May 182015

I’ve never been so excited for a Monday in my life.

I’ve been pretty awesome. Work is busy and good. My coaching course is almost done and is completely awesome. Summer is just a blink away. My best friend and my entire family are coming to visit next month. My garden is growing like crazy. I’m almost 100% recovered from a disgusting head cold and a broken big toe (Seriously…don’t ask.)

But then this weekend seemed to be the culmination of all things anti-Katey. All I wanted was for it to be over. Since I couldn’t make it be over, I did everything I could to pretend none of it was happening. My favorite question to ask when someone is doing something ridiculous like that:

How’s that working for you?

It started out with an invitation from a friend I’ve been trying to avoid for months. Instead of ignoring his “Want to grab a beer?” text I invited him to a full blown dinner at a place we used to frequent. We had friends that worked that and got lots of free beer and sake in order to drink ourselves into a stupor (which we subsequently did, obviously).

Then I had to send my RSVP +1 in for my friend’s wedding next month. The one guy I asked more or less gave me a flat out “fuck no,” leading me to fully invest in the thought that there is something seriously wrong with me and I am going to die single and alone. I tried to make myself feel better by deciding I would find an amazing dress this weekend instead of an amazing date. I failed miserably. No dress. No date. Table for one, please. Wait, no. Just serve me my filet mignon at the bar.

Just in case my ego wasn’t fully beaten into a pulp, the only boy I’ve ever maybe loved was in town this weekend for his little brother’s graduation. He is with the girl who has been his girlfriend since me and him parted ways years ago.  The only thing more annoying than the fact that they are her together is the fact that I even care. Why do I? Down and out with wedding date rejection is soooo much better with a reminder that you still can’t let that stupid boy go.

Ugh. I didn’t want to feel any of it but it turns out I felt all of it anyways. Ain’t that a betch. Apparently no amount of wine or vodka can numb this girl anymore.

So as far as how pretending none of it was happening worked for me? All I got was all the freaking feelings anyways. PLUS a hangover. No bueno.

I can’t numb it so I may as well just feel it. I think that makes it be over faster. Through. Not around. We know this one, guys. I’ve learned it over and over again for you.

Yeah, Monday. I was real happy to see you. There is something about the weekend that really gets to me sometimes. I need a routine. I need work. I need something more. I guess I know all this too and just forgot. What is that anyways?

It’s the extreme balance of the universe. Duh. The second you forget about it is the second the universe decides you gon’ learn to-day!

Most of the above bitchfest is easy to imagine balancing out. If that guy hadn’t left for her, I may not have done all the amazing things I’ve done in the last five years. Maybe I’ll meet someone at the wedding and a date would totally cramp my style. Maybe that guy I invited will end up doing something else that night that will totally change his life for the better. Maybe the perfect dress is waiting for me next weekend. Maybe I need a reminder that it’s time to finally let go.

This goes on and on and on. It’s actually an amazing tool for gratitude practice. How is this best thing for me the worst thing that happens to someone else? And how is this worst thing that happens for me creating the best thing for someone else?

What about the person who was fired from the dream job that I was then hired for? What about when I was the other girl and caused someone else to feel the way I’m feeling…without even knowing? There has got to be a million other examples.

I need to miss out on something to have this awful time in my mind. I have to have this awful battle with my ego to figure out what it is I actually need and want. I have to believe that everything I feel like I’m missing out on is creating something beautiful for someone else right now, right in this second that I feel like I’m missing it. I also have to believe that the awful feeling of right now is creating space for an amazing feeling for me at some point in the future.

Because remember when I felt like this?

Or like this?

Then this happened? Or this?

Yeah. I definitely believe it.

 May 18, 2015
Apr 072015

Facebook is doing this cute new thing where they show you a picture of something you were doing “x years ago today.” When I logged in today it was a picture of the beach in Pattaya, Thailand exactly three years ago.  I had been abroad for a few weeks and had probably been in Thailand for a day or two. Pattaya was my first stop. I remember taking the picture. I even remember some of the comments I got after posting it:

“Is this a real picture?” 


