Blissful Ignorance

Is ignorance really bliss?

Yes. End of blog.

Seriously though… is it? The righteous, ever curious side of me shouts “Of course not!” Always gather as much information as you possibly can to make well informed decisions. Intense recon (for me that means “googling” and/or asking my Daddy) is critical! If you don’t, you’ll end up looking like a fool and oh my gosh I hate that.

BUT, sometimes you are joyfully trotting along (dare I say… blissfully trotting along) when you encounter information that brings your whistling peppy step to an abrupt halt leaving you falling flat on your happy little face. You pick yourself up and try to merrily continue, but your step has lost its pep and your whistle sounds more like a funeral hymn. You speak differently, you act differently, and you even think differently. Ignorance is sounding pretty darn good right about now...

The problem is, unknowing something is not an option just as unsaying something is not an option. In real life there are no “backsies,” eternal sunshine of the spotless mind or that handy little blinky tool from “Men in Black.” Once it hits your ears, your brilliant mind is already getting to work decoding that information to let you know how you should respond, how you should act, how you should feel… Ooh so wise, right? So now knowing this information, all you have to do is be completely careful and intentional of what you say and do (and pray everyone else in your life is too) and just accurately convey exactly what you mean all the time… Easy, right?

Of course not.

Because we all make mistakes. A LOT of mistakes. Sometimes intentionally, sometimes not, sometimes they’re big mistakes, sometimes they’re small ones. Sometimes we say and do things that hurt people, even (or especially) the people we care about the most, and sometimes we hurt ourselves. Sometimes we know exactly what to do to fix it… Sometimes we don’t. Ignorance can certainly shelter us from a lot of painful situations that life throws at us. So is there a point when ignorance is no longer an option? Yes…

When we know better.

Making mistakes is fine, it’s normal, it’s even human… But if we aren’t learning from our mistakes; if we are intentionally ignorant of the opportunity to grow and learn from the faulty choices we make, then we are choosing the path of a fool. And I don’t know about you, but I am foolish enough on accident without choosing to be one.

So… Is ignorance bliss? Eh, sometimes… but I’d much rather aim for bliss without the ignorant part.

Maleficent

I recently watched the movie “Maleficent” starring Angelina Jolie (Yes this came out months ago, and yes I voluntarily watched an Angelina Jolie movie). Although Angelina didn’t stray far from her “sexy, yet dangerous badass” role that she seems so typcastingly fond of, I must admit she did an exceptional job of conveying the multidimensional character of a traditionally known villain… One we thought we already knew.

Because “Sleeping Beauty” is my favorite Disney classic, I was naturally a skeptic of storyline modifications. The original is magical, comedic, and expresses a beautiful struggle where good overcomes evil through true love, and then happily ever after ensues… So why change something so beautifully perfect?

Because perfect isn’t real.

Maleficent is a straightforward evil bitch in the classic (hardly Disney friendly terminology, but I never claimed this was a PG blog), but in this modern adaptation we see why her life experiences lead her to the choices she makes, and the struggle she endures because of those choices.

We end up empathizing with Maleficent- the evil, intolerable, heartless villain… but is she really?

The Disney classics display the fight between good and evil, right and wrong… A world where life is black and white and a happy ending is just around the riverbend for those who choose good over evil.

And while these are attractive concepts that can perhaps be applied to very limited and specific life situations, we also know that this is simply not the way that life works.

Life is hard. Life is messy. And life delivers us people who are concurrently “good” and “bad” with situations that don’t necessarily lead to a happy ending even if you make the right choice.

And maybe sometimes there isn’t a right choice to be made. Maybe there are some choices you have to make just to open your eyes to the kind of person you have become or to strengthen the type of character you possess.

Maybe life was never meant to be perfect. And more importantly, maybe life was never meant to be lived seeking perfection.

Somewhere along the journey between the Disney ideals of childhood and my very different experiences of real life, I realized that the classic “black and white” Disney life scenario is actually a muddled spattering of grays that expand far beyond the Behr color wheel spectrum.

