10 Emotional Stages of Anyone Who’s Ever Had to Move

Congratulations! You’re moving into a brand new home. Let the decorating ideas begin. If you can survive the move first.

Stage 1: Inspiration 

Before you start your move, of course you’ll be inspired about your new home. Spiral into a Pinterest-induced decorating fantasy. Get lost in Yelp reviews while you cross-check Grubhub delivery options for your new digs. Enjoy the calm before the storm.
 

Stage 2: Purge

You’ve got to make room for all the new belongings you plan to acquire for your new space. Applaud yourself for embracing a minimalist mindset on par with the Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up way of life.

Stage 3: Denial

Acquire a laughably inadequate number of “fancy” boxes for what you believe will suffice to pack your belongings. Later you will transport remaining objects in laundry baskets and garbage bags.
Mani O'Brien

Mani O'Brien

Storyteller and Virgo

LA-based social media marketer and brand journalist Mani O’Brien spends her downtime raising a small human and ranting on this blog. Here you’ll find frequent cursing, a self-indulgent analysis of her 30-something existence as a wife, mother, Millennial, digital marketer and astrology-obsessed feminist.

It's not too late to burn it all down.

Stage 4: Seduction

Convince your friends to help you with the task at hand with the promise of beers and pizza. Because testing the limits of your friendship requires a good meal.

Stage 5: Hunting

Curse yourself for not splurging on extra packing tape dispensers and Sharpie markers as you search high and low for your misplaced packing essentials.

Stage 6: Exasperation 

Let the arguing begin between you and your roommate/significant other/children/friends regarding how to pack/move/protect key belongings and which items to keep/toss. Insist that you know the best way to do everything.

Stage 7: Grief

Suddenly regret everything you’ve ever saved or purchased and your decision to not renew your lease. Realize that it’s too late to turn back. Use your hot, salty tears to scrub your bathtub.

Stage 8: Bargaining

Consider burning all remaining belongings and abandoning your conventional life. Google “How to live as a Buddhist monk” to determine viability of giving up all of your material belongings.
 

Stage 9: Acceptance

Suck it up and power through the transport of your remaining assets. Or, spend an obscene amount of money on moving and cleaning crews to help you put an end to the torment. Either way, swear to never again move for as long as you live.

Stage 10: Apologies

Mend relationships with a house-warming party. Swiftly forget the pain of moving until your next lease deadline.

 

All images courtesy of Giphy

More Stories

Second Glance

With all of the distractions that we face every single moment of these overly informed, visually over-saturated, social media/Internet-driven modern day lives, it’s hard to stay focused.

When it comes to creation of any kind– whether it’s art/writing/design/fashion/music…  I think a good rule of thumb is to attempt to make it worth the second read, a second glance, a second visit, a second listen– worth a second second in a world in which time is everything.

Personally, this theory translates to my everyday life decisions. Don’t do anything that’s just not worth your precious seconds. Here’s to staying true to yourself, and to having integrity in everything you do.

“Be daring, be different, be impractical, be anything that will assert integrity of purpose and imaginative vision against the play-it-safers, the creatures of the commonplace, the slaves of the ordinary.” -Cecil Beaton

Image via: Tang Yau Hoong

read more

Another Year, Another Fucking Blog

I’ll admit that I’m a failed blogger. And yet I can’t help to do it, so here we are. I don’t know how in my 33 years of living (especially during the 17 of which was under the roof of my late-poet-father) I’ve never heard this quote by William Faulkner until recently – “If a story is in you it has to come out.”

The phrase sums up the reason I’m here, typing this. Writing literally haunts me. Call it compulsive or whatever. I’ve journaled consistently since I was eight years old and writing to me is the equivalent to my coffee or alcohol consumption. I suppose I could live without writing, but it would take a convulsive detoxing process. Just kidding about the alcohol thing (I think). The point is, I can’t help but write. It’s a bit of a curse, really.

read more

Another Year, Another Fucking Blog

"If a story is in you it has to come out." –William Faulkner

I’ll admit that I’m a failed blogger. And yet I can’t help to do it, so here we are. I don’t know how in my 33 years of living (especially during the 17 of which was under the roof of my late-poet-father) I’ve never heard this quote by William Faulkner until recently – “If a story is in you it has to come out.” 