Oh yeah. It’s a real picture. I understand the comment, though. Sometimes I have a hard time believing I took it. Sometimes I almost can’t believe that I was ever even there. Man, I was a crazy mo-fo back then. I guess I still am because I’d probably do it all again in half a heartbeat. What an amazing part of my life to look back on.  That place and picture wouldn’t even hold a candle to what was coming for me. The past is such a funny thing, though. And pictures don’t tell the whole story. I rarely look at the photos I took when I was in Thailand. Three years later, I still find myself with a lot of what-ifs.

What if I stayed longer? What if I had never even gone? What if I went somewhere else instead of coming back to the states? What if I went right now? What if had died there? No really. I thought I was going to die over there more than once. My what-ifs don’t feel like regret. There isn’t any sadness or sorrow or negativity behind them. I don’t feel like I missed out on anything I won’t have the opportunity for again. My what-ifs just feel really curious. There are so many unanswered questions about what was really going on for me during that time in my life.

And thinking about that time in my life always makes me think about this picture:


Have you seen this picture? Yeah, that’s my nose. And my finger. Do you see that heart on my fingernail? It was right before Valentine’s Day. I’d just survived the worst, most depressed, upsetting months of my life. I was doing everything in my power to make myself feel okay – tiny nail polish hearts included. Things still weren’t great. I’d been back in the states for 6 months. I felt as if I’d failed miserably at moving to Thailand and was obsessed with getting back to San Diego. I was 28 and living with my parents. I had to take a job earning 10 bucks an hour working for someone 5 years younger than me. Thinking about these things two years later still makes me cringe a little bit.

I was slowly coming out the other side though. That shitty job got me out of the house and actually turned into something I had fun with. One night, I took my iPhone into the upstairs bathroom. I took photos. Lots of them. I had joined Fizzle and was bursting with motivation. I had so many ideas pouring out of me all the time. I had a legal pad full 0f blog post topics. I wrote a 32 page guide about how to get over the calorie counting obsession. I stayed up until 2 and 3 o’clock in the morning changing around the design and messing with the CSS of the site and writing program outlines. I thought I knew exactly what I wanted to do with the website and my ideas and my life. I published posts and articles and inspiration. I even scheduled a podcast interview with another Fizzle member to talk about it.  I asked people to tell me about what they were going through. I wanted their “Calorie Confessions.” They emailed me. I responded.

And then I just…stopped. I don’t even remember why. Maybe I was waiting for something. Maybe I gave up. Maybe I was scared. Maybe it just didn’t feel right. I deleted everything that was there and put up a “coming soon” page. I really did think it was coming soon at the time. Or at least I thought it was coming “as soon as.” As soon as I lost more weight. As soon as I felt better and wasn’t so depressed. As soon as winter was over. Then as soon as summer was over. As soon as I moved back to San Diego. As soon as…everything. I’ve been through so much since then you’d think it would count as “everything.” Instead, has been sitting there for over 2 years. I know in my fucking gut that my life is in that website somewhere. Somewhere.

I’ve wanted to be a coach and start this thing up for years, long before I even went abroad. The funniest part? Now I have a job that I love. I can’t possibly imagine giving it up but now I almost want to do my own thing even more. I want to be a coach and have my own business more than I did when I was working a soul-sucking job for minimum wage. Maybe it’s because I work so closely for someone that is doing what I want to do so well. Maybe I’ve finally gotten to the point where I simply can’t not do it anymore. Maybe I’m finally in a place where I don’t really have anything to lose. Maybe, because I have this job, there is no desperation or neediness around it. It’s become this piece of my life that is just…missing. It isn’t lost. I know exactly where it is. I just need to pick it up and put it back in it’s place.

