DDM
February 11, 2013

I was the proud owner of a dashboard decision maker

At least that’s what we called it

I found it at the bottom

Of a Lucky Charms box

 

It was made of clear plastic

A bubble revealing a die inside

Six sides that held our fate

 

Yes, no, maybe so

 

I shoved it in my pocket

And We hit the streets,

The way we always did

 

No plans

Just us

 

3 blocks from my house

I revealed the plastic toy

 

A stick of gum later

And it was on the jeep dashboard

Like a cheap Garmin

 

Hey, DDM, we’re at a red light

Should we turn left

 

Pop

 

Yes! And left we went

 

Our guide drove us through

The city

A city we had memorized

After years of riding in backseats

Carpooling through the suburbs

Gazing beyond the trees wondering

What was outside of our bubble?

 

Our version of Google maps

Lead us to our favorite place

Where rules didn’t apply

 

We ditched our shoes

Letting our toes feel the earth

 

Countless nights welcomed us

There

To the marina

A lake serving

As the backyard

To mansions we would never know

 

We sipped alcohol

From our parents homes

Smoked flavored cigars

And swam to the floating dock

With a single fear of

creatures

in the water

 

It was a place to see the stars

A place

Only found beyond the maze of

Paved country roads

 

But Somewhere along the route

I lost the guide we had that night

 

Since then, the tires of

The jeep have covered

Enough miles for the Guinness book

The marina sands

Have turned themselves

Bearing witness to

Rites of passage

Adventure-seeking souls

Looking for answers

In the night skies

Worthy of a Tom petty song

 

I can’t help but wonder

Where that dashboard decision maker

Might’ve taken me

If I hadn’t lost it

If I hadn’t lost

You

Memories out back.
April 1, 2012

Last night, I joined a girlfriend for dinner before an event we had tickets for. The event, an MMA fight, was in an area of town that doesn’t have much going on. The best we could find was an Outback Steakhouse.

Outback Steakhouse was the first job I ever had. I was 16, had just gotten my license and a car, and a few of my friends worked there. After filling out an application, taking a quick math test, and passing an interview, I landed my first moneymaker.

I was so excited.

I didn’t realize it then, but it was a pretty lucrative gig. I was a hostess, so my job was simply seating guests and rolling silverware. I got a small hourly wage and a percentage of the tips for the night.

At 16, I was blind to several of the problems my older coworkers had. I was just there for gas money, while some of them had families, and mouths to feed.

That same year, I went to our high school’s winter formal with one of my best guy friends who also worked at Outback with me. We joined a group of our friends and coworkers for the dance and decided to head to Outback when it was over.

To our surprise, our coworkers let us in after the restaurant closed that night. They let us in the kitchen, in our formal wear, and fix ourselves slices of raspberry cheesecake.

It was simple, and it was so much fun.

I had forgotten about that night until I sat at the Outback bar last night. Just as I was approaching my second margarita, a group of four high schoolers sat near us, dressed for prom.

They were taking funny pictures, laughing when they teetered in their uncomfortable heels, and were constantly adjusting their shimmering gowns.

It took me back, ten years, to that night with my friends.

“I would love to go back,” my friend told me. She was looking in their direction, too.

“Me too,” I said. “I cared so much back then. I cared about good grades and being popular. Why?”

Mrs. Bieber
February 14, 2012

I was excited this morning when I heard a sweet story on the news: the story of Mrs. Bieber.

Mrs. Bieber, or Avalanna, is a 6-year-old who is diagnosed with a rare type of cancer. She is a huge Justin Bieber fan, so much so, she had a fake wedding to him. When the Biebs heard this, he surprised her yesterday with autographs and kisses!

So sweet!

Guilty pleasure.
February 6, 2012

Last week, I was driving home late from a meeting and was blaring my usual 90′s music station. I squealed with delight as the Backstreet Boys’ “Everybody (Backstreet’s Back)” came on the radio.

