Well, nothing like a 6 month break in between posts, huh? And since I've had my novel-that-will-never-get-written open for a good 20 minutes now and haven't written a word, I figured a blog post was the next best thing. At least I'm writing something. Granted, this something is not furthering my protagonists in their journey, but oh well.
I'm not really sure where this is going to go, since I'm not sure what I want to write. I think the first place I went wrong with my attempt at writing today was putting my new Hanson live DVD on in the background. I honestly thought it would serve as good background music and inspiration. Instead, it is serving as an excellent distraction, as I keep actually WATCHING the DVD to see what is happening on it. Story of my life I suppose. Although it's moment like this one that make me realize that no matter how long I may go without listening to Hanson, I will never be able to let them go. All Taylor has to do is shake that tambourine a few times, and I'm hooked all over again, just like I was in the MMMBop days.
The Hanson thing is interesting too, I think because I've literally grown up with them. Like, Taylor is my age. Granted, he's also married with like 6 kids at this point, and a heck of a lot richer than I will probably ever be (especially if I can't ever finish this damn book I'm supposedly writing), but that feeling of growing up with them I think has something to do with how connected I feel to the band. They are a link between my childhood and my adulthood, and it's almost impossible to listen to them today and NOT think of when I first discovered them, shrieking every time a new video premiered and watching my Tulsa, Tokyo and the Middle of Nowhere VHS tape until I had memorized every single moment of it, and spotted every stray Hanson family member that was lurking in the background. As an adult, my connection to them has obviously mellowed a bit (thank goodness....that kind of obsession takes a lot of work), but I still love their music, and get excited every time something new is released, and struggle with myself every time they come to town as I determine whether seeing them live is worth seeing them at the House of Blues for, and who I can wrangle to go with me (The answer this last October was no...which means next time I probably won't be able to resist).
Perhaps I should move on from Hanson....The holidays just ended. Well, Christmas did at least. It's funny how Christmas has changed as I've gotten older, too. I still love Christmas, and the promise of seeing family that I see less and less now that everyone is older, with busier lives. And it's interesting now that we have two little ones running around to see their reaction to Christmas and presents. It's so weird to be on the flip side of that excitement, because it doesn't feel like all that long ago that I was the little kid in that equation. Growing up is so weird. But Christmas was nice. It was fun, there was plenty of good food, and obviously time with family. Patrick's entire family was at his mom's, which was nice. We even got a white Christmas in the end, although that was far less exciting when it came to driving home in it. It really was one of the best Christmases I can remember in awhile, even though Christmas day ended with Patrick and I on the couch, crying at the Doctor Who Christmas episode (Yeah, we're dorks...so what?).
And now, a new year is upon us. I'm sure last year I wrote something about how my goal was to write every day (even though I knew I wouldn't keep that resolution), and I failed spectacularly, as usual. I have no idea what this new year will bring. It will bring my graduation from grad school, which is both exciting and scary. Beyond that, though, who knows what will lay in store for us. I'm not going to sit here and list a bunch of resolutions that I'll probably fail miserably at following through on anyway. There are plenty of things that I'd like to improve upon or finish. But I've been off work for over a week now, and the only real accomplishment I have achieved is watching the first season of Masters of Sex before it disappeared from my OnDemand. So I should probably set my goals pretty low for now. If all goes REALLY well in 2014, maybe I'll have that book finished.
Which I suppose is what I should (try to) get back to now. Maybe I can get a paragraph or two in before Patrick gets off work, and dinner needs to be made (ha!). I apologize for the rambling, as I'm sure this is all over the place and I shouldn't even post it. But I am, so...yeah.
Happy New Year!
Monday, December 30, 2013
Thursday, July 4, 2013
“I can't control my destiny, I trust my soul, my only goal is just to be. There's only now, there's only here. Give in to love or live in fear. No other path, no other way. No day but today.”