The other part of this whole loving your job thing is that, well…you love your job. You know that you would also love your own business, doing your own work. How do you pick one?

Answer: You don’t.

You get to have both for as long as you want. You get to love both. You get to have it all until the time comes when you only want one or the other or something else completely. If you want both forever, that’s okay, too. If you want to quit it all and start over tomorrow – fine. I was giving myself anxiety about a decision that doesn’t even have to be made. This seems to be something I do right before I find myself taking a picture of my life that makes other people ask if this is even real.

So…is it a real picture?

Yup. It’s real. And it’s real fucking beautiful. Just like the rest of the pictures that got you from that moment three years ago to this moment right here.

 April 7, 2015
Mar 272015

If I don’t get a post out right now SO HELP ME UNIVERSE I might explode into a million unreleased, unfinished, twisty tied up thoughts and feelings and sentences that will splatter all over the space around me and make a horrible MESS.

Whew. I feel better already. And phew. Because I don’t think anybody wants to clean up Katey-splatter.

You know my drill, guys. I wait until I have too much to say and end up saying nothing at all. I don’t know why I do this to myself. I was almost certain that things would get better after I talked it through with 2015 so far. It turns out things have only become wackier. I’m pretty sure it’s an actual thing that is going on, though. Meaning…it isn’t just me. There is an actual weird universe energy ju-ju and it is making everyone a little crazy. I tried to fight it for a little bit until I got an email from a close friend explaining her simultaneous overwhelm/love of life.  It was all I needed to get a little perspective. One day I can’t even handle being a real person and the next day I’m be so in love with life that I want to cry. I’m just doing my best to go with it for now because something tells me getting through this time will lead to something wonderful.

But let’s get back to right now. It’s 82 degrees and sunny here in San Diego. I’m actually writing to you from the beach. I might be the luckiest girl in the world, full up with gratitude.

Ugh. Those words feel like a big fat lie.

I should feel that way but I don’t feel very lucky right now. I feel like my life is a fat, messy, ugly, walking contradiction. What is up with that? I know I’ve sat right here in this spot and felt truly lucky and so grateful I would forget to breathe. So why should today be different? I am determined to be this way even when all else disagrees. That is when it’s the most important. I have to be the luckiest especially when I feel like a loser. I must be grateful and say thank you when it is most difficult to do so. Like when I have a dream job but still feel unappreciated sometimes. When I finally find a beautiful place to live that feels like home but my neighbor turns out to be a crazy mother f-er. Or when I’m constantly being asked for health advice by people around me – proving that I could get paid for it – but I can’t remember a time when I felt worse in my own body than I do right now. When it takes me 30 years to meet a man whose kisses feel like magic but he just happens to be divorced with four kids. And when the only thing that scares me more than not getting everything I want is actually getting everything I want. When there is still so much I want to do and see and feel and experience that I feel like I’ll just never get to.

All minor details…right?

We have our work cut out for us here. This shit is hard. My neighbor tells me I work too much. Probably because my honest response to any question about what I’m doing in the past, present or future usually involves me saying I have work to do. Because THERE IS ALWAYS WORK TO DO. I have my job work. I have my coaching work. I have my personal development work. I have my writing work. Swinging in my hammock work. Drinking coffee at the beach work.

Work, work, work.


Listen. This isn’t work. This is my LIFE. That means I work just the right amount. Sometimes I get tired. So I take a break. Sometimes I get inspired. So I work even harder.  I don’t care if you do more work than me or less work. This isn’t a competition. I don’t care if your work looks different than mine. I don’t care if I call something work that you wouldn’t. It doesn’t matter at all because I’m not going to stop. Ever. I don’t even have plans to slow down. I want to speed up. I want to do more. You get a tiny little taste of what lucky really feels like, what it feels like to be so completely grateful that you feel infinite and invincible and there is no fucking way you can stop.

