Okay. This is me blogging.
This is me blogging very carefully while listening to the Goofy Movie Soundtrack because I’ve been listening to “Stand Out” since I was literally six years-old and dancing on top of dining room tables because I felt like I understood the words on a deep soul level.
Why am I blogging carefully, you ask? And not carefully enough not to tell the world that I feel the Goofy Movie Soundtrack on a soul level?
Because I have good news. I have good news that’s actually dream news.
And I can’t *(#$)*ing tell anyone. Not on here, anyway. Social media and I can flirt but we can’t go all the way. That was a bad metaphor. Whatever.
I WANT TO SCREAM IT FROM THE MOUNTAINTOPS BUT I MUST REFRAIN.
So, I have two options. I can just not blog for several months until I can plaster said exciting thing all over social media, or I can blog like this, kind of dancing around it, like it’s a cake for a birthday party on the counter and I want to stick my fingers in it but I CANNOT.
Anyway. I am going to do the second one. The cake dancing one.
I’ve got a lot going on, lately. I’m 18 weeks pregnant this week, and this little one is kicking up a storm. And I have to write some stuff. Some exciting new stuff. And yesterday, I was driving and “Stand Out” popped up on my iTunes. Yes, it’s the song Max lip-syncs in the beginning of The Goofy Movie.
If you’ve never heard it, YouTube it and laugh at me. If you have heard it, then you know what I’m talking about. If you love it and have been embarrassed to admit it until this point, I know ya feel me.
It’s a crank-it-up-and-stare-down-the-world song. It’s cheesy as hell and I won’t apologize for it.
I listened to it in high school, when I was nervous about applying to college.
I listened to it at the gym in college, when I was on a quest to get as fit as I could get. (Result: I got very fit.
Other Result: I was pretty obnoxious about it and walked around my dorm half-naked 24/7.
End Result: My Tae-bo/Rice Cake phase lasted exactly long enough for me to discover the bakery in Heidelberg. I realized I liked being fed more than I liked abs and now I approach fitness in a healthy manner.)
There was just something about it, especially the bridge:
All I need is half a chance,
A second thought, a second glance
To prove I’ve got whatever it takes
Cheesy? Told you. Did it speak to my ambitious little heart? Yes.
One of my favorite movies to watch is Pursuit of Happyness, because I love watching him triumph. A couple of nights ago, we watched Joy for the first time. And I realized – I remembered – chasing your dreams is exhausting.
There are times when you hear ‘no’ so often that you don’t want to crank up a song and dance around singing about how you know you’re going to make it.
Because, honestly, you don’t know if you’re going to make it. You don’t know if you’re going to have a moment where you’re on the Home Shopping Network selling thousands of your inventions. You don’t know if you’re going to be offered the job at the end of the grueling internship. For every success, there are a thousand stories that end with someone in their mid-forties who gave up, is unemployed, and now has to pull their teeth out with pliers because they can’t afford dental insurance.
And you don’t know which one it’s going to be. You don’t know what category you’re going to fall into.
The past couple years have been really hard. We lived in my parents’ kitchen for eight months while I tried and failed for almost half a year to find a job. I wrote late into the night and early in the morning, praying that something would come of it but knowing I had a very slim chance of making it.
In those moments, you don’t know if listening to a song about standing out is wishful thinking or proper motivation.
This year… this year, everything has changed. This year, the hope I’ve (read: Ross) kept alive when it was just embers under rotting floorboards has finally caught and yielded warmth.
So when “Stand Out” came on yesterday, I was a little startled. I hadn’t heard it since all the awesome craziness started a couple months ago. But then… then I cranked it as loud as it could go and sang along with such gusto that I was getting strange looks from other drivers.
I’m so thankful that God gave me the little voice, the little pull in my gut that wouldn’t let me give up. I’m so grateful He gave me a husband who helped drag me out of bed at 5am, put coffee in my hands, and told me my stories were worth writing. I’m so glad He gave me friends that have been with me through this whole crazy thing.
So. If I’m cryptic for the foreseeable future, I’m sorry. I’ll be over-the-top excited the moment I’m able to be.
I just wanted to pop in and remind anyone who may read this to not give up. Redouble your efforts. Wake up early. (Insert all the motivational phrases).
But most of all?
Listen to that cheesy song and own it. Don’t ever tell yourself if doesn’t apply to you.
Go kick some ass, even if you get yours kicked in the process.
It might take five years, four novels, two graduate degrees, eight months in your parents’ kitchen, and one false start… but it’s worth it.