Catch up...

It's been an eternity since I've written because my computer has decided to go on an die. Very poor timing on it's part I must say. I've since discovered the public library but of course, it's busy and there's a time limit on the use of the computers. It's not always conducive to my meandering daydreaming that usually happens when I write.
That being said, I'm trying to figure out how to start. How do I sum up the past several weeks? It's part of the reason I've been dragging my feet on writing. So much has happened and I'm bursting at the seams to share it with you but figuring how to begin has been debilitating.
Moving here to Chicago is the best thing I could have done for myself. I'm thrilled beyond explanation to finally be living the life I've wanted for so long. I often wonder why it took an eternity to actually do it. I feel completely free here to be myself 100%, in my furry, heeled, impractical (but SO cute!) snow boots and a tank top underneath my heavy winter coat as the wind whips itself around me, threatening to take the skin off my face as I walk to work.
I couldn't ask for a better job. Assisting isn't necessarily my most favorite part of the hair industry but simply a stepping stone to the next phase in my career. I've been bouncing from Evanston to Wicker Park to Lincoln Park each week for about two months now. I am always surounded by respectful, talented, kind and helpful people. Not only have my co-workers been incredible, so have the clients.
After being a stylist for so long, it's tough going back to the bottom of the totem pole again. My hands bleed from getting dried out after being in so much water, I'm in a constant state of freaking out over obtaining models for class on Mondays when I don't know many people here, and keeping the likes and dislikes of the stylists and colorists of each location straight takes getting used to but I would not trade it for the world. I'm happy to do it because very slowly, I'm erasing my past experience as an assistant and all it's negativity and replacing it with something sparkly and uplifting.
Of course I wouldn't know what good was unless there were some unsavory moments thrown in the mix. I've gotten on the wrong bus one too many times. I've stood on a street corner looking both ways under a blast of wet, cold snow wondering where the hell I am, and I've been caught running to the train like an Olympian trying to win a gold medal only to watch the damn thing leave without me.
While work distracts me in the best way possible leaving no room for anything but the 17 things I have to do right that minute, grief still manages to find a way into my head. It reminds me that it's still here even though I moved and there is no escape. If anything it's tightened it's grip now that I'm free from my usual routine I had established in Atlanta. Everything is completely different now in Chicago. I don't just get in my car and go somewhere anymore. I map my day out according to where I'm going to be working that day and whatever gets done, gets done. Otherwise it'll have to wait.
Trains are still very novel to me. I enjoy the fact that I don't experience my psychotic road rage anymore and can sit and read or stare out the window until it's time to get off.
Walking everywhere has also been nice. Sometimes, it's a pain in the ass but there is something wonderful about replying on my own two feet to get me where I need to go.
The holidays were certainly different this year. I spent Thanksgiving in the suburbs of Chicago with one of my clients from Atlanta. On Christmas Eve, dad left me a voice mail that said all the flights to Atlanta the next day looked so bad it wouldn't be worth the effort to try and get home. I had just had an emotionally hellish week and his message was icing on that cake. I was reduced to tears as I trekked home from work in the frozen snow.
Kaci, one of my roommates was on vacation in Texas and Stacey, my other roommate had just missed her train to Michigan and was home when I walked through the door. Her sisters drove down to see her on Christmas morning and we hung out all day, went to dinner and to the movies, then to the bar that Stacey works at and had some drinks with her friends. It was the first Christmas Stacey and I had without our families. I was grateful for the company.
The week before and the week after Christmas, despite all the fun that was had were two of the darkest emotional weeks I've had since Rob died. I did everything I could think of to snap out of it. I made some sparklies, tried to write, started another creative outlet, talked on the phone, ate too much, drank too much, went out and danced, stayed up all night, slept all day, allowed myself time to cry when needed, aimlessly wandered the streets of downtown and tried desperately to get a hold of myself.
By New Years I was barely keeping it together. Kaci invited some friends over and shortly after exclaiming "Happy New Year!" I was asleep. The next morning we had more people over, made brunch and watched the first season of Friday Night Lights. Slowly people left until it was just me and Kaci on the couch, glued to the television. I was thinking about how happy I was for this moment of calm, fabulousness but at the same time, was on the verge of tears. I glanced over at herin between episodes and said, "How's you do it? How'd you move here?"
"It wasn't easy." she said and told me her story and all the ups and downs she experienced. "Why do you ask?"
"I feel like I'm going crazy. I'm truly happy here. I have everything I could ever want but underneath all the good stuff I feel I could shatter into a million peices all at once. How is it that I'm ecstatic and so upset all at once."
"Leaving is hard. You didn't move at the best time of year either. Winter is very isolating." she reminds me. "Plus, you've have a hard year."
"I know. Part of me wanted to be here in winter to get it over with It can only get better from here. I'm just trying to figure this out. I'm having feelings I've never had before and I don't know what to do with them.
"You're going to be fine. I don't worry about you at all. My door is always open if you need to cry, talk, or whatever."
"Thank you." I inhaled sharply to keep from crying right then. We went back to watching Friday Night Lights.
I believe her. It all will be ok, it's just in the meantime, I'm sorting through things and trying to figure out what to do and where to go next.