mono y mono

holy shit it has been a long time. i don't even know how i got out of the groove of writing. i use to want to put everything here in this blog, but then one day i didn't. one day turned into a week and then months got away from me.

it would be totally awesome if i could say that a whole lot has changed in my life. on some levels it has, but on most it is about the same as where i left off.

i'm still working. i still have that awesome CTA story to share. and, i still wish i could sleep in every day.

i've been itching to get back into this blog. it's sort of like a phantom pain...you know the one you get when you have a limb amputated and you have an itch that you can't scratch because your arm isn't even there anymore. or maybe that analogy doesn't make sense at all. either way, i wanted to write again so here i am.

i got some interesting news recently. turns out i had mono and never even knew it. i sort of got pissed off because i couldn't get mono to save my life in high school when i wanted it and then i get it and didn 't even know it. i would totally have milked the mono sympathy train for all it was worth. because everyone knows that if you can milk any kind of train it is a sympathy train.

anyway, i am choosing to believe that i had mono while i was not working which would shed some light on to my marathon sleeping. not that i'm not a little proud of my ability to sleep for 24 hours straight, but it isn't normal. all this time i thought i was super bored and i may have been sick. good thing i never played any contact sports while i was unemployed or my pancreas could have totally ruptured. i dodged a bullet there.

a little bit of nothing and a whole lot of other stuff

Who lost all knowledge of how to juggle a life and work? This girl. I was basically off the grid last week. This work thing is much more time consuming than I remembered. With nine or so hour days and a commute that is over an hour both ways...I am spent when I get home. I look at the clock and cry a little on the inside knowing that I have only about three hours to do shit before I need to go to bed if I want to sleep for 8 hours. And who has slept for 8 hours every night this week? Not this girl. I've been rockin' like 6 or 6.5. Totally unlike me and the cause of my marathon sleep session on Saturday.

I have good news to report though. I am totally digging my job. I know it is temporary and I know that I have only been there a week and a day, but I like it. I tried to enter this work experience with a different attitude and approach than I have ever really taken before...and it is working. I do think I have always been a relatively good employee (see: awesome), but I think this new approach I am taking is making me happier and an even better employee and coworker. So yeah. I like what I am doing. The program is totally awesome and I just know it will make some monumental changes in the lives of others. I'm sad that it is temporary and sort of a band-aid fix for the clients we are working with...but, change doesn't happen overnight and it is often about small victories.

Anyway, in my last post I went on and on about how I didn't do much during work sabbatical. (Yes, I realized it wasn't a sabbatical. It just sounds so much nicer than unemployment.) I feel the need to share the things that I did get to do with my time off that I may not have shared with you...

• Got a library card
• Hung curtains in my room
• Watched the 5th season of Weeds
• Returned to being a brunette after spending four months as a blonde
• Rearranged the furniture in my apartment 3 times
• Finished a photo album I've been working on for at least 3 years
• Learned to fold origami cranes
• Hung pictures on my walls
• Used my sewing machine
• Got a second tattoo
• Sat in the audience for a taping of Oprah
• Watched seasons 1-3 of 30 Rock
• Began painting one nail off
• Went on some bad dates
• Read A Million Little Pieces (and loved it)
• Took a yoga class
• Downloaded a shit ton of music
• Drank a lot of wine
• Visited my dad for over a week...which I haven't done since perhaps middle school
• Ended a friendship
• Went on long walks in the city
• Memorized my library card number
• Hung out with my high school best friend
• Went to a candy convention
• Made almost all my Christmas presents by hand
• Threw up in a cab (it was New Year's Eve...give me that)
• Installed my window air conditioner all by myself
• Met one of my new favorite bloggers for drinks and Mexican food
• Rode on the back of a scooter for the first time
• Realized I don't hate all salad dressings
• Went to Wisconsin
• Helped my mom do flowers for a wedding
• Met Craig Ferguson
• Talked on the phone for hours to my best friend
• Learned who my real friends are
• Bought a plant for my apartment, so I was not the only living thing here
• Ordered spray paint online
• Went to a St. Louis Cardinals game
• Saw Michal Jackson's childhood home
• Got taken care of by my mom
• Made coffee at home
• Started this blog

So, I did a whole bunch of nothing...but, I also did a whole lot of stuff too. I'm not going to lie and say that I wouldn't be happy if I didn't have to set my alarm in the morning, but I am glad to be where I am right now. I don't think I can ask for much more.