Dismay, chaos, confusion, disappointment, fear of the unknown, questioning life’s purpose and all kinds of other scary words and phrases emerge from this gray area…

BUT…

Flexibility, power of choice, hope, acknowledging blessings, giving and receiving compassion, empathizing with "villains" and all kinds of other wonderful words and phrases are also presented to us through this gray area.

AND… You still have millions more decisions left to make.

So… Choose well. And if you don’t, then choose better next time.

Not Enough Word Vomit

Not Enough

An unreal amount of conditioning gets pumped into our minds to believe we do not have enough. Umh… Not enough of what?

Well thank you for asking!

Not enough toys, not enough money, not enough hair, or enough makeup, or clothes, or electronics, or cars, or houses, or blah blah blah… Not enough!

And we are not only told that we need more, we’re told that we deserve more.

L’Oreal tells us it’s because “You’re worth it.” But worth what? Hair dye? ‘Cause let me tell you right now, you are worth much much more than Chestnut Medium Brown with conditioning rinse.

So what is it that we deserve more of?

Stuff. And also things.

The implication is that our worth is so great, we deserve to have a bunch of stuff and things that will emanate our worth to the world.

But wait… Is that what we want to emanate? Is that where our worth begins and ends? In the fact that we have the ability to accumulate a whole bunch of snarfblats and dinglehoppers? Well that sucks kinda, but also really a lot.

So… instead of emanating our worth in things, what if we tried to emanate our worth with who we are?

Oooh… that’s scary though. Like, really scary.

And not only because there are parts of myself I don’t like, but also because I’m still trying to figure out who I am and what I want to be. Yikes! Emanate… the real me?

I definitely don’t know a lot, but I do know this: God gave each and every person on this planet worth to do and be something great. Greater than all the things and stuff that you can put into your 100,000 square foot home, and greater than all the feelings and emotions of inferiority that we experience for not having the things and the stuff.

So this is good news! Because we already have innate worth… And now it’s time for you to start believing it by emanating the compassionate, hopeful, loving, mistake making, forgiving, persistent, humbling, challenging, loyal, open minded, funny, caring person you are.

Timing

Few things in life are more annoying than being told “It just wasn’t the right timing, but when the timing is right everything will work out…” Any variation of that statement causes a cringe-like response in my otherwise decent posture… Because Ugh…  Just Ugh…

Timing. Frickin’ timing. Something we have absolutely no control over, but something that controls us absolutely.

Now don’t get me wrong, the infuriating sentence above is certainly sage advice and probably emits from a completely sincere, good hearted source (Like your friend “Emily” or “Suzy” who is uncannily optimistic and effervescent 100% of the time and who consistently wears pastels brighter than Easter eggs- You know who I mean) … I just wish the need for these statements to be spoken to me was a little less frequent.

The problem is, my mind has a superb talent of finding a way to warp these good hearted words of encouragement into curses of utter despair (Because Emily and Suzy also happen to lead perfect lives with butterflies that flutter around their faces- So what do they know about timing?). At this time I find myself reverting to my inner childlike tantrum state of exclaiming, “BUT IT’S NOT FAIR!”

And that inner child, while certainly belligerent and hysterical, is not wrong. Timing sometimes is just NOT FAIR. So what do I do? Do I handle bad timing like a mature adult with grace, patience, and understanding?

Eh… Sometimes.

But if we’re being honest about this (which I think is the point of this blog), more often than not, I complain. Then I feel discouraged and upset, and then I probably complain some more because Oh Holy Night, timing sometimes blows…

But… Okay, but then again… timing doesn’t always blow… Does it? Hmm…

Because there was that time I was running late to class and found $20 in the parking lot… Or that other time when I drove to my sister’s house and walked in the door to witness my niece take her first step… Or when I rented a car from Thrifty and it happened to be their company anniversary so I won a free Ipod shuffle… Ha! Or that time in Europe when I decided to… Umh, actually, let’s skip that story, you get the point.