So let’s not make excuses about why something is the way it is anymore. I’m experiencing all those things I don’t like right now but they don’t define who I am. They don’t even have to mean anything I don’t want them to. Why would I let them stop me? Once you decide that something has no power over you, you get to do anything you want to do and feel anything you want to feel.

“There are soul-justified reasons to cancel. There are times to stop. This isn’t one of them. Keep going. Decide to be one of those people who pulls it off. Do what you say you’re going to do. Don’t let us down. Decide to rise.”  

– Danielle Laporte

 March 27, 2015
Feb 102015

Dang, 2015. You sure are throwin’ me for a loop. You aren’t turning out at all as I thought you would. Luckily, we have plenty of time to get this thing in check, get this thing in gear, get this thing warmed up (I’m f-ing freezing, San Diego!) and get this thing going, please.

You know when you’re really looking forward to something so much that it feels like it will never ever actually get here?  It’s been a little over 3 years since the day I walked out of my old apartment for the last time. I never could have imagined all that would happen for me over the next few years. I never could have imagined what would happen over the last year or even the last month. It is surreal how it all happens. When I moved back to San Diego, I had these beautiful dreams of walking back into town and finding a place just like my old one. Instead, I found myself couch surfing for weeks until I finally surrendered myself to a roommate situation that was able to redeem itself only by being less than a block from the beach. I ended up living there until a few weeks ago, several months after I was ready to move out. There were days that I honestly thought I was doomed to live in that house forever. Twelve days after one of those doomy days, I was signing a new lease and picking up the keys to my own place. I thought it would never happen but here I am. It never feels the way you think it would, does it? I love my new little corner of the world. I knew it was right the moment I saw it. Unfortunately, it takes some time to get settled in. Everything is so disorganized. My normal routine is non-existent. I don’t have a place for each thing or a thing for each place. There isn’t enough space for my clothes. There is too much clothes for my space. Half the time I don’t even know where to sit. The disorganization somehow trickles into the rest of life and I can’t seem to shake it. I like organization and routine. I like every thing in its place. I like lots of places to sit.

So while I sit on the floor waiting for my new furniture, I’ll drink my anti-anxiety-tea and wonder what is happening. Did you forget already, 2015? I told you what we wanted.

We wanted to be open and free. Curled in a ball under the covers is certainly not what I had in mind. I don’t really associate my freedom with thick socks and layers of sweaters and feeling chained to my warm cozy bed. OOF. Why does each winter always seem longer than the one before? I know what you’re thinking. I live in San Diego. I’m not allowed to complain about winter. I say…yes, I AM. I’m allowed to complain about winter.  A model is allowed to have an ugly day.  A skinny girl is allowed to feel bad about her body. It is cold. It is dark. It is winter. It makes me sad and somber and I want it gone. A few more weeks until daylight savings. I’m giving you a pass until then, 2015.

And what about that connected, excited, romantic part, 2015? I can almost hear the heavens laughing at me from here. I was stood up a few weeks ago. Hows that for connection and romance? I was pretty pissed at first. Did you forgot your manners too, 2015? He didn’t even apologize but thought it appropriate to ask me out twice after that. I almost said yes the second time. I wanted to. Then I decided that being bored or lonely isn’t a good enough reason to lower my standards. It certainly isn’t a reason to accept an invitation to dinner from a guy that stood me up without good cause. Maybe you think he should get another chance. Maybe this is why I’m still single. Maybe you think my standards are too high. But right now I think that if ignoring him means my standards are too high then I prefer to be alone.  I wonder if the guy that I want will ever actually be the guy that I actually like. And I wonder if the guy that I like will never be the guy that I need.  Do people just pick one of those things and forget about all the rest? Is it ever easy and simple and mutual? Maybe people settle more than they actually find the type of person they’ve been looking for.  How do you go about finding this person and protecting yourself from assholes at the same time? How do you know when you’re being the asshole versus when you’re just putting your own needs first? And how do you know when you’re putting yourself first or putting up a wall? I am missing something here. Something about the world around me. Something about myself.  I want to know the answers to these questions. For the love of love 2015, we’re totally blowing this one.