P.S. I have an AMAZING CTA story for you, but you will have to wait a few days. A girl can only write so much when she is trying to get adequate sleep.

10 months and four days...

That's right, 10 months and four days ago today I worked my last day at my former job. It was the day that I was laid off and quasi dumped via a Facebook message (I say "quasi dumped" because we weren't even dating and he was way over dramatic).

When I started writing this blog I had grand ideas that it would be some Adventures in Unemployment (a la Adventures in Babysitting); however, unemployment wasn't all I dreamed it would be. I'm not going to lie and say that it wasn't totally bitchin' to never have to wake up or go to sleep at a set time. I won't say that never having to say, "I don't want to go to work tomorrow," wasn't awesome. Visiting my family for over a week, did it. Had friends come in town, check. Okay, it unemployment sort of did rock. However, it sucked too. I lived on hardly anything. I got stuck on an insane sleep schedule. I lost all idea of purpose. I would go days without leaving my apartment. And, I missed almost a whole year. If it were a drink...unemployment would have been half empty with only a little bit of goodness at the bottom. So, the blog didn't really chronicle my adventures in unemployment. I apologize.

But wait, you caught on to the fact that I speak of unemployment in the past tense? That's right bitches...I started a new job today. It fell in my lap and I did little to no work to get it. Before anyone who is unemployed stops following me or gets all pissy because I did very little to break the unemployment trend...take satisfaction in knowing that it is temporary. It is a four month program that I was asked to help start up. It is somewhat impossible to sum up my first day. I was busy, but didn't even have an assigned desk and didn't even know what my actual title was until about noonish. So, we will see.

The good news for you is that I will have some fucking awesome CTA stories to share. I basically travel the length of the red line to get to work. On the way home, while waiting for the train, I was approached by a man who looked about my age. He said, "you got a man at home?" I said, "Yes," which is a lie but who wants to tell a stranger on the train platform, "nope...I'm single. I've been that way for a little while now." I will answer that...no one. Anyway, he then said, "well, it won't hurt if we are friends." I, for some unknown reason, entertained this and said, "no, it won't hurt." He responded, "well, it might a little." I put my iPod ear buds in at that point.

Later bitches. I have to get to be because I have to be at work tomorrow. Weird.

i'm no meteorologist

I once kissed this guy and lost all track of time.

At some point he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He opened them again and slowly turned to face me, looking me right in the eye he said, "wow, when it rains it pours." He shook his head slightly as he said this and gave me a little smile out of one side of his mouth. Then, we both pretended as if he had never said it.

That kiss launched what would be a year and a half relationship. It was a relationship filled with wonderfully good times and some I'd rather forget.

I really liked him and a small part of me might even admit that I loved him. I chose to ignore what he really meant that night in July when he talked to me about raining and pouring. It took a year and a half, but the reality of what he said on that first night was the final nail in the coffin we built for ourselves.

In the end, he was right though. When it rains...it definitely does pour. I thought about him tonight. I thought about what he said because it is pouring in my world right now. But, I am welcoming it.

While can I hear the rain and thunder outside my apartment right now...I'm not talking about the weather and neither was he. We just speak of very different rain.

just a spoon full...

I forgot to mention something really monumental last week. I am going to blame it on the sugar induced coma I have been in for the past few days. Anyway, I attended this:


Think:

It is pretty much a sweets lover's dream come true. Think five football fields full of candy samples. When I walked away at the end of the day, I had a shopping bag full of candy from all over the world. Many of which are new products that have yet to be released. To sum it up, it is pretty much like Trick-or-Treating for adults without the costumes, which equals awesome in my book.

P.S. They even had a tiny bit of booze there too!

why did I not know about this?

did anyone else?

(via)

the apple wasn't so sweet

Remember how I expressed my undying love for Apple just yesterday? Remember how they granted me access to re-download all of the music I've purchased on iTunes over the past three years? Well, I completed the download process....and about 75% of the songs sound like they are being played on a skipping CD. Biggest download fail ever. So, my heart is once again broken in the absence of my music.