Timing can also be hilarious, inspiring, heartfelt, loving, breathtaking, genuine, and wonderful.

So… What have I learned about timing? Simply that it is not worth my time or energy to try to alter or control. And let me tell you, for something so not possible, it’s ridiculous how much time I’ve spent on it.

And with that knowledge, I am slowly (oh so slowly) learning to let go of the tightly grasped life I planned for me to embrace the amazing life God desperately desires to give me…  All in His perfect timing.

Politics Word Vomit

Politics

Uh oh. With a title like that, an intense debate is around the corner, right? Easy with the gloves, Holyfield, give me a few paragraphs before you start swinging…

Most people within earshot of this word have a visceral reaction to it. I suppose on occasion positive connotations may be associated (Although cuddly fuzzy pink bears and unicorns jumping over rainbows are rarely linked), but majority of the time a physical shudder, cringe, or acid dripping facial scrunch ensues after hearing this simple three syllable word.

Why? Because when politics are involved situations get “dicey,” and conversations have a tendency to crescendo into passionately opinionated verbal warfare. Simply put… It can get really, really ugly.

The thing is, politics are about our quality of life, how we are governed as a people, and how we live as a society; it makes complete sense to get fiery about these topics which can and do affect our daily life. Many of the political decisions today will determine the type of world our children and children’s children experience… so shouldn’t we get passionately stirred up about that?

I not only support people cultivating their own opinions (yes, even if they are different than my own), I 100% encourage it. And if you know me well, you understand that I have absolutely no problem engaging in challenging conversations… Am I always right? Oh absolutely not. Do I always respond in the appropriate way? Unfortunately that’s a big fat “no” once again… but I’m working on it.

Because what I’ve seen as the most disturbing part of these political arguments, is the manner in which opinions and viewpoints are conveyed versus the actual issues themselves. Personal attacks on another person do little to promote your viewpoint on an issue. And quite frankly, in my opinion, they do very little to promote you. Your agenda is now tainted in my eyes.

‘Cause if we’re having a conversation about pollution in water streams, but then I feel like I need to defend the unrighteous name calling of my mother… well, that definitely confuses things, and causes a distraction from the original argument. I will look into it, but I’m pretty sure my mother has nothing to do with the polluting of endangered fish swimming waters.

Oftentimes watching political debates makes me sad. Sad that we have not figured out how to speak to each other with human decency after all this time. Sad that we cannot respect another person’s opinion unless it is the same as our own. And very sad that there are people in important, powerful positions in our society who are using their power to bully and insult rather than promote their political agenda or political position (which was the point of being involved in politics to begin with, right? Was it?).

And believe me, I am not innocent of slinging out personal offenses that have nothing to do with the conversation. Sometimes my words are purely declared out of anger and attack mode, and I am NOT proud of that. But thank God I have started to realize this more and more, and have begun to catch myself (sometimes after, but hopefully before) when reaching juvenile behavior.

I realize I may be living in a fantasy world with this request… but seriously… Can’t we all just get along? And if not, say your piece, then shut it when you feel like you’re starting to spiral down into immature-ville. No? Too mean?

Anyway, that’s my opinion. And you are welcome to disagree… Nicely.

Rebranding

Sometimes my mood can get the best of me. And sometimes my mood isn’t the best. So in an effort to include more positivity in my life, and get back to the optimistic Aulani that once was (granted optimistic Aulani was just a few steps away from completely naïve Aulani, but we’re still giving this a shot so bear with me), I have decided to do “rebranding” in my life. It goes something like this…

“Oh hi there old man driving the Crown Vic who decided to switch lanes without looking. That was an impressive (see what I did there?) move. Yes. Impressive.”

Or…

“That comment was hurtful. So I’m going to go ahead and chalk that up to you not thinking before you spoke, but not actually intending to make me feel bad. I am rebranding you as “unaware” instead of “intentionally spiteful.”