Is the song a work of art? Hardly.

But listening to it brought me back—way back—to the days when songs from boy bands were as deep as it got. Heartbreak? That’s what happened when a concert was over. No, seriously, I was almost in tears after seeing the Backstreet Boys live. My other loves were, of course, Hanson, *NSYNC, and 98 Degrees, among others.

While I love the video for “Everybody,” I just had to post “Quit Playing Games (With My Heart)” because it’s super cheesy, while simultaneously capturing everything that is quintessential about boy bands.

“Everything I do is for you, so what is it that you can’t see?” -The Backstreet Boys

Drive down memory lane.
January 19, 2012

Before I left work yesterday, I was rummaging around in my desk and came across an old stack of CDs. Near the top was one very dear to my heart: The Spirit Room by Michelle Branch.

This album came out in 2001, when I was a junior in high school.

This was the same year my parents divorced, the same year I had my first kiss, the same year I got my license.

So, I took the CD with my when I got in my car last night. I was shocked at how fast I was brought back, 11 years ago. I felt the same sense of freedom, and could almost feel the wind against my face (I used to drive with my windows down, one arm out the window).

I distinctly recall driving down the long, winding roads of Indiana, perhaps on my way home, or just driving for the sake of it, and listening to this album as loud as I could.

So many of the songs spoke to me regarding my parents, or even my first boyfriend, and Branch herself was just 18.

I loved songs such as, “You Get Me,” about being an outsider, and “All You Wanted,” about helping a friend. The ballads on the album are equally as moving, from the popular “Goodbye to You,” to “Drop in the Ocean.”

I must have listened to the CD hundreds of times, because even years later, I could still sing nearly all of the songs.

What music brings you back?

Still alive.
March 21, 2011

Hello all!

I want to offer my sincere apologies for not writing in well over a month. I know, I’m a slacker…and I’m kicking myself in the ass for it.

Truth be told, I’ve made the mistake of letting other things get in the way of making progress on my book…things like work, freelance, and just being lazy.

All terrible excuses, I know.

I’m starting to wonder what happened to my fire, my inspiration with this book. If I don’t have it, no one else is going to have it.

I thought writing the book was going to be the hard part…now that I’ve done that, I think the editing has put a gray cloud over me, as I know I have lots of work to do.

My first rounds of edits came in, and I want to thank everyone who helped me out. I’m almost embarrassed by the work I sent you, as I know it wasn’t my best.

The consensus was that I need to show, not tell, which I completely agree with. My frustration lies in the fact that showing is something I often do in my casual writing…I think when I sat down at my computer to write my book, I suddenly got all formal and weird about it…and it wasn’t quite me.

So, as I said, I have lots of work to do. Please stick with me.

Are there some writers out there? Has this happened to you? If so, how did you get through it?

I promise I won’t be gone for long…it’s time to get it crackin’!

The day you’ve been waiting for…
January 13, 2011

That last post (below) was one a wrote WHILE giving a presentation on why blogging is great for business. I logged into my Dashboard and showed the audience just how easy it is to post using WordPress (I know, I should be paid for this stuff).

But anyway, last night I finally finished editing the rough draft of my book—How to Make Lemonade! WahoOoOoOo! I just sent out the rough copies to all of you who offered to help me even further, and I am so grateful for that. I really do need all the help I can get.

Let me know if you want a rough copy!

What’s next? Actually putting that 2011 Writer’s Market to use, writing a query letter and spending lots of time at the post office…

Wave Goodbye.
November 19, 2010

After Austin graduated, I went on vacation to St. Thomas with my mom and best friend. Austin was still in Baton Rouge looking for jobs.

In mid June, I spent three days and nights with Austin. Thursday night was the first time we saw each other since I got back from St. Thomas. I really missed him. When I left for vacation, I honestly didn’t think I’d miss him, but I did. The three days we spent together were good, we didn’t even fight.