I've crafted a nice little letter to my Apple representative and am compiling an excel spreadsheet of all the damaged songs. I am only in the E's and the list has 75 songs. Fingers crossed they come through for me again.

Updates to come.

he stepped out of the shadows...

...and into the hallway. To be fair it may be more appropriate to say he stepped out of the bathroom and into the hallway. That's right, friends. I saw my motherfucking vomiting neighbor. Now, if you haven't been reading my blog since I started writing or you haven't gone back and read the archives (shame on you), you must read this post about my vomit-tastic neighbor.

Now that you have read aforementioned blog post, you understand why this is a big deal. I've lived in this apartment for over a year now. I lived next door to the most vomiting person on the planet and I've never seen him. Not once. Never have we passed in the hallway, taken the elevator together (what, I live on the third floor and take the elevator...deal with it)...we have never seen each other...that is until this morning. I got up to go do some impulse spending at Walgreens and grab a cup of coffee. Upon my return I got to my door and his door swings open. I almost wanted to turn my head to the side so I couldn't see the man behind the...vomit veil....let's run with it and pretend it makes sense. I couldn't resist though. I looked right into his throw up eyes and responded when he said hello. And you can bet your sweet ass it took everything in me not to blurt out, "So, what the fuck is up with all the throwing up? I mean seriously. Not only are you seriously playing with the health of your esophagus and teeth, but I am worried about my plumbing." 80% worried about my plumbing 20% worried about his health. Sorry...I don't know him. I have to say though that I was disappointed. In front of me stood a slightly pudgy Asian dude. Totally dorky. And not at all bulimic looking. He had hair, that needed cutting, pretty much ruling out the chemotherapy theory.

So, I am sort of pissed at him for letting me see him. He has ruined the magic. Now every time he throws up with the violence that I have come to know and expect....I will see he dorky ass vomit face and it will be slightly less funny.

Why vomiter? (Yep, you are downgraded to a lower case letter) Why did you ruin my throw up dreams?

in which i tell you a story about how technology hates me...

Yes, once upon a time there was a girl who tried to live harmoniously with the technology that rules modern day life. She had a computer, a smart phone, an iPod, and....well, okay maybe that is it...but still. This girl loved the technology and how it advanced her life. How could she ever tell time without a cell phone? Or, how could she keep in contact with friends and family without a computer and access to email? She couldn't, right? Unfortunately, the love was not mutual. Technology hated her.


A year ago her motherboard completely fried and she lost everything. The frying of said motherboard may or may not have occurred while she was viewing the personal website of Joey from Real World Hollywood and Celebrity Rehab 3. A mistake I will never make again because I am confident that it caused the crash of my computer. Don't risk it! Anyway, it turns out that the motherboard was recalled so HP fixed my computer for no money. There was a cost though...it cost me all of my data. Big sad face. I tried to get over it. Surprisingly, Apple helped ease the pain by allowing me to redownload the hundreds of songs I had purchased on iTunes that were now lost. Big kiss to Apple. For real.

So, I learned my lesson and purchased an external hard drive. (Full disclosure: purchase of said external hard drive took about a year...so what) All would be right with the world, correct? I could live through another computer catastrophe because all my data was safe and sound on my little black passport. When my computer was infected by a virus, I confidently performed a system restore. All my data was safe, so I didn't care if I had to wipe everything off my computer.

I didn't care until about two or three weeks after restoring my computer when I plugged in my external hard drive and it made a crazy noise and didn't work. That's right boys and girls. DEAD! The asshole Geek Squad man was less then apologetic or understanding and said, "it's a machine. they break." When I said all of my data was on the hard drive he shrugged his shoulders.

That's right. No picture, no music, no nothing. Clean slate. So, one year later I again had to kiss Apple's ass and send them an email begging for the rights to redownload my music. Once again they came to my rescue, which basically makes me heart them. Although, I am thinking I should just switch to a wind-up clock, a bicycle powered television, and a solar powered watch because technology clearly has it out for me.

lost and found

(via)

prick and stick

I'm thinking about this....

I would like opinions and feedback. Have you done it? Did you like it? Did you see changes in your health/well-being? If you haven't done it, would you do it? Please, share away.

pursuit of happiness

"It is not in the pursuit of happiness that we find fulfillment, it is in the happiness of pursuit."