It is with a heavy heart that I begin today's post. A little less than a week ago, I received a voicemail from my friend Erin's dad, saying he had bad news about Erin. She had been sick for awhile--I had visited her in the hospital a couple of weeks before, and she had worsened since my visit--and I knew even before I called her dad back what the news was likely to be. I just didn't want to believe it. I called him back as soon as I got home, and even as he gave me the news that Erin had passed, I felt numb, though my heart broke for the rest of her family.
It wasn't until I hung up the phone, turning around to see the blanket she had crocheted for me years ago when Patrick and I had moved out on our own, that I started crying. That blanket summed Erin up so well. It was such a thoughtful gift, personalized just for me. It was blue, because she knew it was my favorite color, and I know she put hours of love and care into creating it just for us. That's who she was.
Erin had the biggest heart of anyone I know. She was always thinking of others, remembered every birthday and holiday, and was just an incredibly caring, loving person. She won people over everywhere she went. Even when I went to see her at the hospital recently, it was amazing how she had befriended every person who interacted with her at the hospital. She was always able to do that.
It's so unfair to me that she was stolen away from us so soon. She was so creative and smart, and I know she would have done amazing things. It breaks my heart that for all the struggles she went through--always downplaying her pain or the severity of her illness so her friends wouldn't worry too much--she was still taken from us so early. Before she could achieve all of the wonderful things I know she would have.
I've always felt undeserving of her friendship, especially as the years have gone by. My life has gotten busier, and I feel that I don't keep in touch with most of my friends as much as I'd like. I can't tell you how many times Erin and I swore to one another we'd make plans--to see a movie, to grab dinner, to just hang out--that never actually materialized. It always seemed like we'd have time. We'd get to those plans eventually. Now the hourglass has run out, and those plans will never materialize. I can't help but wish I'd been better about sticking to all those missed plans, the movie dates that almost were.
That's not to say we didn't still have great times together over the years. From her putting up with my Hanson obsession to me allowing myself to be dragged to the midnight showing of New Moon, we definitely had fun together over the years.
I remember sleepovers at her house, watching The Craft.
I remember her scaring me to death when we pulled out the Ouija board (Pictures of Hanson on each corner of the board, because they were Christian--the closest thing I had to crucifixes), having me convinced that someone just down her street was being murdered.
I remember watching Coyote Ugly for the first time at her house, while I tried (and failed) to catch her ever-elusive cat. She was, of course, amused as usual.
I remember our obsession with both Gwen Stefani and Gavin Rossdale, and her encouragement of my plan to bleach my hair blonde just like my idol Gwen. Luckily, I never did this, though Erin was probably disappointed.
I remember singing along to the Spice Girls in her backyard, soaking up the summer sun and the freedom that comes with being young and carefree.
I remember all of these things and so many more about Erin. She was such a good person, and I feel like I was a better person when I was around her. She was always willing to give people the benefit of the doubt, even when I was determined to be a judgmental bitch. She could find the good in anyone, and was always willing to give whatever she could of herself to others.
It makes me so angry that I can't say these things to her. That I can't rehash the past with her, laughing over the silly things we've done, sharing our writing with one another, and just sharing life. I wish I had said these things to her when I had the chance, that I could have told her how much she meant to me, and how sorry I am that I probably wasn't always the friend that she deserved. It's not fair. It's just not fair.
Since I can't share these things with her, though, I'm sharing them with you. Even if you didn't know Erin, now you at least know about her. Maybe you have someone in your life that you haven't talked to in awhile, that the craziness of life has prevented you from seeing as much as you'd like. Call them, text them, have lunch with them. Let them know you love them. Because one day it might be too late to say those things.
I know today is a day about celebration, and that this post is not exactly a pick-me-up. But, Erin's life deserved celebration. She was vibrant, and loving, and original, and every time I saw her she had a new hair color---she was a living firework, in the best kind of way. So I guess it seems fitting that I'm writing about her on the 4th of July. Tonight, I'll look up and think of her.