And remember when we wanted to feel infinite? Like we could go on forever and be anything and do anything and have anything and everything we wanted and that our time and life was limitless and couldn’t be measured by any person or any thing? I want to learn so much and do it all. It doesn’t feel infinite. It feels like too much. Every minute I spend on one topic is a minute I can’t spend on another. I can’t read a book on money unless I’m not reading a book on relationships. I can’t read a book on health unless I’m not reading a book about money. I can’t write a blog here  if I’m writing a profile over there. So what’s a girl to do? How can I ever expect to have more than one thing at a time? How can anyone? We make time for the things that are important, but what if they are all so important to you that your heart cries and aches when you feel like you aren’t doing enough but don’t know how you can possibly do any more? My solution for this is usually to:

Do nothing. See “curled in a ball under covers” above.

Cry. Sometimes all I need is a really good cry but I’ll be too stubborn to cry hard enough to even make it count. Other times, I’ll be in the most inconvenient of places and have to the urge to let it all out. That girl walking down the pier with mascara running out from underneath her sunglasses? Yeah, probably me. That other girl sulking and lost in front of the empty bin where the organic baby spinach is supposed to be? Me again. The other one sobbing uncontrollably in the car next to you at the stop light? Yes, that was me too.

As you can see, “do nothing” is clearly the better option of two terrible options.

What if I’m one of the weak ones? When I did social work, I had a teen girl that was in foster care because she found her drug addicted mother dead in a cardboard box in her front yard. I worked with another girl who was put into a group home and was molested by one of the staff members there. I had another kid who was one of the best looking, most charming young men I’ve ever met in my entire life and his past was worse than A Child Called It.  I know one person’s life problems can’t be related or compared to another person’s. But seriously, what if I’m one of the weak ones? My life is blessed but still I can’t seem to move forward.  I can’t calm down my ego or stop drinking or lose the extra pounds I’m carrying around or be as successful and rich as I want to be, as fast as I want? I need another option here.

Grow up and get the fuck over it, Katey. There is absolutely no reason why you can’t have it all. 

So, 2015. You’re nothing like I thought you would be…yet. I think you’re doing the right thing, though. What better way to start the year than with a big huge bitch slap? It’s not you, 2015. It’s me. I guess I was the one who forgot, huh? I won’t be doing that again. Even through this odd, uncomfortable, nowhere-to-sit beginning of the year, I’ve always felt like the universe had my back.  I have faith, hope and love that we’re gonna pull this thing together, 2015. It sounds like a much better plan.

 February 10, 2015
Jan 012015

It’s time to say goodbye again already.

Goodbye 2014. You were a beautiful year. I knew you would be.

I didn’t go out last night. Not a single sip of alcohol passed these lips. If 2014 was beautiful then no hangover on the first day of 2015 is fucking gorgeous. Isn’t it such a backwards way of doing things? People are so hyped on resolutions and having a clean slate on January 1st. Why do we always choose to start with a hangover? I can have a hangover on any day. It’s nice to start my new year in a way that actually sets the tone for the kind of year I’d like to have. I like not making a huge deal of the new year. This is no clean slate or reset after all. No do-overs, no erasing the past. No major difference between any other two consecutive days. The last day of one year and the first day of the next year. There is no benefit in pretending that life and time isn’t just one long continuous …thing.