Alright, so sometimes my “rebranding” sounds remarkably similar to sarcasm and naivety… but right now, I think that’s what I need to do to remain optimistic. Intentionally oblivious? Maybe. Effective? Absolutely. Here’s what I mean…

As much as I love people and wholeheartedly admit that my quality of life is significantly raised because of specific humans that are in my life, all people are flawed. Now I realize this is not a shocking discovery. We all know this because we have experienced it… and most notably for me, I have experienced it in myself. I am acutely aware of my own BIG, FAT, EMBARRASING flaws. And although some are dainty and harmless... quite a few others are deep, dark and ominous.

But as much as I am 100% broken and flawed, I am also 100% lovable. I know this, because God said so (and also it would be incredibly devastating to not believe so). So. If I, completely clumsy, deeply flawed, mistake making me, am 100% lovable than I KNOW every human on this planet is also 100% lovable. And if I expect to be loved despite my flaws, shouldn’t I at least afford a similar courtesy to others? (P.S. I have rebranded “flaw” as “opportunity to improve”)

But this is a lot harder than it sounds. Like, A LOT. And that is why I am choosing to rebrand situations in an effort to give the benefit of the doubt to the flawed, broken, lovable people that I encounter.

And it’s actually become kind of fun. I giggle to myself at the kind of rebranding statements I can slap onto seemingly disturbing, downward spiraling situations. Although some rebrands are more challenging than others, spending my efforts trying to creatively infuse positivity into a situation are much better efforts spent than being angry, frustrated, spiteful, scornful, and other ugly words that I would like to eliminate from my life.

Well there it is. I originally hesitated on sharing this information with family and friends because now I will have accountability for my fun little rebranding activity, and Aulani doesn’t always like accountability (even though Aulani desperately needs it). Note: Subtleties are appreciated if at all possible.

So help me out with “Project Infuse Positivity” and I give you full permission to adapt my rebranding technique. This world could definitely use all the positivity we can muster, so why not spend our energies cultivating a more lovable world for the beautifully flawed people who live in it?

Neighbor

So here’s what I’ve learned about my neighbor… he likes playstation (X-box?) war games (or at least games involving the constant shooting of things), he gets very angry during said war games (“We’re on the same team bro!” Profanity, profanity…), he likes to watch shows which relate to police and/or police brutality, he will only play/watch said activities (yes, I am using the word “activity” very generously here) with the sound cranked to maximum volume usually between the hours of 6am and midnight (but not necessarily so), and he likes for his Mom to make him turkey sandwiches on a regular basis... I basically live next door to Will Ferrell’s character from Wedding Crashers, minus the meatloaf… actually, I can’t be sure about that, it would be safer to bet that his Mom’s meatloaf is a part of his near future if it’s not already incorporated into his turkey sandwich and soda diet.

I wish I had a punchy “just kidding” line here, or that this was the beginning of a metaphor for something profound, or even that I’m exaggerating to some degree, but nope. Not the case.

And while his daily schedule provides consistent amusement for me and my houseguests, I can’t help but be a little bit saddened by his life choices… but why? I have never actually met him, and have no connection to him outside of our incommunicative neighborly relationship… So why do I feel this twinge of guilt/sadness connected to his daily life choices?

Possibly because I was ingrained to believe that all humans have a greater purpose (Mom and Dad- Your strong teachings of morality and ethics strike again!). And while I’ve certainly made questionable decisions in life, stumbled and fell flat on my face (metaphorically and literally) in some (okay, most) of my decisions, the possibility of not contributing was never an option for me. And I’m really, really grateful for that.