Love and miss you Erin, and I know if you were still around, yours would be the first response to this, because it always was.
It wasn't until I hung up the phone, turning around to see the blanket she had crocheted for me years ago when Patrick and I had moved out on our own, that I started crying. That blanket summed Erin up so well. It was such a thoughtful gift, personalized just for me. It was blue, because she knew it was my favorite color, and I know she put hours of love and care into creating it just for us. That's who she was.
Erin had the biggest heart of anyone I know. She was always thinking of others, remembered every birthday and holiday, and was just an incredibly caring, loving person. She won people over everywhere she went. Even when I went to see her at the hospital recently, it was amazing how she had befriended every person who interacted with her at the hospital. She was always able to do that.
It's so unfair to me that she was stolen away from us so soon. She was so creative and smart, and I know she would have done amazing things. It breaks my heart that for all the struggles she went through--always downplaying her pain or the severity of her illness so her friends wouldn't worry too much--she was still taken from us so early. Before she could achieve all of the wonderful things I know she would have.
I've always felt undeserving of her friendship, especially as the years have gone by. My life has gotten busier, and I feel that I don't keep in touch with most of my friends as much as I'd like. I can't tell you how many times Erin and I swore to one another we'd make plans--to see a movie, to grab dinner, to just hang out--that never actually materialized. It always seemed like we'd have time. We'd get to those plans eventually. Now the hourglass has run out, and those plans will never materialize. I can't help but wish I'd been better about sticking to all those missed plans, the movie dates that almost were.
That's not to say we didn't still have great times together over the years. From her putting up with my Hanson obsession to me allowing myself to be dragged to the midnight showing of New Moon, we definitely had fun together over the years.
I remember sleepovers at her house, watching The Craft.
I remember her scaring me to death when we pulled out the Ouija board (Pictures of Hanson on each corner of the board, because they were Christian--the closest thing I had to crucifixes), having me convinced that someone just down her street was being murdered.
I remember watching Coyote Ugly for the first time at her house, while I tried (and failed) to catch her ever-elusive cat. She was, of course, amused as usual.
I remember our obsession with both Gwen Stefani and Gavin Rossdale, and her encouragement of my plan to bleach my hair blonde just like my idol Gwen. Luckily, I never did this, though Erin was probably disappointed.
I remember singing along to the Spice Girls in her backyard, soaking up the summer sun and the freedom that comes with being young and carefree.
I remember all of these things and so many more about Erin. She was such a good person, and I feel like I was a better person when I was around her. She was always willing to give people the benefit of the doubt, even when I was determined to be a judgmental bitch. She could find the good in anyone, and was always willing to give whatever she could of herself to others.
It makes me so angry that I can't say these things to her. That I can't rehash the past with her, laughing over the silly things we've done, sharing our writing with one another, and just sharing life. I wish I had said these things to her when I had the chance, that I could have told her how much she meant to me, and how sorry I am that I probably wasn't always the friend that she deserved. It's not fair. It's just not fair.
Since I can't share these things with her, though, I'm sharing them with you. Even if you didn't know Erin, now you at least know about her. Maybe you have someone in your life that you haven't talked to in awhile, that the craziness of life has prevented you from seeing as much as you'd like. Call them, text them, have lunch with them. Let them know you love them. Because one day it might be too late to say those things.
I know today is a day about celebration, and that this post is not exactly a pick-me-up. But, Erin's life deserved celebration. She was vibrant, and loving, and original, and every time I saw her she had a new hair color---she was a living firework, in the best kind of way. So I guess it seems fitting that I'm writing about her on the 4th of July. Tonight, I'll look up and think of her.
Love and miss you Erin, and I know if you were still around, yours would be the first response to this, because it always was.
Friday, April 5, 2013
"No Winter Lasts Forever; No Spring Skips Its Turn"
Friends and family who interact with me on a fairly regular basis will probably quickly tell you that, for the last few months, I've been a little stressed out. This semester has demanded more of my time than others, and my ability to balance school, time with family/friends/Patrick, work, and time to just breathe has seemed more difficult. Add winter to the mix, and it's just been a blah few months. However....