-Denis Waitley

There is a lot of truth to this statement.

Very often, it is the journey that brings us the greatest happiness...

the destination becomes less important.

We find happiness in unexpected people, things, and experiences.

And, I found a strange sense of peace in this video.

I actually can't stop watching it.

Besides the obvious bias I have due to it being filmed in Chicago...

I am just insanely drawn to it.

It looks so freeing.

Enjoy...

Pursuit Of Happiness from Nick Brazinsky on Vimeo.

"For what it’s worth: it’s never too late to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again."

-The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

i've got a crush on you...

(via)

That's right, I'm lookin' at you Chicago.

you didn't get away...i let you go

It's been coming up with increased frequency lately...the one that got a way. This theme of being reminded of my "one" started a few weeks ago over drinks with a friend. Then, I came across a picture of him in the background of some group shot on a friend's Facebook page. And yesterday, I swore I saw him in a little vintage shop. I even doubled back and looked again. It was his twin. Or him. Who knows. I walked away not even knowing totally if it was him or not. I can pretty much promise it wasn't. He doesn't live in Chicago as far as I know. But, it sure looked like him. He has popped up in my dreams and his name appears places. He is haunting me.

It is funny. The idea of "the one that got away." That person is romanticized. You remember only the loveliest of qualities and times. You remember the way they did cute stuff like call you on your way home from work to say they really wanted to make you dinner...if that was okay with you. Or, wink at you across a crowded room to let you know that you might as well be the only two people there. Stuff like when they kissed you it was as if the world didn't exist but in your kiss. How they told you they were proud of you. Or said you were the most favorite friend. You forget about when they dropped off the face of the earth for days at a time. Or how they couldn't say certain words that you needed to hear. You push from memory that they wouldn't come to your family Christmas party. Or that there was a time when you weren't the only one in the room or their heart. You forget all the bad and remember the stuff that makes your heart skip a beat.

But, today as I walked away from that little shop still not knowing if it was him, I thought of something. He wasn't "the one" that got away. I was. Your "one" doesn't get away. They are the one for a reason. They aren't perfect, but they surely don't break your heart in a way that if they ever came back...they wouldn't fit in it anymore.

This isn't a sad realization. It was almost exciting. The whole concept of having one that gets away is a fallacy. No one gets away if they are suppose to be there.

crazy loves to party

At about 11 o'clock this morning, I was riding a nearly empty bus downtown on my way to run some errands. I was settled in to my favorite seat on the bus (yes, I have favorites...don't judge) and was enjoying my Starbucks coffee and the peace of the quiet bus....when the doors opened at the next stop.

In busts a woman who loudly announces, "Let's get this party started!" She continues down the aisle dancing the whole way. She stopped a few times, stepped back, and continued on dancing. "Parrrrrrtyyyyy!" she sang. Awesome right? But wait, it gets more awesome. She chooses the seat directly next to me (despite the fact that there were only about five other riders and a plethora of open seats) and instructs me to dance, "walk it out," and "shake that body." While I appreciated her enthusiasm, I don't think that 11:00am or the 145 is the time or place to "get the party started."

So, sadly, her efforts were in vein. The party never got started; however, there is always tomorrow...or the next bus.

i want to be an olsen twin

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ey, ey

I love my friends. And, I love their stories because they definitely add value to my life.

My best friend has been dating her boyfriend for almost six years now. Wow, I just now realized when I typed it that it had been that long. Anyway, as would happen in a six year relationship they have discussed children once or twice. (And by once or twice I am sure the numbers are up there in the hundreds because come on people...it has been almost six years.) Anyway, besides the normal hesitation about children there has been one hurdle she has felt needed to be overcome before ever seriously going down the baby road. And, it isn't marriage or joint home ownership as you may think. Nope. It is....

Captain. Don't be fooled into thinking that it is alcohol she doesn't want to give up. Truth be told, that will be a hurdle in and of itself. Yet, alcohol is not the problem. No, no, my friends...it is Captain. As in a name. As in Captain Edwards...the name her boyfriend has proclaimed will be that of his first born son. Captain. Captain, of what? Life I guess. Captain. That's right. Like the child's name would be, Captain. A name, I don't even know I would use for a dog. Captain.