Austin was planning to leave for Dallas on a Friday. We planned to say our goodbyes on Wednesday. I didn’t expect to be as sad as I was. Ever since Austin and I broke up I battled up and down feelings for him. Some days I missed him, others I never thought about him. Some days I felt maybe I loved him. Others it was close to hatred.

There aren’t many things I found particularly intriguing or stunning about Austin. We fought more than I had ever fought with anyone. But I couldn’t get rid of him. But still, nothing felt worse than him leaving—I couldn’t have been more upset.

Austin made me laugh. He let me be me (or so I thought) and things were comfortable with him. There were some things that were wrong between us, but there was a lot that was right. At that point, Austin was the only man who’d ever really broken up with me instead of just ignoring me. After all the fights or disagreements he was still around.

Sadly, I was scared that when he moved to Dallas, he’d find someone else. She would be smarter than me and more girly and probably gorgeous. But mainly, she’d live in Dallas. And that’s something I could never offer Austin. He said he’ll miss me when he goes and I should visit him in July. However, I prepared myself for the worst—that being that he wouldn’t miss me and he would find someone else and we’d never talk again.

I never thought all of these feelings would come up. Austin was my last friend in Baton Rouge. I knew I’d be busy with work and school, so I thought that would help with the whole “missing” thing. There were things I wanted to tell Austin before he left, but I didn’t know if I should. So, I wrote him a letter:

Austin,

I know you probably didn’t want things to get all cheesy when you left, but I really wanted to share some things with you. If I’ve learned anything about relationships, it’s to tell someone what you’re thinking before it’s too late.

As great as I may be with words, I’m horrible at expressing my feelings in person. So, the writer in me has probably been composing this letter for the past year.

I really want you to know, I really am going to miss you. No matter what I’ve said or told you, I will miss you being around! Anything I’ve said to make you feel otherwise is only a wall I’ve put up to avoid getting hurt again.

I couldn’t be more thankful of the relationship we’ve had: romantic and friendly. Although I habitually drop the “asshole” name on you, most of the time I don’t mean it.

Truthfully, of all the boyfriends I’ve had, you’re the only one who’s actually broken up with me as opposed to simply ignoring me. I do recognize the respect you’ve had for me and I’m really thankful for it.

As much as you might hate me for doing this, I can’t help but remember a few things. When my relationship before you was over, I’d gotten my heart broken for the first time by my best friend of five years. I thought things were over for me already.

But when you asked me out for dinner (in the stockroom) I was more shocked than ever. I didn’t know anything about you and didn’t know if we’d have anything to talk about. But it was one of the best first dates I’ve ever been on. What I remember most about those days are the small things: our Fat Joe song, carving our initials into the Caterie bar after doing shots of red snapper, the text messages, and our long phone conversations when we’d pretend to be exes and talk about ourselves.

Although things were good, I never thought we’d remain friends (what can I say, it’s not really my style). Most of my exes come back around, but I never put up with them. I guess I’ve got a soft spot for you, Austin!

But as sad as I am to see you go, I am really happy for you. I’m looking forward to hearing about your job and the new home.

By the time you read this, I’ve probably already shed a few tears and maybe even packs a bag for Dallas! But don’t miss me too much, Austin!

Looking forward to hearing from you and seeing you…

Love Always,

Holly Ann

I ended up rewriting the letter and giving it to Austin on our last night together, in Baton Rouge. That night, I cried when I left Austin’s house—ugly girl style.

The night was awkward and short. We didn’t meet each other for dinner until 8 and then we went back to his place and he was in bed, asleep by 10. As I laid there, with him asleep I couldn’t help but get upset for two reasons:

1. I took off work to see him tonight and he wanted to sleep?

2. Why do I think that way?

I am convinced I just wanted everything I can’t have. When I was at work I want to be at home. When I was at home or with someone I felt guilty for not being at work.