Today was one of those seemingly perfect days. I headed to work, the sun was shining, and it was Friday. Turned the radio on and "Some Nights" by fun. was just starting. Stopped at Starbucks before work, even the long line I had to wait in couldn't get me down, and my caramel macchiato was heaven. I learned about a traveling food cart that sells amazing grilled cheese and french fries, and got food there for lunch. Joked around with coworkers, enjoyed the sun, and the music gods continued to smile on me. I was that crazy girl singing to herself in her car, dancing along the music. All day. Nothing could get me down.
And, I guess, there is really no point to that other than to point out that sometimes it's really just the little things that can make all the difference. It's the sun shining, the right song on the radio, and a coffee in hand on a Friday morning. It didn't take much to make my day awesome, just like there are other days when it takes very little to make things take a turn for the worse. Even though, at the start of today, I knew that I had a busy weekend ahead of me, and the homework on my agenda won't do itself, it didn't matter. I was still able to enjoy a day that truly felt like the beginning of Spring, and kept a smile on my face.
It's so easy to embrace the negativity in life. I know, I do it pretty regularly. I let people bother me, can take offense to things fairly easily, and can definitely hold a grudge. And yet, on days like today, I realize how much better life can be in those moments where all of those negative things don't matter. They can be brushed aside in favor of indulging in a solo concert in your car, and a laugh with a coworker in a sunny office on a Friday afternoon.
Anyway, here's to the beginning of Spring, and hoping that all of you have those perfect moments where life just seems right, even when obligations are still snapping at your heels.
Today was one of those seemingly perfect days. I headed to work, the sun was shining, and it was Friday. Turned the radio on and "Some Nights" by fun. was just starting. Stopped at Starbucks before work, even the long line I had to wait in couldn't get me down, and my caramel macchiato was heaven. I learned about a traveling food cart that sells amazing grilled cheese and french fries, and got food there for lunch. Joked around with coworkers, enjoyed the sun, and the music gods continued to smile on me. I was that crazy girl singing to herself in her car, dancing along the music. All day. Nothing could get me down.
And, I guess, there is really no point to that other than to point out that sometimes it's really just the little things that can make all the difference. It's the sun shining, the right song on the radio, and a coffee in hand on a Friday morning. It didn't take much to make my day awesome, just like there are other days when it takes very little to make things take a turn for the worse. Even though, at the start of today, I knew that I had a busy weekend ahead of me, and the homework on my agenda won't do itself, it didn't matter. I was still able to enjoy a day that truly felt like the beginning of Spring, and kept a smile on my face.
It's so easy to embrace the negativity in life. I know, I do it pretty regularly. I let people bother me, can take offense to things fairly easily, and can definitely hold a grudge. And yet, on days like today, I realize how much better life can be in those moments where all of those negative things don't matter. They can be brushed aside in favor of indulging in a solo concert in your car, and a laugh with a coworker in a sunny office on a Friday afternoon.
Anyway, here's to the beginning of Spring, and hoping that all of you have those perfect moments where life just seems right, even when obligations are still snapping at your heels.
Friday, February 8, 2013
If You're Crazy and You Know It...
So, this picture has been floating around the interwebs this week...
and it couldn't have crossed my path at a more perfect time, as this sentiment is one that's been on my mind lately, though I think Amy Poehler puts it more eloquently. And, of course, I am no comedienne. And yet, I can relate. Here I am, facing the last year of my 20s, and I'm not even going to pretend I have it all figured out. I clearly do not. I'm muddling my way through school, trying to clean up financial messes from years ago (will they NEVER go away???), and not sure what my long-term career aspirations are. There are still a lot of things in my life that need some figuring out and fine-tuning. But I know this: I am okay being me, even if that means I look silly sometimes. Don't get me wrong. I'm not immune to what others think of me, and I definitely want them to think well of me. I want to be respected professionally, and I want friends and family to be proud of me, and able to depend on me. At the same time, though, the older I get, the more I've realized it's okay to embrace who I am and the things I love, even if others think it's embarrassing or childish.