Good news though. She recently spent a long weekend with her boyfriend at the beach and the topic of children's names came up. When asked what he wanted to name children one day, he responded, "I don't really know. I haven't given it serious thought." Which was a secret victory for my friend and for their future child.

Looks like Captain went out to sea never to be heard from again. We hope, at least, because I am NOT calling any baby Captain.

in which i buy something to make me smile

(via)

Yep, this little guy found his way into my heart and onto my wall. Love.

P.S. You must immediately go to the artist's page linked above and purchase something. The entire collection is amazing!

i heart nashville

(via)

I am updating my last post with pictures. Have a look.

Back Where I Come From

UPDATED

I write about my love for Chicago often. And, let me tell you...I love this place. I get antsy anywhere I live and I think about leaving. It may be a fight or flight type of thing. I'm not sure. However, I've only ever thought of leaving Chicago for a second. This is because the thought of actually leaving this place makes me more anxious than staying. I want to fight for Chicago, not flee it. It is my home, as if I were a native Chicagoan in a past life.

With this said, I am not from here. Originally, I was born in New Jersey. Don't think Jersey Shores. Or The Sopranos. Nothing like that. It is the Garden State for a reason. I am fiercely loyal to New Jersey and will defend it any day; however, Tennessee holds a place in my heart like no other. I've probably never admitted that before. It's true though. I've spent a combined 13 years in Tennessee...longer than I've ever been in any other state by far. And, while I moved from one border to the other and then back to the center...Tennessee is a home to me just as New Jersey and Chicago are.

And it is what happened in Tennessee this past weekend that breaks my heart. The Nashville area, which is where my mom and two brothers live, was engulfed by flood waters as the city had its highest rainfall totals since records began. People drowned and were washed away. Homes were lost and businesses ruined. Ten to twenty feet of water swallowed up landmarks. The devastation is really inconceivable to me. What is perhaps worse is that it is getting very little attention. It was and still is a catastrophe.

My family was extraordinarily lucky and hardly saw any damage. I am eternally grateful for that fact. With this said, those that were not so lucky are in my heart.

(Pictures via Facebook pages of friends and family and The Tennessean)

Just a few hours later....My mom used to work at a flower shop across the street from this car dealership. It was almost completely swallowed up by the flood. Oh, and as a note...this guy is kayaking on a street that is four lanes wide.

This is the LP Field, where the Tennessee Titans play. It resembles a swimming pool now.

P.S. I definitely listened to Back Where I Come From by Kenny Chesney as I wrote this post despite not being a country music fan. Oh, and then of course I followed it up with Tennessee by Mindy Smith. I cry almost every time.

(via)

in which i write about music...again

I've written multiple times about how I love music. You are probably sick of hearing (or reading) about it. But, I do. I love it. Music had me at hello. We are totally sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-Ging.

My little brother introduced me to this band and this video in particular. I will admit that I wasn't sold the first time I watched it, but I gave it another try. About 100 plays later I am enamored. It is amazing and beautiful and I want it to be my anthem.

'cause there is always a wrong to your right

and there will always be a war somewhere to fight

and god knows i've had some rough fucking years (ooh)

oh lord, oh lord, keep on keeping on

if there was any one thing that could make me smile...it would be this

Just in case you were concerned that I missed this amazing little nugget of news:

PHILADELPHIA — A New Jersey man is facing charges after police say he intentionally vomited on an 11-year-old girl and her father in the stands during a Phillies game…

Police say Clemmens made himself vomit on an off-duty police captain and his daughter after a companion was kicked out for unruly behavior.

I didn't. One word: AMAZING!

putting it back together...

My last entry was March 14th and I went silent. It was a picture of umbrellas in the sky and the title was, "When the sky is falling..." This is all information you know. What you don't know is the story and how I needed an umbrella to keep the sky from falling on me. Simultaneously, the sky caved in on me and the ground crumbled beneath my feet. And, I couldn't do anything about it...I was paralyzed by the magnitude of it.

For those of you who have read what I've written before or who know me personally, it probably comes as no surprise. I struggle at times with some intense anxiety and depression. I would give the world to be able to remove it from my being. To sit in a place of serenity and remove clouds of doubt and unrest. I would love to know what it feels like to have no demons to fight or cross to bare. This isn't something I can do though.