Because life isn’t easy. It’s confusing, truth is elusive, people are difficult, emotions are misleading and decisions are tricky… and the fact that God still gives us the ability of choice is beyond me. But at this point, I wouldn’t trade my life journey for a redo, even though I imagine my path through life resembling a puppy on linoleum to those looking on from heaven. But as much as I’m slipping and sliding, I’m making little bits of progress… and I’m not exactly having a terrible time along the way J

Extremes

Do you ever wonder how you ended up in your exact location at a specific moment in time? ‘Cause I do all the time. I think about what decisions I made to lead me up to that precise moment.

Sometimes the thought goes like this, “Wow this is awesome! Great job past Aulani for making such fantastic decisions!”

And sometimes the thought goes like this, “Umh… so exactly what did you do to get here, my dear? I think you were supposed to go right back there, but you decided taking a left down the unsanitary back alley that smells like urine was a better idea. Sure, go ahead and blame Siri. You know the truth.”

Lately I feel like I’ve been oscillating back and forth between these extremes. No matter how hard I try to dig my heels into normal territory, I somehow end up on an opposite end of the spectrum trying to figure out how I got there.

In the first scenario, I try to figure out how to stay put. In the second scenario, I try to figure out how to get the eff out. And it always makes me question… Is this right? Did I miss the boat of normalcy back in my twenties, so now I am destined to meander the streets of bizarre for the rest of my days? ‘Cause I’m not even a year into thirty, and already I’m wondering what hell is going on up in here.

As a kid I remember thinking that adults had everything figured out. Okay maybe not all of them, but the ones I knew definitely did (Ha!). It wasn’t even a thought so much as I never questioned that they had all the answers. An equally diluted subliminal thought was that when I grew up, I would have the answers too.  Sure I rebelled, and did the whole rambunctious teenage girl thing (God bless you Mom and Dad), but I still thought it was all part of a process leading up to a euphoric understanding of life. And just like I was completely wrong about that as a kid, I continue to be completely wrong about a lot of things as an adult.

And then somewhere deep in my confusion and completely off base (I hope) crazy cat lady grown up Aulani scenarios (dear God, I hope not), God reminds me that it’s okay. And it sounds something like this, “Whoa, little one, chill out. You’re fine. I’m still working on you and with you, and everything is going to be just fine. Trust me.” Oh. Okay.

Because everyone makes some bad decisions. Even (or especially?) those adults I thought had it all figured out when I was a kid. So what’s the silver lining?

I have no idea.

Right now I’m just trying not to turn each of my bad decisions into a habit because goodness gracious that is pretty darn easy for me to do. That, and daily recognizing that I am an incredibly blessed person with people in my life that understand me, forgive me, pray for me, hope for me, and unconditionally love me… And I bet if you think about it, you are too.

Pink Moped

Sooooo I bought a moped. It’s pink. I like it… My Mom thinks I’m going to kill myself on it.

I mean, she’s not necessarily wrong. I can’t even get through a kickball game without a swollen knee and gravel stuck in places I won’t mention to you. But I have learned to embrace the klutziness that is me; my Mom has not, but from a very concerned and adorable motherly standpoint, of course.

It’s an interesting thing, these parents we have. I am not a parent myself so I am still completely baffled at why they still do things for me and continue to love me after the unbelievable amount of crap and ridiculousness that is me and my life. And yes, I say that present tense. Not because I intentionally try to screw with them, but inevitably I will do something really stupid and they never hesitate to help me pick up what I knocked down… which is sometimes me. No doubt I hit the jackpot when it came to parents…  and yet I am still a giant yardsale.

So what would I be like if I had a different set of parents?

I think every child has thought this at one moment or another. Sometimes it’s because you are incredibly grateful for the ones you have, sometimes it’s because you wish you had different ones, and sometimes it’s because you see other parents and try to envision how you would have turned out if they had parented you.

And we can’t choose. We’re just given what we got and vice versa. And that can be incredibly frustrating (especially for the teenage girl I once was) considering we are beings used to choice. We are ingrained with the idea that we are not only allowed to make our own choices but we have the undeniable right to make our own choices. Sometimes I wholeheartedly support my right to choice. But looking back, sometimes I’m stoked on the fact that I had parents who made the right choices for me.

