Honey, you’re just being lost

That’s been me since February 2008, if not longer…lost. Once you move 1200 miles away from the one place you’ve lived your entire life and a year later tell your husband “I’m not in love with you anymore, I don’t want to be married to you” your life turns upside down. Just because you’re the one doing the breaking up doesn’t mean you’re not broken up about it. I wasn’t just hurting him, I was also destroying and losing a handful of people who had been a part of my life for almost 8 years. Needless to say, it wasn’t an easy decision and contrary to his belief I never took it well.

So here I am over a year and a half later. You already know I’ve done plenty of dating since then. Lord knows I was completely uneducated about the process and did a piss poor job. Despite what my imagination told me at the time, I was in no condition to commit; therefore, I inevitably attracted the non-commitment type. THAT is why I’m on an indefinite mancation. Don’t be fooled, this is about the sixth time I’ve put myself on a mancation. I plan on sticking to it although I’ve already encountered a tiny challenge. But that is totes beside the point, doesn’t officially count (yet?) and I have no idea why I’m even bringing it up. Oy vey.

I turn 30 in six months and three days. Might I point out Cathalee turns 30 in 25 days? She may not approve this post now that I’ve said that. But I will argue that it’s actually a good thing. Because dammit if our 20s haven’t sucked hairy balls at times. I’m looking forward to the day I become 30, flirty and fabulous. Don’t think I’m not already planning my dirty 30 birthday party. I’ve had quite a few people tell me, women especially, that their 30s have been the best years of their lives. And I can see why. You have a good sense of who the hell you are by 30. You know what you want. If you’re lucky, you might even know what you want to be when you grow up (still working on that one, I am). And most of all, it’s the point at which older folks stop looking at you like you just got out of diapers and take you a wee bit more seriously.

I’ve challenged myself to take the next six months and three days to work on being the most amazing I’ve ever been. I’ve done a pretty damn good job of getting a jump start on things the last week or so. My pops called the other day and as soon as I’d said about four words he was all “oh my gosh, Nikki is back.” I even went back to blonde this weekend and it feels AMAZING. (I was blonde for 28 years and only went brunette the last year and a half). As I posted on my Twitter, the Carrie Bradshaw heartbreak brunette is gone. I’m working on my fitness, working on being even more gorgemous than I already am. I actually went out last Friday. Like to a club, all fancied up, drank (a lot!), danced (a lot!) and stayed up till after 3 a.m. Shenanigans! I’m also working on speaking up at work and in life, turns out I can’t make everyone happy…so f*ck ‘em, I’ll make myself damn happy. And the cherry on top is not actively seeking to date. I’m not opposed to an opportunity, a girl should always keep her options open,  I’m just not looking for it. I’m keeping my fun outside of the bedroom for as long as I can.

Basically, it’s all about me right now. I’m learning to be a little bit selfish. And for serious, it’s about time a guy chases me for once. Don’t chase me with flowers and candy, however, just watch football and drink with me. And a little dirty texting never hurt anyone. Just saying.