The end of the year always brings mixed feelings for me. Part of me loves the christmas season. The other part of me feels so completely lonely and empty leading up to the holidays that it physically hurts. I sleep late, binge watch Netflix, and consume everything in sight to try and fill some void that I can’t even define. I start to get sucked into the resolution bullshit. Instead of focusing on all the amazing things that happened, I get stuck thinking about all that could and should have happened for me. I thought it would be the year I found love. It wasn’t. I thought it would be the year I got back into shape. It wasn’t. I thought I would get my own place and travel again. I didn’t. I thought it would be the year I wrote a book and paid off my debt. It kind of was. It also kind of wasn’t. I spend the days thinking about all that wasn’t or didn’t, wishing the time away until I go back east to see my family. Because I know a hug from my family will be just what I need. I also know that it will fly by in a blur and the sooner it is over, the sooner I get to sit alone and be quiet and think about my life and write. This is the time that makes all that hurting go away. This is the time I get to write about it all. This is the time I get to think about all the good that has happened this year.  I think about how I imagined this year was going to be like compared to how it really turned out. I think about where I was and who I was on December 31, 2013. I go back and forth between feeling complete awe, complete pain, and complete gratitude. This time is the best time for me.

So what even happened in 2014?

I wrote my 100th post. I was fired. I went to the beach – a lot. I watched my sister get married. I was hired. I read a lot of books. I watched a lot of sunsets. I had a lot of fun. I made a bunch of mistakes. I made lot of good decisions, too.

According to my last new year’s post, I was hoping to spend the year feeling grateful, lusty, free, calm, strong, connected, abundant, fearless. I think I lived that most of the time. At the very least I was living them more by the end of the year than I was at the beginning.

Now I want to feel this: Open. Free. Connected. Excited. Romantic. Infinite.

The words are funny. Some are the same. Plus one year. Just a little more grown up. All quite doable.

I don’t have too much more to say. I have a feeling that 2015 will be a great year. Why wouldn’t it be? They really do keep getting better. I have so many plans. I’ll do more of the things I want to do more of, and less of the things I want to do less of. Can it get more simple than that? More writing, more reading, more sunsets, more new things, more movement, more nutrition, more family, more life.

I still just want more of this beautiful life. I don’t think that will ever change.

 January 1, 2015
Dec 222014
She was never crazy.

Finally. someone understands. I swear R.M. Drake reads my diary at night. She was never crazy. She just didn’t want her heart to settle in a cage.   -R.M Drake OK…I don’t really keep a diary. This blog is my diary. But: Maybe we feel empty because we leave pieces of ourselves in  everything we used to love. -R.M. Drake Wow. Then: And she always had a way with her brokenness. She would take her pieces […]

 December 22, 2014
Nov 272014

The Thanksgiving Post remains my most popular post to date. I don’t really know why. I was still pretty new to this blogger-writing-in-public thing. The words and thanks were genuine but I still had no idea what I was doing. I love Thanksgiving. I am lonely and I am a little bit sad today, though. A typical Thanksgiving will not be happening for me. I am 3,000 miles away from my family and best friends. […]

 November 27, 2014
Nov 182014
more Tiny Beautiful Things

I’ve loved Cheryl Strayed for a very long time. I love Dear Sugar and my favorite mother f-ing mug is more or less attached to my hand. I’m rereading Tiny Beautiful Things right now. It is one of those books that you can read over and over because every time it feels a little different and will mean something else and something more. Last time, I felt this. Right now, it feels like this: “She’d have to find […]

 November 18, 2014
Nov 052014
Once upon a time.

Wednesday. Humpday. That is definitely what today was. I had zero energy or enthusiasm for anything.  I forced myself to get up with my alarm so I would work out. I felt like I was dragging ass the whole time and probably should’ve just used the time to get some more sleep. Everything seemed twice as hard as it should have been and I didn’t smile nearly enough. I don’t know if it’s the time […]

 November 5, 2014
Sep 222014
September Love Letter

Aaahhhh. September. I love you so. September is my favorite month. The weather is always perfect, the crowds are gone and there are birthdays galore (New Year’s babies for sure). I’m also lucky enough to live in San Diego where September doesn’t mean the beginning of the end of summer. Days are definitely getting shorter but there isn’t any looming feeling about winter letting my depression gene bust out of its cage. Summer weather is […]

 September 22, 2014