But the thought scenario goes something like this…

“ If my parents were super rich and summered in the Hamptons, I would be happier and more fulfilled and married to the CEO of Gerber (for those of you who know me well- catch that reference?).”

False. I would be a giant high society type brat. Why? Because I’m still a brat, I’m just a grounded brat because of my parents. Imagine if my brattiness was amplified by wealth. Eek. I even cringe at that thought.

There are of course a million different parent scenarios of which I can and have entertained but they all lead me back to the fact that I am unbelievably lucky to have grown up in the exact way that I did, raised by my two lovable, generous, passionate, silly, mistake making, genuinely concerned, hard working, edifying parents.

Considering all the contributions these two have given to me, instilled in me, and subliminally passed to me… I have a difficult time envisioning I would be anything like myself today without them. And that makes me sad… Even though I am a yardsale.

Sometimes I just need a burger and a beer Word Vomit

So I’ve been trying to eat healthier lately. I realize that sentence is probably not the expected lead off based on the title of this blog. But I actually did good for a little while! There was some kale, and some sprouts of sorts, SPINACH salads, tabbouleh, real fruit things and a limited amount of sugary “fruit flavored” things. And then, a couple days later, I decided I deserved a burger. A big one. With fries and a big fat beer.

That made me very happy.

Some people are very good at the “eating healthy all the time” thing that I find utterly exhausting. I have a friend who eats dates and sliced cucumbers for her snack. I have quite a different idea of what a snack should entail, and none of them include gigantic wannabe raisins or vegetables made up mostly of water.

In fact, I struggle with the concept of making the right choices A LOT.

Because it’s really hard. And the right decision is rarely the most appealing or easiest decision. But can you imagine if struggling was not a part of our lives at all? If the right choices in our lives were the easy ones? “Okay, Adam Levine, just calm down! I suppose I could marry you and travel around on your private yacht through the Mediterranean… just chill out okay?”

We would all be selfish, spoiled brats. And it would be a very sick, sad world (Daria reference… anyone?).

Moral compasses, as boring and restricting as they may seem on the surface, are good. And I have been trying (really really hard lately) to use mine to point me in the right direction. I have no idea where that direction will lead me, but I’m trusting that God does and attempting to let go of the needing to know everything part (I said attempting). Sometimes I am a rockstar at it, and sometimes I hit every sand trap on the course. But looking back, I have no doubt that my character and personality was absolutely shaped and deeply affected during times of struggle. And I kinda like me.

There’s a lot of really tough life decisions out there. Sometimes I make the right ones, and sometimes I make the wrong ones. Sometimes they’re really really tough, and sometimes they’re just quasi tough. Sometimes I need to suck in my pride, and ask others for help. And sometimes I just need a burger and a beer.

Tough Times Word Vomit- "My Messy Beautiful"

I was recently told about the "Messy, Beautiful" Warriors Project, and am in complete awe of the vulnerability, intelligence, and beautifully written stories I've read. I figured I would make an attempt at contributing to this inspiring project through an incredibly brilliant woman who deserves the exposure. This is for you, Glennon! http://momastery.com/carry-on-warrior/

My very wise and bloggingly credible sister has encouraged me to start writing. It's therapeutic, cathartic, and has the slight chance of making me a millionaire who travels around the world with my boyfriend, Adam Levine, while he sings and I give inspiring speeches and then we have dinner with Kristen Bell (I LOVE her... I might as well mention her now as she will come up often) and Dax Shepard on a sailboat in the Caribbean. So why not? I'm also trying to get more into this sharing things thing that people do. I'm real bad at it, and I'm hoping this will help. And while I cannot promise the sincerity, wit or overall awesomeness of my sister's blog, I hope to bring a smile or a chuckle your way. So with no further ado, I bring to you: Aulani's word vomit.