I mask my feelings pretty well a majority of the time. I have it down to an art. I know how to fool even those who are professionals at removing the mask. I say I am fine and will laugh it off. This is not to say that I don't know how to be happy and I don't sincerely laugh and enjoy life. I most certainly do....but, when I wear the mask it is difficult to see beyond.

There was no hiding this though. I was shattered and people were finding out. I lost the energy to wear the mask or to pretend. It became piercingly obvious. The self doubting part of myself wanted to believe that no one would take notice or even if they did they wouldn't act. How could they? Why would they? I don't quite know the answer to those questions. What I do know is that they did. They told me I wasn't okay and had to do something about it. They offered to stay with me. They sat on the phone even when I was silent. And, they picked me up. Both figuratively and literally. Despite all efforts to push it away, I was showered with love. It was an outpouring I could never repay or even begin to express the extent to which I am forever grateful. When I was sinking I didn't just have a life preserver thrown to me, but people jumped in after me.

I can't make a false promise and say I am all better and the sky is hung right back where it is suppose to be. It isn't. I have to be honest. The ground is still unstable. But it is getting better every day. What I am learning to accept is that I can not count on some, but there are others who will go to the ends of the earth for me. And, I just have no words for that...a very rare thing.

I'm a story teller. I talk. I write. I love the experience of sharing. I love details and often get wrapped up in them. When I was a little girl, my parents would hurry me along and say, "get to the point," because my stories were inevitably twice as long as they needed to be. I'm not a "point" kind of girl. To me, it is the process of getting there that makes it worth it...not the actual point. I want to draw it out...experience it. I want to take as long as I can getting to the point.

So, while I considered ending this whole process of sharing and writing publicly...I couldn't stop. I am back. Not to write some sad blog about being sad, but to be honest. Share it all. And, that is what you will find here. Good, bad, ugly, weird...all of it. It will be the continuation to my journey.

I give you my story...there will never be any long story short about it...

when the sky is falling

(via oh brooke)

2010-1981 does not 35 make

Yesterday afternoon I rode the L home and overheard the conversation below. It's probably a little more fun if I set the stage.

I am not a good judge of age. Hell, you could be 15 or 25 in my book. 30 or 52. I don't know. I've never been able to tell how old people were. When I waited tables, I thankfully rested on the "gotta card everyone" policy. I would have accidentally served minors all day long had I not been required to check. I just can't tell.

Flash forward to my L ride. Three girls get on a stop after me. No clue how old they are. I notice them, though, because they are making a hell of a lot of noise. Talking loudly. Laughing. Generally shattering the quietness that existed before their entrance onto the train car. So, I can't help but stare at them. (It's a bad habit.) They look like my age. I guess. But, there are a few things off. I had a strong feeling these girls were definitely NOT my age. Well, the one girl is talking with a really pronounced lisp. I mean, there is nothing wrong with a lisp and I guess adults have them. But, this girls was REALLY pronounced. Her friend, looked normal until you got to her waist. She was wearing a black (faded) cotton knee length skirt with giant flowers on it....OVER jeans. On her feet? Crocs. Not just any Crocs, but ones with those decorations in the little holes. A flower. A heart. And, a teddy bear holding a basket ball. Something was telling me these loud ass girls were not my age. Then, it happened. This...

girl 1: so, wait, when was he born?
girl 2: 88.
girl 3: yeah, and she was born in 90. she just thinks he is too old.
girl 1: that is only like 2 years.
girl 2: i know!
girl 3: so, when were you born? 88?
girl 2: (laughing) NO! 90.
girl 1: oh, i thought you were older then that.
girl 3: me too.
girl 2: (laughing harder) NO!
girl 3: so when was matt born?
girl 2: 81...oh my gosh...i mean 91! oh my gosh!
(laughing uncontrollably)
girl 1: 81! he would be like 35!
girl 3: yeah, he'd have like gray hair!
girl 2: oh my gosh I can't believe I said 81. no! that would be old. he was born in 91.

the girls continue to laugh very uncontrollably and blurt out things like "81!" or "oh my gosh!"