That was the last night I would see Austin for who knows how long and all I could do was be mad that I was “wasting” my time laying there. Why couldn’t I just be content laying there with him for one last time? I hated saying bye to people and I had to say bye to too many great people during the past month.

I didn’t know what to expect between Austin and I since we had never been this far apart. I didn’t know if he’d really call me or really want me to visit him once he got there.

I was so glad I wrote that letter. I left it by his bed since he was basically asleep when I left.

On Austin’s last night in Baton Rouge, I got home from work there were roses on my doorstep (3 red, 2 pink). There was also a thank you card with it and he wrote a beautiful letter inside. Of course, I cried like I had been for the previous four nights. But the things in the letter were very sweet and the flowers on my doorstep are something I’d always wanted.

I knew I’d miss Austin and think about him daily. But I also knew I was going to be okay.

THANK YOU

Just two small words to express so much gratitude.

Holly,

So this is it! I’m moving to Dallas! I still remember the time we went to Tsunami and what I had told you. I needed someone to be a backbone for me, someone to help me when I fall, someone to listen to my endless bitching! Well, months and months later, there you are. You have become that someone who I need. I can’t put into words all the bullshit I have put you through. For you to still be by my side is a wonder, in itself! Every relationship I have been involved in, I have learned something. But no relationship have I learned and gained so much from as ours. You have been there for me time and time again, even when you had every right not to be. Thank you Holly from the bottom of my heart. Dallas won’t be the ideal situation without you there. My dreams and ambitions take me far, I believe in myself and what I can do, and have no limits on achieving success. Thank you for being a part of these dreams and ambitions, you have helped me make them a reality! Please don’t forget what we have here, and I want a date ASAP for your trip to Dallas. More than anything, I will miss you!

Love,

Austin

Back to Texas.
November 18, 2010

After I cooled off from being royally reject by Eddie, I went back on my word and started talking to Austin again. Naturally, when my friends found out Austin and I were talking again, they were skeptical—warning me that all Austin wanted from me was sex, but I gave him the benefit since I cared for him and I didn’t think him and I had a relationship like that.

But I stayed over at his apartment one night when he wanted to have sex. I didn’t want to and he got pissed when I said no, it made me feel like he’d just been buttering me up the entire time. I honestly thought we’d been hanging out because he enjoyed my company, not to sleep with me.

I was confused. So I didn’t talk to Austin, and he didn’t bother to call me. I figured he was embarrassed, but I was waiting for an apology. I thought I was really into him when we were together, then he dumped me and moved on quickly. Then we start talking again, but also start fighting again. What was I supposed to do with someone who clearly didn’t respect me?

I knew I couldn’t even have a friend like that. I hoped it wouldn’t get blown out of proportion—I didn’t want him to graduate and move away without a better understanding of why it happened. Austin may not have even realized what he did wrong, which was a problem in itself. I just didn’t know why I felt so bad about the whole thing; I didn’t do anything wrong. I certainly wasn’t going to sleep with him out of guilt and I made it clear I wasn’t going to sleep with him at all. Austin made it obvious he couldn’t handle sleeping with me when we weren’t together. For that reason alone, I didn’t want to sleep with him. The worst feeling is knowing the person you just slept with regrets it.

I always ragged on Austin for hanging out with whores—but maybe that’s why he expected sex so easily. For about a month, Austin kept telling me he enjoyed my company, he liked me, and drunkenly admitted to loving me, but how could he honestly feel that way, but act completely different? It made me question his motives.

A month later, Austin was celebrating his graduation from LSU. To celebrate, we went out to dinner at the same place we had our first date. I gave him a gift—a pair of silver Prada sunglasses, along with a card:

Congrats, Austin!

I know you’ve been waiting and ready to graduate for a long time and I hope it’s everything you wished it would be.