Tough Times Word Vomit- Messy, Beautiful

I wasn't sure if this topic was a great jumping off point for a new blog, but I figured an intro spilling the beans about my Veronica Mars obsession probably leaves the door wide open for those who actually decide to continue reading. So... thank you. For continuing to read.

Truth is, I've been having a hard time lately. A lot harder than I remember having before anyway. Because life is freaking tough. And sometimes it sucks. And sometimes the people in it suck. But I think the biggest reason I've been having a tough time is the fact that I have no idea what I'm doing. Seriously. No clue. Nada. A`ohe (This means "none" in Hawaiian- Sidenote: I am Hawaiian. You'll hear more on this later). I've changed careers a handful (and footful) amount of times, I am not in any relationship which leads to the MRS degree, and I really never had a super big passionate goal (besides becoming as smart and snarky as Veronica Mars, or sitting on Adam Levine's lap during his private performance to me). But recently, thanks to the lovely waitress at Dave and Busters ("Wow! You're 30?! Like... 30 years old?! You definitely don't look that old!"), I was reminded I am 30. Which, despite her best efforts, doesn't actually make me feel very old. In fact, I feel somewhat young hearing the number "30." And considering I've traveled to over 20 countries, have a bachelors degree and masters degree, skydived, bungee jumped, rope swinged, loved wholeheartedly, taken big risks, made stupid mistakes, learned from said stupid mistakes, grown up, etc. etc., Well, that's not bad for 30, right?

The sad thing is, I don't give myself credit when the tough times hit. Something doesn't go according to plan, and suddenly nothing has been according to plan. But that's not true. That's actually silly. It definitely doesn't change the fact that I'm clueless, but it does change the idea that I can't do anything worthwhile during my times of cluelessness. I've been clueless my whole life, and look at how many things I've gotten to do!

I'm trying to get my footing, and trying to figure out what it is that I'm supposed to do out here in this big, big world. I may never have a solid idea of what it is that I'm supposed to do on this earth, but God sure does show me some good times while I'm on it. Tough times hit. And sometimes they hit over and over again. But the tough times I'm facing can't take away the good times I've had... or the ones that lay ahead...

Now here's my pitch to check out Glennon's new book: My very wise and bloggingly credible sister has encouraged me to start writing. It's therapeutic, cathartic, and has the slight chance of making me a millionaire who travels around the world with my boyfriend, Adam Levine, while he sings and I give inspiring speeches and then we have dinner with Kristen Bell (I LOVE her... I might as well mention her now as she will come up often) and Dax Shepard on a sailboat in the Caribbean. So why not? I'm also trying to get more into this sharing things thing that people do. I'm real bad at it, and I'm hoping this will help. And while I cannot promise the sincerity, wit or overall awesomeness of my sister's blog, I hope to bring a smile or a chuckle your way. So with no further ado, I bring to you: Aulani's word vomit.

Tough Times Word Vomit

I wasn't sure if this topic was a great jumping off point for a new blog, but I figured an intro spilling the beans about my Veronica Mars obsession probably leaves the door wide open for those who actually decide to continue reading. So... thank you. For continuing to read.

Truth is, I've been having a hard time lately. A lot harder than I remember having before anyway. Because life is freaking tough. And sometimes it sucks. And sometimes the people in it suck. But I think the biggest reason I've been having a tough time is the fact that I have no idea what I'm doing. Seriously. No clue. Nada. A`ohe (This means "none" in Hawaiian- Sidenote: I am Hawaiian. You'll hear more on this later). I've changed careers a handful (and footful) amount of times, I am not in any relationship which leads to the MRS degree, and I really never had a super big passionate goal (besides becoming as smart and snarky as Veronica Mars, or sitting on Adam Levine's lap during his private performance to me). But recently, thanks to the lovely waitress at Dave and Busters ("Wow! You're 30?! Like... 30 years old?! You definitely don't look that old!"), I was reminded I am 30. Which, despite her best efforts, doesn't actually make me feel very old. In fact, I feel somewhat young hearing the number "30." And considering I've traveled to over 20 countries, have a bachelors degree and masters degree, skydived, bungee jumped, rope swinged, loved wholeheartedly, taken big risks, made stupid mistakes, learned from said stupid mistakes, grown up, etc. etc., Well, that's not bad for 30, right?

