

As much as I dislike Arizona and nearly all of the people I meet whilst out in public, I’ve managed to make my life pretty great in 2016. I’ve made amazing new friends, my family is doing well, I love my job, I’ve gotten a new vehicle (that’s actually in my name) and my family has lived in the same place (with rent constantly on time) for the last few years.

We’ve come such a long way it’s mind blowing. To actually be happy the majority of the time brings me to tears because I never thought that could happen. All we’ve went through, all I’ve endured, has brought me to this happy place and it’s beautiful.

Painfully long explanation short, that’s the goal of this year for me… To make life beautiful. However I’m able – whether it be giving strangers compliments, buying beautiful wee trinkets, doing a friend’s makeup or appreciating more sunsets and cloudy skies – whatever will make life more beautiful, I’m going to do it.

Life’s too ugly and short to be caught up in the grossness. Screw the drama, the hatred, the bullshit. Make life beautiful and it will be.

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Life Update #001.

As I’m sat here choking down a disgusting beer (it’s gifted alcohol so I’ll finish it, I ain’t no bloody quitter), relaxing,  and listening to Noah Gundersen, I realised I’ve been neglecting this blog. Partly because I’ve been wrapped up in life, partly because I’ve been exhausted when I’m not wrapped up in life. Adulting is fucking exhausting, man.

I’ve been to and completed physical therapy (for my shoulder and arthritic knees) and have begun working out! This is something I’ve needed to do for a while now and physical therapy has given me the push to want to do it. It has given me the strength to not only be stronger physically, but mentally. I’ve wanted this for a long time but I’ve always been hesitant because you hear the horror stories about someone larger being bullied for working out. I’ve decided now is the time to not give a care what people think of me. This is for me. I’ve neglected myself for far too long; I need to do this.

I’ve taken my lads to several different doctors appointments I’ve not been able to in the past (due to personal bullshit and the good ole mess known as the American medical system nonsense)… Some rescheduled when I’ve had other errands to do and double booked or my anxiety wouldn’t let me out of the house. Anxiety is a bastard I’ve been working through it for a while now. I’ve been more present with them, something my mind hasn’t always allowed me to be at times. I’ve always considered myself a good Mum (have even been reassured that), but I’ve not always been there fully despite being a stay at home mum. At least, that’s how my mental illness makes me feel. At times I’ve been on Mumbie (Mum zombie) auto-pilot because of my depression. I know I shouldn’t feel guilty for struggling with my disorders, but I do. No one wants a parent that’s a mess, but my boys have got one.

Perhaps the biggest news I have is I’ve started working at an old western town called Rawhide (thanks to my lovely friend Steph pestering me to apply, as well as giving me a great reference)! I’ve got an oddly good feeling about the place. I feel it to be the beginning of something… What, I’ve no clue, but it feels like a good thing. Even if my anxiety and unsureness makes me believe otherwise almost daily. I’ve met some pretty awesome people that have taught me a lot about the place and I hope they grow to adore me as much as I already adore them.

I work attractions at Rawhide; I originally went for retail but I’m glad I didn’t get it. Honestly, attractions speaks to me, even if working outside is pretty torturous in the Arizona heat. I’ve not felt respected as a human being since working at Famous Footwear, well over a year ago.

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The gold panning attraction I work at most days. Shade and calming running water; pretty rad deal even if it feels literally hot as Hell outside.

Everything I’ve been up to thus far is helping me find myself, even if it seems trivial to others. Pushing myself to socialise, to get up and do something on a daily basis, is huge for me. I’ve always attempted to push and better myself, even if it doesn’t seem like I am. Constantly changing myself for what I hope is for the better is important.  So very important.

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