The phrase sums up the reason I’m here, typing this. Writing literally haunts me. Call it compulsive or whatever. I’ve journaled consistently since I was eight years old and writing to me is the equivalent to my coffee or alcohol consumption. I suppose I could live without writing, but it would take a convulsive detoxing process. Just kidding about the alcohol thing (I think). The point is, I can’t help but write. It’s a bit of a curse, really.

Being an over-analytical, self-conscious Virgo keeps me from sharing my writing in a more confident, consistent and public way. But being a digital marketer, constantly absorbed in the abundance of glamorous foodie/fashion/travel blogs keeps me constantly inspired (and admittedly, jealous) that so many people have found the courage within themselves to tell their stories So– (why the fuck not?)… here’s mine.

I’m an LA-based social media marketer and brand journalist who was born in West Virginia (living as a child in a place called The Holler– seriously) and raised in Phoenix (where my aforementioned late-father used to describe as “the God-forsaken hole that even the Devil himself wouldn’t venture.”). I’m the oldest of three and we grew up very poor – I mean, poorer than you’re probably thinking. Which makes me feel that hardcore Imposter Syndrome that so many of us spoiled Millennial professionals can relate to. So I guess this is my rags-to-riches story. Just kidding. Well… kind of. I have to say, my life is more than I ever expected. So that feels weird and incredible and unfathomable and strangely shameful in a strange way. But more on that later.

This year I’ve started a new little venture – my website Social Media Republic, dedicated to social media resources for the fashion industry. So technically I’m launching two websites this year.

Ambitious, I know.

Especially since I’m still working full-time (in the marketing department of a leading west coast design college) and raising a small human that my Baby-Daddy and I call Mazy Olivia. To bunny trail…My daughter is three now and her name is Mason (so she has a better chance at being called by hiring managers in a couple decades from now. Seriously.) I gave her a super vanilla American name, which saddens me sometimes because I’m half-Korean, half-Irish with a Hindu-inspired name and actually really value my ethnic ambiguity. But my other half and I did give her a male name intentionally, which felt super rebellious until Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds went and named their daughter James. So now I guess we’re just part of a trend. Ugh. Such a stereotypically hippie-loving, kale-eating Angeleno thing to do. But, what can you do? But, I digress. The point is, I’m busy and could probably do without writing blog posts for two websites, but again– it’s my curse and compulsion to write.

Anyway, I am hoping that Social Media Republic is useful and amazing and I love being able to share my professional passions with others. But, you can’t say “fuck” on a professional website upon which I’m trying to convince my peers of my expertise, hence this site– yet another in a long string of failed blogging attempts.

Ugh, it’s so narcissistic to tell one’s story publicly, isn’t it? But I suppose what motivates me to share my story are the women who might be reading this. Those who are like I once was– young, scared, depressed and hopelessly wishing that their life will change. Mine has changed– and I’m actually, fairly, at least temporally happy. Well, maybe not happy, but satisfied which is even better. So I’m hoping this will be a space where I’ll try to talk about how I managed to escape dysfunction and poverty for a life that I sometimes think is an alternative universe that I’ve conjured up in a virtual reality game a few decades from now. (Think about it… this could really all be like a Matrix-situation, people).

I’d love for you to read my personal stories here, but either way I’ll be in my corner of the Internet, furiously writing away like the madwoman I can’t help but be. So welcome to my random musings– hopefully they are a value to you, if not anything except mildly amusing. And please follow my Instagram account @maniobrien because I spend a lot of time painfully curating my feed and I’ll follow you back if you tell me that you read my blog post.

 

 

More Stories

Second Glance

With all of the distractions that we face every single moment of these overly informed, visually over-saturated, social media/Internet-driven modern day lives, it’s hard to stay focused.