The sad thing is, I don't give myself credit when the tough times hit. Something doesn't go according to plan, and suddenly nothing has been according to plan. But that's not true. That's actually silly. It definitely doesn't change the fact that I'm clueless, but it does change the idea that I can't do anything worthwhile during my times of cluelessness. I've been clueless my whole life, and look at how many things I've gotten to do!

I'm trying to get my footing, and trying to figure out what it is that I'm supposed to do out here in this big, big world. I may never have a solid idea of what it is that I'm supposed to do on this earth, but God sure does show me some good times while I'm on it. Tough times hit. And sometimes they hit over and over again. But the tough times I'm facing can't take away the good times I've had... or the ones that lay ahead...

Now here's my plug.... Check out "Messy, Beautiful" Warriors and find encouragement from people who may not know you, but can relate to what you're going through:

My first ever blog: Tough Times Word Vomit

My very wise and bloggingly credible sister has encouraged me to start writing. It's therapeutic, cathartic, and has the slight chance of making me a millionaire who travels around the world with my boyfriend, Adam Levine, while he sings and I give inspiring speeches and then we have dinner with Kristen Bell (I LOVE her... I might as well mention her now as she will come up often) and Dax Shepard on a sailboat in the Caribbean. So why not? I'm also trying to get more into this sharing things thing that people do. I'm real bad at it, and I'm hoping this will help. And while I cannot promise the sincerity, wit or overall awesomeness of my sister's blog, I hope to bring a smile or a chuckle your way. So with no further ado, I bring to you: Aulani's word vomit.

Tough Times Word Vomit

I wasn't sure if this topic was a great jumping off point for a new blog, but I figured an intro spilling the beans about my Veronica Mars obsession probably leaves the door wide open for those who actually decide to continue reading. So... thank you. For continuing to read.

Truth is, I've been having a hard time lately. A lot harder than I remember having before anyway. Because life is freaking tough. And sometimes it sucks. And sometimes the people in it suck. But I think the biggest reason I've been having a tough time is the fact that I have no idea what I'm doing. Seriously. No clue. Nada. A`ohe (This means "none" in Hawaiian- Sidenote: I am Hawaiian. You'll hear more on this later). I've changed careers a handful (and footful) amount of times, I am not in any relationship which leads to the MRS degree, and I really never had a super big passionate goal (besides becoming as smart and snarky as Veronica Mars, or sitting on Adam Levine's lap during his private performance to me). But recently, thanks to the lovely waitress at Dave and Busters ("Wow! You're 30?! Like... 30 years old?! You definitely don't look that old!"), I was reminded I am 30. Which, despite her best efforts, doesn't actually make me feel very old. In fact, I feel somewhat young hearing the number "30." And considering I've traveled to over 20 countries, have a bachelors degree and masters degree, skydived, bungee jumped, rope swinged, loved wholeheartedly, taken big risks, made stupid mistakes, learned from said stupid mistakes, grown up, etc. etc., Well, that's not bad for 30, right?

The sad thing is, I don't give myself credit when the tough times hit. Something doesn't go according to plan, and suddenly nothing has been according to plan. But that's not true. That's actually silly. It definitely doesn't change the fact that I'm clueless, but it does change the idea that I can't do anything worthwhile during my times of cluelessness. I've been clueless my whole life, and look at how many things I've gotten to do!

I'm trying to get my footing, and trying to figure out what it is that I'm supposed to do out here in this big, big world. I may never have a solid idea of what it is that I'm supposed to do on this earth, but God sure does show me some good times while I'm on it. Tough times hit. And sometimes they hit over and over again. But the tough times I'm facing can't take away the good times I've had... or the ones that lay ahead...