END SCENE

I laughed to myself (very visibly while shaking my head) and looked up to find the girl directly across from me doing the same. She then mouthed "I feel old." I didn't feel old. What I did feel was a strong urge to stand up and say, "Excuse me. First, if Matt was born in 1981 he would be 28. Not 35. And, 28 is NOT OLD!"

I didn't. I just held in the mouth vomit and got off at the next stop. Which was not an attempt to be dramatic, but because it was my stop. It would have been slightly awesome if I threw my scarf around my neck and said, "I've had enough of this," as I exited the train and waited for the next one.

So, moral of the story is: I may be getting better at determining age then I was in the past. It has nothing to do with getting "old." And, these children need to get themselves to a math class. Stat. 2010-1981 does not 35 make!


P.S. In a slightly related story. I took the bus home from the train because it was raining. It was rather crowded so I had to sit next to someone. I would have done anything for a sign like this:

reading

That's right. I'm currently reading this. Don't judge. I checked it out at the library. And, I'm enjoying it.

P.S. The follow-up book, Sweet Little Lies: An L.A. Candy Novel, might just be in my hold queue at the library. By might, I clearly mean totally is.

stroke of genius

About a year and a half ago I watched a video on TED.com where Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor, a neuroanatomist, discussed a stroke that she had in December 1996. She spoke of the two hemispheres of our brains and the different functions they are responsible for. As she shared her story of the morning of her stroke, she discussed how she became acutely conscious of those two functions: the right hemisphere that connects us as beings of the outside world, where we are "at one with all that is;" and the left hemisphere that allows us to recognize our beings as being individual from all else that is in the universe. During her talk she discussed how the left hemisphere of her brain was effected by the stroke, yet tearfully shared the positive experience of losing the ability to separate herself from the universe and live (if only for moments) in a space where she was truly connected to all that is.

At the end of her talk she challenged those in the audience to make choices regarding which hemisphere we allow to guide our lives. She questioned the audience as to what they would choose. She stated, "I believe that the more time we spend choosing to run the deep inner peace circuitry of our right hemispheres, the more peace we will project into the world and the more peaceful our planet will be."

It inspired me. At the time, I was experiencing stress at work and it reminded me again why I chose to be in a helping profession. It reminded me why I chose to go to work each day.

It seems as if eons have passed since that reminder. I'm not exactly sure what path I am supposed to take in life. What I do know is that I hope to be a part of a large change in the world. I want to make great waves and leave my footprint. I want to leave things better when I leave then when I enter a space...this space...any space. While I feel lost on how to make that happen, I am reminded that I need to find a way to figure it out. I need to reconnect.

Here is her talk. I think it can change your life:

I can't even begin to express how much my family and friends mean to me. I would never be able to carry on without their love and support. They lift me up and walk with me when I need it. And, they know even if I don't say the words.

Some of them read this blog. Some of them don't. Some know when I struggle. Some don't. But, all of them are there. All of them love me. Even when I feel unlovable. They fill my heart with love and know just when to hold my hand. I am blessed beyond belief and thankful to the core of my soul.

true that...

outlook not so good...

I apologize in advance. I am going to be Negative Nancy for a second here. I am working on finding a solution, but part of that solution for me is being able to get it out in some form or another. So, bare with me for a moment and I will get back to happy nothing little posts soon.

Have you ever really followed your gut and had it be wrong? I think I am sitting in a place of recognition that my gut lied to me. But really, I'm not even sure it was my gut that lied. Perhaps my gut was telling me what to do the whole time and I just ignored it. I'm not even sure anymore. I'm not sure how to trust myself to know the difference.

I'm usually one of those people that once she makes a decision, stands firm in it. And they are usually really good for me. It's true that I can be indecisive and take time to weigh options, but when I take that leap...when I decide...I'm all in. There is very rarely a moment of turning back wondering if I took a wrong step.

I'm looking back now.

I hate this feeling. I am disappointed in myself. Embarrassed. And I feel broken because of it. I have this desire to have someone swoop in and rescue me or be there for me, but at the same time I am so afraid of hearing "I told you so," that I don't even know how to begin to ask for support. I just want to drown in this feeling because I don't know how to make things right.

one day...