I love music. All of it. From Hanson to Blake Shelton to Dawes to Britney Spears to Mumford and Sons to Mariah Carey to the Temptations to Bon Iver...and on, and on and. And I'm not ashamed of any of it. I will never be ashamed of my love of Hanson, no matter how much you make fun of me for it or how to shame me out of it.
I love singing out loud, and dancing along to my favorite songs. In the shower, in the car, at home as I serenade Patrick to "Some Nights" by Fun., it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that I can't sing OR dance, I enjoy it. And you can't make me embarrassed by rolling your eyes as I make a fool of myself. In fact, that will just encourage me to make you join me. Yes, I will pretend I am Britney Spears as I dance along to Just Dance 3. But, you know, before she went crazy.
I love TV and movies, and think watching them is a worthy use of my free time. I love depressing movies. Blue Valentine? Loved it. Own it. Also, anything set in a mental asylum is right up my alley. I've always been drawn to the crazies I guess. I'm seriously starting to think Ryan Murphy just gets me.
I'm proud of my movie collection, despite the fact that it has surely contributed to aforementioned financial troubles. And despite having a better movie collection than cable, I still need cable. Yes, HBO and Shotime are THAT important. I mean, seriously, how can I possibly be expected to live without Game of Thrones or Californication? I can't. And I won't.
I fully embrace my celebrity obsessions, and remain loyal even after the intensity fades. And I do my homework. Need to know Topher Grace or Joseph Gordon-Levitt's back catalogues? Because I can inform you. And probably own most of them. We can have a Katy Perry dance party anytime.
I will never deny myself the pleasure of dessert. Life is too short to skip the cookie, and there are not much better things in life than a bakery tour that includes Sprinkles.
I am okay sitting at home on a Friday night. And a Saturday night. Wanting to stay at home doesn't make me antisocial. Or maybe it does. I'm still okay with it. There aren't many better ways to spend a night than cuddled up on the couch with my husband and my cat and a good movie on TV.
I love Young Adult literature. And that doesn't make me juvenile, or "less than," or dumb. I would be proud to be able to call myself a YA author one day. Anything that puts me in the same category as John Green and Maureen Johnson and Maggie Stiefvater and Sarah Dessen is absolutely okay in my book.
I am fiercely loyal to the ones I love, and if you hurt them, there's a good chance I will never forgive you. I don't have many friends, but the ones I do have I love dearly and hold close to my heart. I don't always see them as often as I'd like, but I'd do anything for them.
I can hold a grudge, and it takes me a lot longer to forget than to forgive. Forgiving can take some time too. I have high expectations for both myself and others.
I can be a little OCD and more than a little germaphobic. I don't think it's weird to wash your hands before touching food, and I'm not entirely comfortable with communal food days. That's okay, more for you.
I love butterflies and giraffes. I don't know why, I just do. I have a giraffe hat, and giraffe Mickey Mouse ears (thanks Steph!), and I love wearing both. I don't care if you think I look silly. Looking silly and not caring gives me power, remember?
I might not know everything about where I want my life to go, or the ways in which I will change along the way. I don't know what the future holds, and I only have a vague notion of what I would like for it to hold. But I do know the above things about myself. And I'm okay with them. I'm not perfect, and you will never hear me claim to be. But I know who I am, and I embrace it, and I can only hope knowing these things about myself will help me get to the places I want to be.
and it couldn't have crossed my path at a more perfect time, as this sentiment is one that's been on my mind lately, though I think Amy Poehler puts it more eloquently. And, of course, I am no comedienne. And yet, I can relate. Here I am, facing the last year of my 20s, and I'm not even going to pretend I have it all figured out. I clearly do not. I'm muddling my way through school, trying to clean up financial messes from years ago (will they NEVER go away???), and not sure what my long-term career aspirations are. There are still a lot of things in my life that need some figuring out and fine-tuning. But I know this: I am okay being me, even if that means I look silly sometimes. Don't get me wrong. I'm not immune to what others think of me, and I definitely want them to think well of me. I want to be respected professionally, and I want friends and family to be proud of me, and able to depend on me. At the same time, though, the older I get, the more I've realized it's okay to embrace who I am and the things I love, even if others think it's embarrassing or childish.