The decisions you have to make are stressful, but always remember to do what’s going to make you the happiest. I know wherever you end up—you’re going to be great, you are so driven and hard-working. It will pay off!

Best of luck, in all that comes your way, Prada.

Thanks for all the great memories.

Love always,

Holly

Stupid Hat.
November 15, 2010

I managed to survive my time at work, even when Austin was around. He wasn’t dating anyone else, and neither was I. In June, he told me he wanted to take me to the Marc Broussard concert that I’d bought him tickets for when we were still together. I liked Marc Broussard, but I wasn’t sure how good of an idea this was going to be.

The concert was an hour away, so Austin wanted to stay the night—he said since I bought the tickets, he would pay for the hotel room. I told him to make sure he got a room with two beds.

He showed up at my apartment the afternoon of the concert. I came out of my bedroom, wearing a pale yellow sun dress and wedge sandals. He was standing there in jeans, some type of affliction crap t-shirt, and flip-flops.

“You didn’t have to dress up,” he said.

“Just tell me I look nice or shut the hell up,” I said.

This is when my hostility for Austin started setting in. Austin thought it was funny, but I was being serious. I drove us to Lafayette, where the concert was. We stopped at a nice restaurant for dinner.

Before we went inside, Austin threw a fit that the clock in my car wasn’t set to the right time. I told him I didn’t know how to set it, so he needed to get over it. He figured out how to set it, but he needed an extra set of hands. So I helped.

“See what happens when we work together?” he said.

I went into the restaurant. Throughout the dinner, he kept asking me why I hated him so much. I told him he was an asshole. When the check arrived, the waitress put it in front of Austin.

“See? Why do the waiters assume the guy is paying?” he asked.

“Because you are paying.”

We walked to the concert venue, and waited in line for the doors to open. Austin was wearing a straw fedora that made him look like a colossal douche.

Inside, we proceeded to get sloppy drunk. I thought I’d reached my limit when Austin came back from the bar holding a double drink for me, with a huge grin spread across his face.

We made it back to the hotel. There was only one bed. I made do, put on actual pajamas, and made a wall of pillows between us.

My 21st birthday was in July. Around work, I heard rumors that Austin was trying to set up a surprise party for me. So, when he invited me to dinner one night, I was fairly certain it was going to be a party.

I got ready and drove to his place. Where there was no party. He really was taking me to dinner. We went out for seafood. It was a nice dinner, and he gave me a gift—an iTunes card.

Sweet.

A few days later, Sheena came to visit and take me to the bars at midnight on my birthday. That weekend, she met Austin when he came over to play a round of beer checkers.

Things with Austin were okay, but I was confused on where we stood. We hung out constantly, were sleeping together, but were not calling it exclusive. Red flags all around.

In late July, he finally came clean and told me he had no emotional attachment to our relationship; it was purely physical. He reminded me that we were not dating, and he didn’t understand why I wanted a boyfriend in the first place.

We were laying in his bed, late one night, after just having sex. I was getting comfortable on my side of the bed, when he said it:

“Wow, I regret that.”

I got up and starting getting dressed, yelling louder and louder with each article of clothing. What kind of asshole says they regret the sex they just had, to the person they just had sex with? I left in the middle of the night, I didn’t care how psycho it looked to his roommate.

I felt so insecure.

All along I felt like Austin was the one who still liked me and that I was in control. But in reality, I had been falling for him harder than I did the first time. I still wasn’t sure if given the chance if I would get back with him, but  my feelings for him were strong.

Austin told me the only way to get rid of my feelings for him would be to stop talking to him altogether. I knew he was right, but didn’t want to write him off like I had so many others.

For whatever reason, I was still so happy to have him as a part of my life, even though he’d hurt me multiple times.

On the other hand, I was starting to realize just how selfish Austin was. Even throughout the course of our “friendship,” he was very controlling, questioning my whereabouts when I wouldn’t answer his calls or messages. But I was about to see just how controlling he could be.

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