...one of these little guys will find a home in my bedroom. (I think the cheetah is my favorite.)

(via Berkley Illustration!)

a pee in your pants kind of love

Emily from Emphasis Added! posted this on her blog...cutest thing ever!

This may just be the cutest thing I've ever seen. Apparently, this couple has been married for 62 years (he is going to be 90 years old this year) and they are still getting into trouble and having fun with one another. They walked into the Mayo Clinic for a checkup, spotted this piano, and got down to business.

I used to worry about love. I didn't think it really existed. I didn't trust it. And, I lied and said things like, "I don't believe in true love." Or, "I don't really want to get married." The truth is, I desperately want to believe in love. I want to trust love. And, I want to get married. You see, what I was doing by saying those false statements was masking my fear. I'm scared of love in a way. I don't trust it because I know that love can be amazing and powerful, but it can also be hard and painful. Also, as a single woman I feel this pressure to be independent and reject a pining for love. I don't want to be "one of those girls." Whoever they are. Those girls who talk about falling in love and getting married and plan their wedding before a groom even enters their life. I just don't want to be "her." However, I am slowly learning and accepting that it is okay to be both independent and want love. It is okay to say out loud that I want to be loved, that I want to be married, and that it scares me at the same time. It just isn't okay to push it away anymore just because it terrifies me.

I want to be part of that couple that is married for 60+ years getting into trouble and making a scene because of we love being silly together. I want people to think and write about how they want a love like the one I share with my husband. I want to never stop talking and having fun. I want to stay young as I grow older with my partner. I want to play the piano at the Mayo clinic and pee my pants because I am laughing while I do it. (Come on, you know she was peeing a little...it happens.) I want that. I want what they have. Love.

I just need to learn to play the piano first.

i thought i was over it

Apparently this cold I've been fighting all week wants to stay around a little longer. It was not nice for it to take a one day vacation, as it caused me to celebrate no longer being sick. Now, I sort of feel like I was run over by a truck and I can't sleep.

don't tell...

..but I am really procrastinating finishing this writing project I am working on.

if music was renee zellwegger, i'd be jerry maguire because it had me at hello

I've written before about my love of music and I apologize, but you are going to have to read about it again. There is something about it. It makes my blood flow in a different direction, my heart skip a beat, and my soul come alive. I feel a good song stirring in my bones and some times I could just jump out of my skin...I am so in love with a sound.

I have this dream of walking the sidewalk with ear buds in, music playing, and just breaking out into some intuitive dance. Freeing my body of the sound or becoming one with it. Totally trippy, I get this. But, it takes over. I heart it.

Wherein the pigeon gets his 15 minutes...

Hi, my name is Emily and I love pigeons.

I know pigeons are not popular things to like. People like to call them all kinds of nasty names, but I call them beautiful. There is something about them that I am just drawn to. Some of them have the most beautiful coloring with iridescent greens, blues, and purples. And, they just have this "I don't give a shit what you think" kind of attitude. They are weird and awkward and under appreciated. And that kids, that is a recipe for making something I love.

I apparently have a style. Let's just get it out of the way right off the bat that my style isn't "good" or anything. Style doesn't mean you are walking a runway. It just means you have things that inherently make sense for you to wear or surround yourself with. There is some common thread. In my case that thread may be weird and tacky, but I am okay with that.

In actuality, I can't describe my style. I wouldn't know how to tell you what really makes something "me." My friends on the other hand, they have my style down pat. They are always saying, "of course you do" in response to me saying, "I love this!" When I buy something, I often hear, "that is very Emily." I'm not sure what this really means, but I kind of love it. My friend (and sister-in-law) says that she has to make herself stop shopping for me when the holidays roll around because she is most in tune with what would make a good "Emily" present.

Anyway, this was all to say that I love pigeons and it seems to me that I am not alone. Pigeons are taking over the internet recently. Everywhere I look, there they are.

Am I teaching myself how to fold an origami pigeon as we speak? Maybe...just maybe.

Love this! (via Origami Bijou)

Best! Thing! Ever! (via Chinnychinchin) I want it! I want it!

Now, let's be real folks. How can you not love the pigeon when you see how responsibly he rides on public transportation?

could i possibly want these any more?

answer, "No."

(via Elizabeth Soule Photography)