I love music. All of it. From Hanson to Blake Shelton to Dawes to Britney Spears to Mumford and Sons to Mariah Carey to the Temptations to Bon Iver...and on, and on and. And I'm not ashamed of any of it. I will never be ashamed of my love of Hanson, no matter how much you make fun of me for it or how to shame me out of it.
I love singing out loud, and dancing along to my favorite songs. In the shower, in the car, at home as I serenade Patrick to "Some Nights" by Fun., it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that I can't sing OR dance, I enjoy it. And you can't make me embarrassed by rolling your eyes as I make a fool of myself. In fact, that will just encourage me to make you join me. Yes, I will pretend I am Britney Spears as I dance along to Just Dance 3. But, you know, before she went crazy.
I love TV and movies, and think watching them is a worthy use of my free time. I love depressing movies. Blue Valentine? Loved it. Own it. Also, anything set in a mental asylum is right up my alley. I've always been drawn to the crazies I guess. I'm seriously starting to think Ryan Murphy just gets me.
I'm proud of my movie collection, despite the fact that it has surely contributed to aforementioned financial troubles. And despite having a better movie collection than cable, I still need cable. Yes, HBO and Shotime are THAT important. I mean, seriously, how can I possibly be expected to live without Game of Thrones or Californication? I can't. And I won't.
I fully embrace my celebrity obsessions, and remain loyal even after the intensity fades. And I do my homework. Need to know Topher Grace or Joseph Gordon-Levitt's back catalogues? Because I can inform you. And probably own most of them. We can have a Katy Perry dance party anytime.
I will never deny myself the pleasure of dessert. Life is too short to skip the cookie, and there are not much better things in life than a bakery tour that includes Sprinkles.
I am okay sitting at home on a Friday night. And a Saturday night. Wanting to stay at home doesn't make me antisocial. Or maybe it does. I'm still okay with it. There aren't many better ways to spend a night than cuddled up on the couch with my husband and my cat and a good movie on TV.
I love Young Adult literature. And that doesn't make me juvenile, or "less than," or dumb. I would be proud to be able to call myself a YA author one day. Anything that puts me in the same category as John Green and Maureen Johnson and Maggie Stiefvater and Sarah Dessen is absolutely okay in my book.
I am fiercely loyal to the ones I love, and if you hurt them, there's a good chance I will never forgive you. I don't have many friends, but the ones I do have I love dearly and hold close to my heart. I don't always see them as often as I'd like, but I'd do anything for them.
I can hold a grudge, and it takes me a lot longer to forget than to forgive. Forgiving can take some time too. I have high expectations for both myself and others.
I can be a little OCD and more than a little germaphobic. I don't think it's weird to wash your hands before touching food, and I'm not entirely comfortable with communal food days. That's okay, more for you.
I love butterflies and giraffes. I don't know why, I just do. I have a giraffe hat, and giraffe Mickey Mouse ears (thanks Steph!), and I love wearing both. I don't care if you think I look silly. Looking silly and not caring gives me power, remember?
I might not know everything about where I want my life to go, or the ways in which I will change along the way. I don't know what the future holds, and I only have a vague notion of what I would like for it to hold. But I do know the above things about myself. And I'm okay with them. I'm not perfect, and you will never hear me claim to be. But I know who I am, and I embrace it, and I can only hope knowing these things about myself will help me get to the places I want to be.
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