When it comes to creation of any kind– whether it’s art/writing/design/fashion/music…  I think a good rule of thumb is to attempt to make it worth the second read, a second glance, a second visit, a second listen– worth a second second in a world in which time is everything.

Personally, this theory translates to my everyday life decisions. Don’t do anything that’s just not worth your precious seconds. Here’s to staying true to yourself, and to having integrity in everything you do.

“Be daring, be different, be impractical, be anything that will assert integrity of purpose and imaginative vision against the play-it-safers, the creatures of the commonplace, the slaves of the ordinary.” -Cecil Beaton

Image via: Tang Yau Hoong

read more

Another Year, Another Fucking Blog

I’ll admit that I’m a failed blogger. And yet I can’t help to do it, so here we are. I don’t know how in my 33 years of living (especially during the 17 of which was under the roof of my late-poet-father) I’ve never heard this quote by William Faulkner until recently – “If a story is in you it has to come out.”

The phrase sums up the reason I’m here, typing this. Writing literally haunts me. Call it compulsive or whatever. I’ve journaled consistently since I was eight years old and writing to me is the equivalent to my coffee or alcohol consumption. I suppose I could live without writing, but it would take a convulsive detoxing process. Just kidding about the alcohol thing (I think). The point is, I can’t help but write. It’s a bit of a curse, really.

read more
Mani O'Brien

Mani O'Brien

Storyteller and Virgo

LA-based social media marketer and brand journalist Mani O’Brien spends her downtime raising a small human and ranting on this blog. Here you’ll find frequent cursing, a self-indulgent analysis of her 30-something existence as a mother, Millennial, digital marketer, almost-wife and astrology-obsessed feminist.

A Letter to my 20-Year-Old Self on my 30th Birthday

Upon turning 30 years old recently, I dusted off a handful of journals that I’d used to document my 20s. Instead of strolling down memory lane as I had intended for this birthday tradition, I quickly tossed the first one aside after a few depressing entries realizing that there’s no reason to relive the heavy, pain-stricken moments that I deemed worthy of documenting that now defined my college-era memories.

I always think of my journals as a sort-of letter to my future self. But on my 30th, I felt it was more fitting to write a letter that I wish I could have received at 20, some guidance and glimmer of hope that my life would be “okay” from my future self. So here it goes.

Hey Self,

It’s you, 10 years from now.

Great shoes, by the way. You are so much cuter than you think.

I’m writing to tell you about some of fabulous things you have to look forward to in life, because you seem pretty burdened by your troubled love affairs, insurmountable insecurity and dysfunctional family situation right now. I’ll admit– you’ve faced a little too much responsibility and emotional turmoil as you’ve struggled through your teen years. And, although college has not been full of the wild, reckless, carefree adventures you were hoping, I promise you’ll make up for the lack of party invites by tenfold in the coming years.

letter-20-year-old-4During the next decade you will manage to …

somehow travel to Mexico, Ireland, Jamaica, Chicago, Vegas, Virginia, New York, Texas, Seattle and Bali despite your lack of financial stability or ability to budget or pre-plan; you will … also

jump out of an airplane,
host an ‘80s themed roller skating birthday party,
break a suitcase while tumbling down an escalator at the airport in a drunken stupor (on a work trip),
total a car,
see your photo and name in print often,
go on road trips and cruises,
start a career and then abandon it,
tattoo your body with a coy fish of ridiculous proportion,
meet celebrities you admire,
ride in an ambulance,
adopt a Shih Tzu,
live in 15 different homes including two high rise apartments and one house with people you’d never met in a frightening vibrant East L.A. neighborhood; you will …

sing karaoke,
miss a few flights,
sleep with a couple of virgins,
fight with a few friends,
dance on few stages,
eat sushi,
drive a convertible,
pet an elephant,
play beer pong and poker, and
take the train to work. You will also…
be experimental with your fashion and hair,
experience a few dating misadventures and
a couple of really good love stories. You will learn how to…
sneak your way into the VIP section of a Vegas nightclub,
talk to strangers,
work a room,
negotiate,
get out of a gym membership (a feat worthy of writing to you about),
close a sale,
bluff,
ask for a raise,
face rejection,
lease an apartment,
get fired gracefully, and
buy a car.

You will come to finally understand
how business, taxes and the government work,
how to stand up for yourself at work and in love,
how to let go of relationships that just aren’t working,
that even if you can’t pay all of your bills, that you should always scrounge up enough to cover your car insurance and your rent, and
that there is absolutely no excuse to miss a court date for minor traffic violations

You will come to terms with the fact that despite the physical evidence, you cannot afford the wardrobe you maintain.

You will help to plan
parties,
fashion shows,
photo shoots,
weddings,
funerals and
a high school reunion.

You will experience the heartache and chaotic aftermath
that follow death,
including the times that follow the loss of
your grandmother,
a friend,
your cousin,
your uncle and
your father.

You will have moments
when you feel as if despair and sorrow
are your only companions,
but the pain of life will compel you
to explore new spiritual philosophies,
and also, therapy.

You will work so hard
and feel underpaid most of the time.
You will be humbled by moments
when all you can afford is a bag of rice
to get you through a week’s worth of dinners,
while reflecting upon the moments
when you dropped $100
on single meals.

Even though you will spend many moments
accompanied by fear,
you will find that the universe tends to provide for and guide you
even in the most hopeless of circumstances.

You will learn that just because a job may promise
a lucrative income,
if it doesn’t make your soul sing,
It’s not worth doing.

letter-20-year-old-2Your desire to explore the world will never leave you
and your decision to move outside of your home state
and comfort zone
will be right choice.

No matter how hard you try,
your career path will always lead you
back to the things that do make your soul sing–
writing and human rights issues.

Finally, (and maybe you should sit down for this one), more than one psychic will tell you that you will be a mother and they are correct. Don’t worry, when this moment comes, you will be ready for it and you will accept the responsibility with an open, joyful heart full of gratitude and awe.

Also, some advice:
Take note that you spend too much time worrying. Some of your most productive work will be directly correlated with the nights that you let loose during  late night happy hours at that one bar.

When it comes to big decisions, trust your instincts.

Try to keep in mind that you really can’t change a person, and it’s not your place to try and help them change. This applies to both friendships and relationships. And also your friends’ relationships. Try not to judge your friend for going back to Mr. or Mrs. Wrong over and over again for they are marching on their own path and experiencing their own life lessons. You are seriously not the authority on healthy dating.

You will enjoy the next 10 years more if you realize now that you spread yourself too thin. By 30, you will realize that if there is any habit you wish you could have changed sooner, it’s your tendency to flake out on plans because you’ve overcommitted yourself on such a regular basis that you cease to enjoy your free time.

Also, beware of the habit that the editors of Self Magazine will cleverly dub the “comparathon” in which you set your imaginary bar for success against the accomplishments of your peers, friends, acquaintances, and friends of acquaintances …(Facebook hasn’t yet been invented, but you’ll understand soon enough). Remember, there is no age at which you should have been, done or accomplished anything at all. Your perceived lack of success is grossly out of proportion with reality, and 10 years from now, you will finally realize how far you’ve come, and how much time and opportunity you actually had. Try to start believing in yourself soon and know that it’s okay to feel unsure about what to do with the “rest of your life” at 23 (ya friggin’ perfectionist).

letter-20-year-old-1

Keep in mind that there are a few things still left to accomplish by the time you turn 30, so don’t feel like you need to cram it all into the next decade. Like (re)investing in a 401k for starters. And, do enjoy those irresponsible, adventurous and, yes, tumultuous moments reserved for one’s 20s. (There is a deadline for which it is socially acceptable to dress like this for Halloween.)

Good luck and enjoy the aforementioned moments rather than the ones you spent time scrawling into the pages of your journal.

With love,

30-Year-Old You

 

Pin It on Pinterest